Page 49 of August Lane

“I’ve always liked them,” August said, running her hand down the front of her cotton minidress.

The marigold empire waist showed more cleavage than usual, which had felt appropriate for a night at Delta Blue.

Now as Luke’s eyes raked over her, she was more aware of how much skin it exposed.

“I didn’t wear them in high school because—”

“Boys are idiots?” He dimmed the lamp, still watching her. “And you in a dress made them dumber than they were on a good day?”

She fidgeted, rubbed her neck, and shoved hair off her shoulder. Luke made a low sound in the back of his throat. “This is gonna be harder than I thought.”

“What is?”

“Being patient. Waiting to have you.”

“You don’t have to wait,” she said quickly. He could grab her, pin her to the wall. Thinking about it lit her skin on fire.

“Uh-uh,” he said, with a half grin that tried to yank her heart out. “Not tonight. You asked to learn something, so come here and let me teach you.”

She sat on the edge of the bed and was surprised when he didn’t join her.

Instead, he knelt on the floor. He was tall enough that it brought them face to face.

“I really like your dresses,” he said, fingering her skirt.

She watched, mesmerized, as he stroked it with reverence, as if it were an extension of her skin.

“So soft. Like you.” He met her eyes. “But not fragile.”

She thought of his earlier offer to make it hurt.

The good kind that scrambled your senses.

“Not fragile,” she said, answering the implied question.

He was big all over. Strong. But their encounter last week had showed her the delicious potential of his contradictions.

Luke would be cautious with his strength.

He’d never leave a bruise if he held her in place.

He hooked his hand behind her knees and pulled until her thighs were at his waist. She lifted her hips so she could feel him, but he stayed out of reach.

He ran his palms slowly up and down her thighs, pushing her dress up a little higher each time until her legs were bare.

“Where’d you get this skin?” he asked, but it wasn’t a real question.

It was bearing witness. He hunched low and pressed kisses against her thighs.

His beard grazed her, prickly through her thin underwear, and she wanted more.

She wanted to grab his neck and put his mouth on her, but instead she fisted the fitted sheet.

It popped free from the mattress. Luke kissed her knee, then straightened to look at her. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Call me that again and I’m pinning you to the ground.”

He laughed, deep and rumbling. She leaned forward and kissed his neck and felt the vibrations dancing on her tongue. Luke’s voice had always worked magic inside her. Laughing. Singing. It cast her favorite spell.

He untied the straps around her neck. The dress collapsed, revealing her strapless bra.

He nudged the fabric farther down until it bunched at her waist, then leaned back and hissed “Jesus” in a way that sounded more like a prayer than a curse.

She looked down at herself, trying to see her body through his eyes.

The bra was sheer lace but lined with industrial-strength under wire to hold her breasts in place.

She hated how difficult it was to find pretty, delicate lingerie in her size. “I can take it off.”

“Don’t touch it.” He traced the wire at the top, the shallow indention it made on her skin. “You’re fucking beautiful,” he muttered. “Do you even see it?”

She tried to, but all she could see was how her flesh puckered and rolled in places it never used to. It made her self-conscious. Luke must have noticed because his lips thinned, and he sat beside her on the bed. He pointed to the dresser mirror and said, “Look.”

August was startled by her reflection. Arousal made her skin luminous in the lamplight. The sheer bra was lurid next to the guileless cheer of her yellow dress.

Luke moved behind her, one hand splayed over her stomach. He pulled her hair back and kissed her shoulder, mimicking her gentle nips and licks from earlier. The cool air pumping through the vents made her shiver. Luke noticed and rubbed her arms until the gooseflesh disappeared.

“Why are you so sweet?” she muttered, then leaned back to kiss him. “So good.”

“Is that right?” He put his hand between her legs, inside her panties, and strummed a rhythm that had to be a direct path to damnation. “Is that good, too?”

August moaned and let her head fall back against his chest. “ Yes. But it’s not—” He stole her sentence with a gentle tug that made her gasp, then soothed her with more gentle stroking. “ Yes. More of that.”

Luke took her at her word. Soon she was splayed over his lap, sweating and squirming while he fingered her, his other hand exploring her breasts. But he wouldn’t let her come. She pleaded, begged for relief. “Not yet” was all he’d say each time he brought her to the brink.

Eventually he nudged her back onto the mattress and finished removing her clothes.

He took his time, caressing and kissing each part he exposed.

Then his mouth was between her legs and there was no way she could stop what came next.

She couldn’t revel in the hot sweep of his tongue, or the greedy sounds he made, like he’d found ambrosia.

He was too good at this. Or she was too easy.

Either way, Luke’s mouth was her undoing, and she yelled in frustration, bucking against his chin as she came in record time.

“Do you feel it now?” He yanked his shirt over his head. His body was covered with tattoos that extended down his sides and stomach. “How much I love you?” He kissed her before she could answer. Their tongues twined and danced while he yanked at his jeans. “Do you feel it?”

She shoved his pants over his hips, and his hands trembled as he ripped open a condom.

She loved seeing him so out of control, that she’d made him that way.

August took it from him and rolled it on, cupping and stroking him once she was done.

He took a hard breath, his back bowing as if the pleasure hurt.

Like she’d broken him in all the right places.

He pushed inside her, and the slow stretch was torture, the friction bliss. Luke braced himself on his hands to watch her, rolling his hips in a measured, teasing grind. “Am I still good?”

“No. You’re fucking evil.”

He laughed, then hitched her knee up to his hip, and gave her exactly what she wanted: steady, deep strokes that pinned her to the mattress. She grabbed his neck and propped herself up to whisper in his ear. “Yes, I feel it. I knew you’d feel like this.”

He thrust faster, harder, reached between them to stroke her clit.

She came without warning, a sudden pressure that burst into waves.

Luke chased his release with rapid, shallow thrusts and watching him catch it was breathtaking.

He groaned and shuddered, gasped her name like it was fire in his mouth, then collapsed on the bed.

They lay together in silence, limbs entangled, until their breathing returned to a normal rhythm.

August lifted her head to look at him. His face was slack and sated, his eyes heavy slits. She wanted to keep this more than anything, more than the concert, the money, her name in lights. She rubbed his chin, sliding her fingers through his beard, and whispered, “Thank you for coming back to me.”

“I had to.” He took her hand and kissed her fingertips. “You’re my home.”