Page 24 of Twisted Trails (Rogue Riders Duet #2)

I nod again, heart hammering. “And then you stop?”

I don’t want this to stop.

His mouth curves into a grin as he kisses the tip of my nose. “No. Then we do something else. Something that you do like.”

Oh.

“Okay,” I whisper again, nodding like an idiot.

He sets the lavender aside, taking a deep, subtle breath as if he’s the one who needs to focus, and then places his hand on my thigh, nudging my legs apart. Instinctively, I close them again.

Luc keeps his hand on me, but doesn’t push as he asks, “Do you trust me?”

I look into his eyes, finding them full of patience, of love. “Yes.”

“Then let me make you feel good . ”

This time, when he pushes again, I go with him, following his direction and letting my legs fall open for him.

He settles between my legs and glides his palms up my thighs, never breaking eye contact.

There’s no rush in his movements as he kisses up my legs, each press of his lips igniting a trail of fire on my skin.

My breath catches, anticipation coiling tight in my belly.

When his mouth meets my pussy, a ragged gasp escapes my lips.

His tongue is soft at first, a gentle tease, a flick, but then he presses deeper, drawing circles around my clit that make my spine arch and my fingers twist into the blanket beneath me.

I moan, not caring how loud it is, not caring if the stars hear me.

Luc hums against me, and the vibration shoots right through me.

“Luc,” I breathe out, my voice cracking.

“Keep saying my name like that,” he murmurs, his lips brushing my skin as he continues watching me. “God, you taste so good.”

He’s relentless, and his tongue and lips work in tandem to unravel me. My hips lift, seeking more, and he responds, gripping my thighs to hold me steady as he brings me closer to the edge.

“Please.” I gasp, not even sure what I’m begging for.

I don’t know how he knows what I need, but he does , like he’s listening to every sound I make and reading it like a map.

He presses his tongue harder against my clit, and my orgasm hits like a wave, pulling me under.

My entire body tenses, thighs trembling around his shoulders.

My hands release the blanket and fly to his hair, gripping and tugging.

His eyes close shut as he groans against my opening.

He doesn’t stop until I’m shaking, overstimulated, and floating. With slow, deliberate movements, Luc lifts his head and wipes his mouth on the inside of my thigh, leaving kisses in his wake. He crawls up over me and kisses me again, and I taste myself on his lips.

God , why is that so hot?

He breaks the kiss and brushes a strand of hair off my forehead. “We can stop here, Petite. We don’t have to do anything else.”

“I want to,” I say, surprising even myself.

“You sure?”

“ Yes .” With trembling fingers, I reach between us and palm him through his shorts. He’s hard, big, and hot, even through the fabric.

“I don’t really know how to…” I trail off.

“That’s okay.” Luc smiles softly and kisses my cheek. “Let me help.”

He eases his shorts and boxers down, and I get my first look at him, thick, flushed, and very real.

I inhale through my nose, eyes going wide. “I don’t know if that’s…”

“It’s fine.” He chuckles, taking my hand. “We’re not doing anything you’re not ready for. We can just play a little . You can touch me. I’ll touch you. No pressure.”

Luc guides my hand, wrapping my fingers around his cock, and I feel the heat of him, the softness of skin over hardness. He exhales through his nose, his eyes slipping shut as he leans into the contact, thrusting in tiny, exploratory movements into my hand.

With his hand over mine, he continues to guide the movement, and the tension melts from his features as his mouth parts in pleasure.

His other hand moves back between my thighs, and even though I’m still sensitive, it still feels way too good. We’re both touching each other now, learning and exploring, our bodies tangled and breaths ragged.

It’s clumsy but so damn hot .

As our lips meet again, I realize I’ve never felt closer to another human in my life.

Luc’s breath hitches every time he moves my hand just right, and my body is buzzing, burning, every nerve alive beneath his fingers.

I never thought I’d feel this kind of connection again, after everything, after what happened, after losing so much.

I didn’t think there’d be room in me for this kind of softness.

But here he is, and here I am.

I’m not afraid.

I want him.

Not because I think I should or because he expects it, but because I trust him, and this feels right.

This is mine to choose.

“Luc…” I pant against his mouth. “I want to try. You said we can stop if it doesn’t feel good, right?”

“Yes, we can stop anytime.” Luc’s hips still move up and down, pushing and pulling back in my grip. “You just say the word, and I’ll stop. I promise.”

I nod, and he presses one finger inside me slowly, groaning when it sinks in fully. The stretch makes me gasp, and his hand goes from the top of mine over his cock to cup my cheek, steadying me.

“Shh,” he soothes, his lips grazing mine as his thumb circles my clit, making me shudder. “I know, bébé, I know.”

Then a second finger joins the first, and I suck in a sharp breath. It burns a little, but it’s also amazing. I shift my hips experimentally, almost copying him. It feels good . Full. And soon enough, I strain for him, for more, and he reads it, slipping in a third finger.

I whimper at the stretch, and he stills, his eyes locked on mine.

“Does it still feel good?” he asks softly.

I nod, my voice catching before I can get the words out. “Yeah, it does. ”

He withdraws slowly and reaches for his bag beside the blanket, rummaging one-handed until he finds a foil packet. He tears it open with his teeth, and a shiver races down my spine when he purses his mouth and blows the torn packet away.

Before he can roll it on, I touch his wrist. “Luc, I can’t get pregnant.”

He stills, eyes meeting mine. “Because of the crash?”

I nod, my throat tight. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to ruin the mood?—”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says easily, but he keeps stroking my clit with his thumb, making it hard to think. “I’m just sorry you had to go through that. Did Greer not use one?”

“No.” My face heats. “He didn’t. I didn’t think…”

“That’s not on you.” Luc kisses the corner of my mouth, then lower, across my jaw.

“But I’m not risking you before I know for sure.

” I’m back to squirming, desperate under his touch.

“We’re getting tested tomorrow, after your appointment, okay?

” he murmurs, nosing at my neck, teeth grazing my skin.

“So I can slide into that perfect little chatte raw as soon as possible.”

The words, the thought, have me convulsing in his arms.

“Luc,” I gasp, breathless.

He grins, pleased with himself, and finally rolls the condom down his cock, hand glistening under the moonlight from where his fingers had been inside me.

“But for now, we’ve got better things to do.” He strokes himself, eyes locked on mine as the thick head of his cock glides through my wetness, teasing me so good.

He taps his cock softly against my clit once, twice, a third time, each one drawing a pulse of pleasure that makes my breath hitch.

“What are you doing?” I question, my heart stammering when he doesn’t make a move to slide inside me .

“I’m knocking,” he says with a cocky grin. “I got told I have to ask first if I can come in. So can I?”

I roll my eyes with a laugh and push at his face. “Idiot.”

“You love it,” he murmurs, and before I can argue or tense up again, he starts to push in slowly, watching me the whole time.

I gasp at the intense stretch, and it’s somehow too much and not enough all at once.

He groans as his head falls back, his eyes closing in ecstasy. “ Putain, you feel like heaven.”

I dig my nails into his arms as he leans down and kisses me again.

His hands frame my face as he sinks into me inch by inch, his forehead pressed to mine, our breaths tangled.

There’s a sting, pressure, a stretch that makes my breath hitch, but it’s not as bad as it was with Finn, and I don’t want to stop when he’s looking at me like I’m his gravity.

“You okay?” he whispers, barely moving.

I nod, clutching his shoulders. “Yeah. Just don’t move for a sec.”

He kisses the tip of my nose. “I’ve got you.”

The stars blink above us like they’re holding their breath as we stay like that, heartbeats syncing, bodies still.

When the ache dulls and I nod again, he pulls back slightly and rolls his hips forward slowly.

It knocks the breath out of me again, and my fingers dig into his back, not from pain but from how right it feels.

He’s so warm, so solid, and every movement feels like he’s asking again and again— are you sure, do you trust me, is this still okay?

Every moan I give him is an answer.

I tug at his hair for another kiss, one that quickly turns hungry and desperate, chasing the rhythm of his body, my hips rising to meet every thrust. The heat coils in my belly again, slower this time.

Luc’s lips trail down my neck, his breath warm against my skin, igniting a trail of goose bumps.

He lingers at the hollow of my throat, his tongue flicking out to taste me before he sucks, creating a blossoming ache that sends shivers through me, and urging me to raise my hips to meet his.

He groans against my neck, and the sound is so utterly Luc that it makes my knees weak.

He moves lower, his mouth finding the curve of my shoulder, nipping and kissing, leaving a trail of heat in his wake. Each kiss, each bite, is a mark, a claim, and I revel in the sensation of being wanted, of being his.

When his mouth finally wraps around my nipple, I cry out at the overwhelming sensation of his wet mouth alongside his continuous thrusting, and I find myself lost in the rhythm of his mouth and his hips. It’s as if he’s memorizing me and branding me with his love.

“Lu-uc.” I’m barely able to catch my breath.

His hand slides between my thighs, fingers finding my clit again, and I surrender completely, letting go of all my fears and insecurities. In this moment, under the stars, wrapped in lavender, there’s only him and me, and the fire between us.

“ Tu es parfaite ,” he breathes into my neck, punctuating his words with thrusts. “You’re perfect, Petite. Mmm. Feels so damn good.”

And right now, beneath him, I feel perfect.

“Look at me.” He pants, one hand cradling my cheek, grounding me even as his hips drive into mine. His thrusts come faster now, deeper, but they’re still careful. “I want to see you when you come around my bite .”

His words hit me low and hot, and my eyes flutter, trying to hold onto him through the blur of pleasure. My hands clutch at him, anywhere I can find skin, while he brushes his mouth over mine, coaxing me back to him.

“S’ il te pla?t, ma Petite ,” he murmurs, his breath fanning across my cheek. “Let me see you.”

I force my eyes open, and the moment I meet his intense blue gaze, it’s like a fuse is lit.

The pleasure crests again, but this time it’s too big, too much, and when it happens, it’s like falling, flying, breathing, and being alive.

My body tightens, legs locking around his waist, and my nails scrape his back as I sob his name.

There’s no other word big enough to hold what I feel.

I arch into him, clinging to him, and Luc follows me over the edge with a low moan, burying his face in my neck as he shudders through it, whispering broken French against my skin.

His body melts into mine, and for a long, breathless minute, there’s only the sound of our hearts slowing in sync.

When he finally moves and pulls out, it’s only to shift slightly, to drape himself half across me, one arm lazily curling around my waist, before his fingers start to sketch soft circles over my stomach.

I’m quiet, still catching my breath and trying to understand how I can feel so full and raw and safe all at once.

He’s the one who breaks the silence. “So, was that good enough to earn me smug bragging rights for, like, ever? ”

“Please.” I try to snort, but it comes out more like a tired exhale.

He lifts his head, eyes softening as they meet mine. “You okay?”

I graze my knuckles over his cheek. “More than okay.”

“Good.” He kisses my temple. “Because I think we just broke the lavender.”

I glance beside me, and sure enough, the blooms are utterly crushed.

“That poor plant didn’t stand a chance. ”

“Neither did I,” he murmurs, brushing hair back from my face.

I never thought I’d want a chance for this. Have a chance for this. For anything beyond revenge and pain, but now that I have it, I want to stay.

And I want more.

Of this.

Of him.

Of life .