Consumed (3 page)

“I can’t get enough of you, Sienna, and I sure as fuck don’t want to try to stop,” he says when we finally break apart. He tugs my bottom lip with his teeth before releasing it and making a low noise in the back of his throat. “You taste like sin—the best kind imaginable.”

This isn’t the first time Lucas has told me this, but it doesn’t make it any less sexy. Now, there’s a raw desperation in his voice. It just makes me want him even more. “I need you.” I point my gaze to the top of the staircase behind us, and then back to him. “Now.”

 “We should eat,” he whispers against the column of my throat, as his hand squeezes between my legs. “There’s food in the fridge.” His fingers glide under the hem of my shorts. “There’s—fuck, you’re wet.”

Shaking my head, I respond in a deep voice that doesn’t sound at all like me, “No food—not now, okay? Just you. Just me.” 

This does the trick. His eyes sweep over me a few times, and then he nods. “Upstairs.”

Our mouths are still connected, tasting and exploring and reluctant to break apart as we make it up the stairs. When we reach the top, I shove him against the wall. He leans his head back, gazing at me incredulously as I push the bottom of his shirt up.

“Patience is a good thing,” he drawls. 

But he’s already dragging the dark cotton over his head, revealing a chest and abs that come from years of strict gym dedication. I touch him—trace my fingertip around the outline of the dagger-filled heart tattoo in the center of his chest.

“This is coming from the guy who couldn’t wait until he got back to Los Angeles?” I scrape my fingernail along the last dagger. Before I reach the hilt, he grabs my finger, sliding it into his mouth, skimming his straight teeth along my skin. 

“Never claimed I had shit for patience, Red.” He leads me down the hallway into the master bedroom. Like the rest of the house, this room is incredibly similar to his bedroom back in Los Angeles—decorated in a startlingly erotic contrast of red and black.

He supports his shoulder against the doorway and trains his gaze on me. “Get naked,” he commands. He’s grinning—a hungry look that makes me grind my teeth. “And that thing with your teeth drives me fucking insane.”

Quickly, I unbutton my shorts and shimmy them down around my hips. When they fall to the floor around my feet, his chest visibly constricts. “Do you know how many times I’ve thought about you, Sienna?”

I pause, waiting for him to give me an answer, but he motions for me to continue undressing. As I drag my white tank top over my head, I hear his footsteps drawing closer. “Do you know how often I’ve woke up needing you?” He kneels down in front of me and presses his mouth to the cotton “V” of my panties.

“No,” I whisper.

His warm breath fans my skin when he continues. “Every single day since you left.” He skims his hand beneath the pink fabric of my underwear and lets out a low, animalistic growl when I tremble at his touch. “So no, I’m not letting you go this time, Sienna. There’s not even a chance.”

I nod, unable to speak. Because by the way his hands are holding on to me as if I’d disappear if he so much as let me go, I know there’s nothing in hell that will keep Lucas Wolfe away from me.

Not even Samantha.

My hands clench by my sides as he drags my panties down my hips. No, I refuse to think about his crazy ex, at least for now. There will be plenty of time for him to give me answers about her later.

Right now is for him and me.

Running my tongue across my dry lips, I find my voice and ask teasingly, “What? You going to tie me to your bed to keep me with you?”

Lucas finishes pulling the pink lace down my legs before lifting his eyes to mine. They’re full of lust and need. “Later?” he asks, and I nod. He gestures for me to step out of the panties, and I comply. “Fuck yes, I’ll tie you up later.”

Though I didn’t believe it possible, even more heat pools in the pit of my stomach. “God, Lucas—” I start, but he drags me down onto the floor with him, causing me to gasp. “What are you doing?” I struggle to get up, but he places one of his hands firmly over my belly button to still me.

“Relax.” He eases my knees apart with his body. “I’m going to taste you, Sienna.”

Even though I’m expecting it, I still jerk against him and grasp at his hair the moment his tongue darts across my clit.

His fingers replace his mouth, spreading my slick folds as he glances up at me with a warning expression on his face. “Do that again, and I’ll tie you to that bed.” He jerks his head in the direction of the four-poster bed several feet away, in the center of the black and red bedroom that’s completely out of place in this house and yet so Lucas. 

My thoughts instantly go back to several months ago, to the infamous red guitar pick he’d flicked across my breasts whenever I gritted my teeth, and I lay back, balling my fists into tight balls.

Lucas dips his head and kisses a hot trail from my stomach to my inner thigh and then back up again, stopping only once to touch his mouth to my center. “I’ll never get enough of the way you taste,” he whispers against my flesh. 

“Lucas—” I want to respond, but it’s cut off by a hoarse gasp that slips through my lips when he circles his tongue around my clit roughly. 

“Make that noise again,” he says. When I do, he splays his hands on the insides of my thighs, digging his fingertips into my soft skin. “I want everything from you.”

Everything.

There’s a part of me that wants to give him everything he asks for without asking a single question, but there’s an alarm blaring in the back of my head.

“What’ll you give me back?” I dig my fingernails into my palms a little deeper. A little harder. I tremble violently as he slowly glides two of his long fingers into my body. “Everything?”

“Always,” he says, and I feel my heart beat even more erratically. “Whatever you want.” Then he lowers his mouth back to my clit, tasting and touching until I cry out and my back arches up. Whenever I grind my teeth, he stops, pulling away for several seconds, drawing his fingers completely away from my body, until I manage to control myself. 

It’s torture—both pleasure and pain.

“I want you,” I finally say.

“You’re going to have to do better than that.”

“Fuck me, Lucas.” 

His hazel eyes stare up my body wickedly, and he shakes his head. “Not yet.”

“Why?”

“Come first,” he orders, and when I try to protest, he reaches up my body and covers my lips with one hand and my breast with the other as his tongue picks up speed. I can taste myself on his fingers, and my own hands wander up to his shoulders. I scratch into his flesh instead of my own this time, digging my nails into his skin. I’m hardly aware I’ve tangled my fingertips into his hair again until his hands leaves my mouth and breast to clamp around my wrists. He doesn’t release them until I come, until I’m writhing and moaning beneath his mouth. Even then, I’m still saying his name over and over again.

Slowly, he slides his body up mine. He doesn’t stop until we're heart to heart and eye-to-eye, and he’s grinning. “Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask once I catch my breath. I run my fingers along his jawline, and he grabs my hand, bringing my palm to his lips.

“Because, I want to be inside of you. Right now.”

About damn time. 

“Yes.”

He sits up on his knees before he pulls the blindfold away from my neck. Dangling it on the tip of his finger for a moment, he glances between it and me as if he’s trying to decide what he wants to do. Finally, he takes my hand in his and begins wrapping the fabric carefully around my wrist. “And because I plan to tie you to the bed before I fuck you.”

“Okay,” I agree hoarsely. 

“Why did you make me leave?” I ask Lucas a little over an hour later. He’s several inches away from me on the oversized bed, the back of his finger stroking my right palm in wide, circular motions. It feels good, right. 

“Because even I fuck up.”

Tugging the soft black sheets over my breasts, I turn my head so that I can look at him. It’s dark in here, but I can easily make out his frown thanks to the sliver of light coming from beneath the bathroom door. “So what exactly happened?”

“Does it matter now?”

I sink my teeth into my lip to stop my snippy response. How the hell can he even ask me if it matters? One moment we were making plans that would turn our temporary arrangement into something permanent once we returned to Los Angeles together, and the next he was telling me I needed to leave. 

“Oh yeah, it matters,” I say.

“Because I froze. I was—”

When his words catch, I ask, “Afraid?” He doesn’t confirm or deny, so I continue, “Of Samantha?”

He immediately corrects me. “Of what she might do to you.” As if to drive his point home, he twists a thick red strand of my hair between his fingers before pressing his lips to it. “There was no fucking way I was going to let her screw with you to get to me.” 

I start to sit up, but the crimson-colored blindfold is still binding my left wrist to the bed. Lucas uses this opportunity to slide closer to me, tugging the sheet back down to my waist. He glides his tongue around my belly button.

I won’t let him do this to take my mind off of Atlanta.

“You should have given me an option. You should have given me a—” I shiver and dig my toes into the sheets as he presses his fingertips against the sensitive part of my hip. “God, don’t do that right now.”

This time he uses his mouth, keeping his eyes on mine the entire time. I sigh. “The point is, I’m a big girl, Lucas,” I say.

“Sam is a crazy one, though.”

“What does she have on you?”

Lucas smiles, probably to make me feel better about the situation, but his smile isn’t reflected in his eyes. “Nothing.”

Nothing my ass. When he came to me last night right after I finished watching the “Ten Days” music video premiere, I was sure he was ready to tell me what Sam was holding over his head. 

And now this? 

“Don’t treat me like an idiot.”

“I’m not. Sienna, you need to understand—”

“Will you understand if I decide to go my own way?” I clear my throat. “If, after I finish the two days that I owe you here, I go back to Nashville?”

Sitting up abruptly, he looks down at me, his hazel eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. For a lengthy, awkward moment, he doesn’t say anything else, and all there is between us is the sound of angry breathing. 

At last he snaps, “Don’t do that shit. It’s what she would do. I love you, and I’ll do everything I can to keep you, but I don’t need you doing what she’s done to me already.”

I suck in a deep breath through my nose. Squeezing my eyes closed to stop the burning at the corners, I exhale through parted lips. I will absolutely not cry because that won’t get anything accomplished.

“I’m sorry,” I say. Because I don’t want to make demands or be anything like his ex, and I feel wretched that he even made the connection. I’ve only met Samantha once, at a birthday party for Cilla, the lead singer of Wicked Lambs, but I learned all I ever wanted to know about Lucas’s ex-wife during that brief encounter. 

At the same time, I want to know the truth about why she had so much control over him. I need honesty just as much as I need Lucas. 

He traces the oval-shaped outline of my face, studying every freckle and laugh-line, every long black eyelash and every twitch of my lips. Finally, he reaches across my body to unravel the fabric from my wrist. Once my hand is free, he lowers his lips to mine, running his tongue over the center of my lips until I part them and give him complete control of my mouth. 

My body reacts to his almost immediately, and I drape my arms around his neck, desperate for some part of him to hold on to.

Screw him for making me feel this way. 

When he draws away, his expression is pained. “Let me deal with Sam, with my past. I promise I’m going to keep her away from you. All you need to do is just let me love you.”

God, if only it were that easy.

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” I clench his shoulders more tightly, pushing my fingers against the center of a black and gray five-point star tattoo on the ride side. It matches the stars on his wrists. “You said it yourself that she’ll try to ruin us if we’re together.” 

The cocky look that takes over Lucas’s face is heartbreakingly familiar, but I can’t help wondering if it’s not all an act now. If he’s not just as worried about Sam. “I said she’d try, Red. I won’t let a goddamn thing touch you.” 

Why does he have to sound so confident all the time?

I’m still worried, but I murmur, “Okay.”

“Good.” 

He plops back down on his side of bed, grasping my hips and pulling me on top of him in the process. I dig my knees into his side, which only prompts him to smack my ass. I gasp at the sharp sting, and of course, he grins. 

“Sienna?”

“Mmmhmm?” I trace along the intricate tattoos on his forearms, following the path my fingers make with my gaze. “What is it?”

“I want everything from you.” 

 “You told me that already,” I tease as his hand tangles into the hair at the nape of my neck. Warmth spreads through my body, from my scalp to between my legs, and I move my hips.