The billionaire's sweet editor
Chapter 82: Lucas: Pride and wants

Chapter 82: Lucas: Pride and wants

I THINK I finally understand why men fight over their women. If you fall hard enough for her and she gives you everything you’ve ever dreamed of like the proper attention, time, praise, and the best blow job you’ve ever been given in your life, you’re bound to fight for her.

For me that woman is Iris, and this ugly sensation I’m getting because I let loose before she did is probably my pride telling me I let down the woman I love. She’s sprawled on my bed, legs wide open, ready for my next course of action after I told her I was about to get serious.

I meant it.

Gripping her thighs, I gently lower myself onto her folds. I lick the wet skin making her squirm and try to close her legs but I’m holding them in place. Not about to let her disturb me from pleasuring her, I risk getting choked by her legs and let go of one, using my fingers so I can penetrate inside her.

I now know her favorite spots. It would be too shameful not to know after all the times we’ve done it in this room. I even know her favorite positions, and the last time we went at it for hours was when I fuck her in the shower, doing the dominant/submissive trope she had read in a novel and wanted to apply in real life.

Whatever happened to her writer days? We used to have the best sex trying to get her inspired to write a sex scene because we always experimented with new things.

You’re getting distracted, Lucas!

Sticking out my tongue, I slide it between her, running it up and down as I enter her with my fingers. Her fingers tug at my hair and I feel like I’m about to lose my hairline, but for this moment I think I’d rather do.

When her legs start twitching right about my shoulders, I slightly curl my fingers inside her, hitting that same spot that makes her roll her eyes every time I think I hit it. To my relief, the reaction is the same today too.

Iris grips my hair and throws her head back. "Lucas. I’m...I’m coming."

I don’t raise my head to speak. I need her to squirt all over me for this burning sensation in my throat to disappear. In mere seconds just as I’m imagining it, it happens.

Her legs wrap around my neck and she squeezes, the fluid coming out of her at the same moment she quivers all over the bed from pleasure.

Thank Goodness I’m holding her in place.

The moment she relaxes and is back to the present, blinking furiously as the aftermath of her pleasure comes to a halt. I kiss her up to her lips, running my hands along hers until they’re locked on her fingers. Then I pull both hands and pin them under one of mine as she shivers slightly under me expectantly.

"Kinky, Luke."

"Necessary, babe."

"Why?"

Kissing her on the lips I run my hand down her body and give her a saucy wink and a smirk. "Because I want you to writhe in pleasure. I want you to call my name and no one else’s, never again to fuck anyone but me. I want you to think of me every time you get wet, to have myself imprinted in the depths of your mind until you can’t live without me and I want you out of your mind as I fuck you back to reality. I want you, Iris Morris."

"Mhmm, you know how to get me on my knees begging."

"At least this time you won’t have to be on your knees."

"Why?"

I rub my dick on her folds and she lets out a mourn—music to my ears. "Because they’re in the air and I’m holding them in place."

Before she can give me a reply, I enter inside her, feeling the warmth and sleekness of her as I slide in. A groan I’ve been suppressing explodes from my mouth and from then on, I’m the loudest I’ve ever been during sex, crying out loud and moaning as I kiss and pump inside Iris.

"I like it when you make that sound. It makes me want to do my best," Iris says after we switch our position and she’s on top, grinding on me like she was doing at the dance only this time, it’s skin on skin and I’m on the receiving end.

Grabbing her by the hips, I give her the deepest thrust I can manage and she gasps and drops on my chest weakly, grabbing my face as she bites my neck. "You’re the only one who has ever heard it. I’ve always ever suppressed it."

"Why?" She asks in a small voice.

"Because I wanted my girlfriend to be the first person to ever hear it, ever." I flip us and I’m back on top with Iris pulling my head onto hers.

"So I’m the first woman to hear it?" She smirks at me, closing her eyes when I pump deep inside her. God, she feels so amazing.

"Yes. And I hope you’ll be the last."

"Of course, I will be," she bites my bottom lip, pouting when she opens her eyes again. "I love you more than you do me."

"No, I love you more," I retort sliding my hand under her jawline as I adjust my position. For some reason, Iris’ statement felt like a taunt to my abilities as her boyfriend and as a man. "I’ll prove it right now."

Kissing her and sliding my tongue in her mouth for a deeper sensation, I go deep inside her slowly, tweaking inside so I can hit all the necessary corners that please her. She whimpers in my mouth, pushing at my chest as if to tell me to slow down, so I do.

My hair is tugged at and I pull away from her mouth. "Why did you stop, keep doing whatever you were doing, I’m so close."

She almost sounds like she wants to cry, so I’m back at it in an instant, with a bit more skill as I rub her clit with my thumb whilst sucking on her nipples with my mouth.

"Lucas."

As if I can sense her build closing in, I increase my pace. I’m close too. At that moment, there’s nothing but the sound of our skin slapping on each other, the low breaths as we mourn each other’s name out loud with hands intertwined together, the bed shaking to the vibrations of us having sex in a dimly lit room that has a cool breeze easing the sweat from our bodies.

And when we both finish together at the same time, I close my eyes and imagine this moment replaying in a time loop over and over again.

I have a fucking girlfriend now who loves me too deeply she would cry for me, and I love her just as much.

What more can a man ask for?

★★★★★