Page 80 of Lost Love on 6th Street

Luke laughs hard, falling onto his elbows as I pull his briefs off, followed by my panties, leaving us both naked on the floor of my new, unfurnished apartment.

I lick my lips. If I wasn’t so desperate to have him inside, I’d take him into my mouth. Taste the bead of precum that’s appeared on the head, delight in the salty strangeness of his taste.

“Condom in my wallet,” he says, cotton-mouthed, anticipation racking every one of his words.

I reach into his pants pocket, grab the wallet, and fish out the golden package. “You would be a condom-in-the-wallet type of guy.”

“Trust me, it’s been a while since I’ve had to replace it,” he says, holding out his hand for me to give it to him.

I ignore his hand and rip it open myself. “Can I put it on you?”

“Uh, fuck yes.”

I place the condom at the tip of him and roll it down, watching how his face contorts with my merest touch.

“Eleanor . . .” he sighs, head falling back.

I say nothing, straddle his hips, and place the head of him against my opening. My nerves are already perking with pleasure, excited to have him again. Deeper this time.

Luke grabs one of my hips. “Take it slow, okay? I don’t want to . . . too fast.”

I smile at him. Luke Wyatt, ladies’ man, scared to come too fast. Wanting me to go slow. “If you did, I’d be flattered.”

“Eleanor, if I really didn’t give a shit, I would have fucking lost it when you pulled off your dress, that’s the kind of situation we’re dealing with here.”

“Just look at me,” I say.

Luke’s eyes meet mine. And I sink down onto him, just the tip at first because it’s clear that it is a total shock to his senses. His hand tightens on my hip, a curse puffs out of his lips, and his expression is distressed.

Distressed over want of me, is a look I didn’t know I liked on a man until now.

I follow his instruction and go slow, taking him inch by inch. For me too. He’s big and I need to stretch. It doesn’t take long for my body to adjust though, for the discomfort to turn into a numbness beyond which I know is exquisite pleasure.

Once I have enough of him, I start to ride, up and down. Taking my time.

“Fuck, look at you,” he sighs. “Gorgeous.”

I take off my glasses.

“Lean forward for me,” Luke says.

I do so until his hand cups one of my breasts and he brings it to his mouth. I gasp. His tongue strikes against my nipple, and circles it like he did my clit, all the while massaging my breast. My body relaxes more around him. I brace myself against his chest as I ride.

Luke starts to move with me, withdrawing as I do, thrusting while I slide. He groans around my nipple and lets it pop out of his mouth to utter a singular “Goddamn” before moving to the other one.

I move my hands up his body to his shoulders.

We lock into a rhythm, the pace increasing without either of us thinking or deciding. It just happens. Breaths and moans fill the empty apartment, each one cascading into the corners and echoing back at us just how good we feel.

Luke takes his mouth off my breast and grabs me by the back of the neck, dragging me into a kiss. His other hand grips my thigh, and suddenly I’m not in control at all. It’s all him. Fucking me hard and fast, driving up into me.

I drag my lips off his and cry out his name.

“Yeah, baby? You feel good,” he grunts.

“So good, Luke, oh my god, you’re going to make me—”

“Again?!” he asks, breathlessly.

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