The Perfect Stroke (Lucas Brothers #1)(143)

“Ana, you need to go.”

“I came here to dance,” she says, kicking off her shoes. I watch her and I’m at war with myself, knowing I need to send her away, but wanting one last taste of her. And why shouldn’t I? She owes me. I’m still who I am. I can take this and send her away. She wants to play the whore? Why shouldn’t I let her? Surely that’s the only reason I don’t stop her when she peels those jeans down over her hips, revealing the peach-colored flesh I want to bite into. They slide further down her legs and she gracefully kicks them off.

Fuck it. Let her dance. I sit in a cushioned chair, waiting and hoping like hell I manage to look bored because I’m anything but.

“I’ve missed you Roman,” she whispers, lifting her shirt over her head.

“If you want to dance, Ana, then dance. But I don’t need the commentary,” I warn her, my voice cold.

I can’t hear her say words that shouldn’t mean a damn thing to me. It shouldn’t matter in the least that she misses me. I don’t miss the fire in her eyes at my words. I’m pissing her off. Good. She should be pissed off. She should feel anger, because it’s all that I’ve felt since that day in the cemetery. Nothing has made it better. Even learning that she told the court that she planted all of the shit on me under orders of a superior officer did nothing to soothe my anger. I wanted to choke her. I wanted to scream and kill her. I wanted to f*ck her. No matter the anger and hate inside of me, it always boiled down to that. I wanted to sink into her tight little cunt and f*ck her so hard and raw that she’d never walk right again.

I still want that. As she stands in front of me in her silk underthings now, I want it so much my damn cock is salivating in need. Until Ana, I was all about control. Now I have none. Not a f*cking drop of it.

She walks towards me, her hips swaying in tune to some imaginary music. Black silk. She’s wearing black silk underwear and it never looked so f*cking good. She bypasses the pole and I mourn it. I’d love to see her grinding up against it, spinning around, opening her legs…

All thoughts of it stop, however, when she stands in front of me. She puts her hands on my shoulders and leans down so her breasts are in front of my face. It might be my imagination, but they look larger than I remember, so f*cking ripe and big that I could push my cock into their depths and wrap them tight around my shaft and f*ck myself with them. I resist… barely.

Her finger nails drag down my chest, stopping at my tie, and she quickly undoes it with just a few easy moves. I’d be impressed if my eyes weren’t glued to the way her hips are moving as if she’s sliding back and forth on my cock. She leans down and, as she unbuttons my shirt, her tongue licks a path down my chest. My hands bite into the armrest of the chair I’m in to keep from touching her. It’s a wonder I don’t break off the damn thing.

“I thought you didn’t do private dances,” I grumble, my voice hoarse.

Ana stops and looks at me, her eyes full of desire. Against my will, my hand goes to my cock, which is rock hard, and I grab it, squeezing it tight to try and hold the f*cker back from coming in my damn pants. Not again. Not…

All thought stops when Ana unhooks her bra and throws it to the floor. Next, she slides down the barely-there scrap of lace that had covered her *. The lips of that juicy cunt are plump and covered in her desire, slick and wet to the eye, and I breathe in the scent of her arousal. What man could resist that? Especially when they know firsthand how f*cking good it is.

“I’ll let you in on a secret, Roman,” she says, sinking to her knees between my legs. I don’t stop her when she starts undoing my belt. If anything, I widen my legs. She wants f*cked? I can f*ck her. Doesn’t mean I won’t send her on her way when it’s done.

“What’s that?” I ask, closing my eyes as she lowers the zipper and snakes her hand inside to wrap it around my dick.

“I didn’t come here to dance for you,” she whispers before sliding my cock in her mouth and devouring it.

Against my will, my hand tangles in her hair as I watch inch by inch of my shaft disappear in that sweet haven. She doesn’t stop, sliding down on my dick and letting it stretch her mouth. She takes me all the way to the back of her throat, only stopping when her nose is pushed up against the small nest of curls on my body. I feel the small puffs of air hit my skin as she breathes. She starts to pull off my dick, and I selfishly tighten my hold on her hair, not letting her, needing to savor this moment. Finally, I’m the one who pulls her off of my dick. My fingers so tangled in her hair, I know it’s hurting her, but she doesn’t fight. I drag her face up to mine, admiring the way her lips shine with a combination of her saliva and my pre-cum. They’re puffy from the rough way I moved her head on my dick. Beautiful.

“You want f*cked, Ana? I’ll f*ck you. It’s not going to change anything,” I warn her, or maybe myself. “You need a dick, I’ll give it to you.” I growl again before taking her mouth with my own.





I take Roman’s kiss, and it’s a punishing kiss. It’s a kiss full of anger, betrayal, and desire. I take it, even as his words wound me. His tongue pushes into my mouth, hard and unforgiving. I let him conquer my mouth, drinking in his taste. If all I get is this one night, then I’m going to take it and hopefully live on it the rest of my life.

When we break apart, we’re both breathing hard. He holds me prisoner by the way he has my hair. He roughly turns me so my back is to him, lifting me up on his lap so I’m forced to straddle his legs. His grip on my hair lets go, but only to be replaced by an equally punishing grip on my hip as he holds me suspended in the air.