Chapter Thirty Eight

“Such thin cotton…” he murmured, his voice rough with suggestion. “I could rip it apart so easily. Have you bared to me, just that easily. I could kiss you…everywhere.”

I put my hand on his, between his fists, keeping my shirt down. “Lucas…don’t….”

“No?” I felt his hands stretch apart, felt the cotton starting to give. “You’re still scared? Don’t you want to feel my lips on your skin? I know you do. You want it. You’re afraid to want it. You’re afraid to give in to me. But you want to, just as much. Have you ever really given yourself to a man before? I don’t think you have. And certainly never to a man like me.”

“A man….” I swallowed hard, fighting for words. He had my brain spiraling, my body shuddering, my blood thundering, my common sense eroding, and my senses humming. “A man like you?”

“Yes, Freya. A man like me.” Another tug of his fists, and I heard a distinct rip. “A man who knows exactly what he wants, and exactly how to get it.”

“And…and what do you want?” I was trying so ha