Lucas was surprised. She was supposed to wait, to let him run the bath in peace, but she couldn’t. Her eyes were misty, zoned out, yet burning with a raw lust that made Lucas’s breath catch. He stood under the shower head , water rushing over him, his body rigid with surprise. “Lucas, you... you want me, right?” she asked, her voice trembling, a plea wrapped in desperation.“Arabella,” he sighed, frowning, his gaze locked on her. She stepped closer, her fingers reaching out to trace the hard planes of his chest, her touch electric, unmistakable in its intent. She wanted him, needed him, and the evidence of his own desire throbbed between them, undeniable and aching.He wanted her too. God, he always did. It was a constant torment, the only thing that consumed him some days was the thoughts of burying himself deep inside her, kissing her senseless, inhaling her scent, hearing her cry his name as pleasure overwhelmed her. But not like this. Not in this frantic, broken way. What’s go
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