I Didn't Text Him...Vodka Did Ch. 4

"Roll over onto your back." The whispered command rolled through my consciousness and settled over me like butter over warm bread. I woke in a dream from our past and wriggled next to him, stretching my arms up over my head.

"Leave them there," he ordered in that same sexy whisper. I felt his eyes on me raking their way down from my sleepy eyes and tousled hair to hard nipples and quivering legs.

This was how it had begun for us. After that first shower where he watched me from his spot at the sink. He'd had me dry myself, all the time he'd watched me with this tortured, lustful look that burned every inch of my skin.

Then we'd lain like this, my hands held willingly above my head, Lucas on his side next to me, his head propped up on one hand. He'd taken us to the next level that night, with six charged words

"Run your hand down your arm," he told me. I closed my eyes, the intensity when he watched me was too much to face, this time around. Besides I love listening to him, losing myself in his voice and the feelings he pulls from me.

My right hand slid gracefully down my left arm, a bread crumb trail of goosebumps lingered behind. I felt his warm breath following in its wake and shivered.

"Circle your breast."

Three fingers traced the crease where my breast and chest met. Warm lips descended, capturing my nipple in a searing hot mouth. My gasp echoed in the silent room, and I felt him smile against my supersensitive skin.

When he moved to the other breast, rough words hit my ear. "Touch yourself kitten," he said. "Be a good girl and cum for Daddy."

I couldn't breath for a few seconds but eventually I did what I was told and slowly slid my hand down to my still soaking wet core. I won't ever admit it to him, but this one night he'd finally managed to press all the right buttons.

Don't get me wrong, he's a wonderful lover, but there is something so utterly decadent about him cumming inside me. It did more to push me over the edge than any of the toys we'd played with over the years.

He feasted on my breasts as I frantically played with my clit. In less time than I'd care to admit I shattered into a million pieces beneath him. Lucas laughed.

"That was a little too easy kitten," he said. Moving up he gave me the sweetest kiss and his next instruction. "Turn onto your side."

Obediently, I rolled over welcoming his body against mine. "Bend over," he whispered. Nails raked down my spine and my shivers were punctuated by a happy smile.

I was home.

Lucas wasted no time, sliding his cock between my thighs, rubbing it along my supersensitive clit, pulling the most delicious moan from my lips. It was awkward at first, until he found the right rhythm. Then I was putty in his hands.

There is something about that position, about the way it feels to have him sliding up against the underside of my clit that drives me to madness. I love it. I love him.

When I once again shattered at his will, he pulled back and sheathed himself inside me, groaning at the feeling of my pulsing core around him. Then it was his frantic movements that shook my body, until once again I welcomed that decadent treat he'd denied me for years.

The afterglow between us was bittersweet. Lucas didn't leave right away. When he pulled out, I moved back up and he pulled me into his arms. Lips gently kissed my neck and his arm held me close.

"I missed you. Not this, you, us," he said.

"I missed us too," I said. Tears filled my eyes and I closed them as if that would keep them from falling.

"I love you," he whispered into my hair. "From that first moment I knew we were meant to be together."

"I know," I said.

"And you love me too."

"More than anyone else." I kissed his hand and held him there next to me.

I woke up alone. Well, I woke up alone basking in the warmth of the morning sun seeping through the curtains. The first thing I saw was Lucas sitting in 'his chair'. I can't tell you how many times he'd sat in that corner, watching me, telling me what to do. Just seeing him there made my heart kick up a notch.

It took me a minute to see that the look on his face was not the heat filled gaze from the night before. Yes, it held the same kind of intensity he seemed to have every time he looked at me, only this time it was fueled by anger. Fear gripped my heart in an iron fist.

"Good morning Lucas," I said.

"Get up," he said in reply. "Get up, get dressed." He pointed to the dresser by the door and a lump got stuck in my throat. There was a pile of clothing, leggings and a sweatshirt I must have left behind. Beside it, a duffle bag.

He confirmed my worst fears just then. "I packed up all your things, a cab is coming in fifteen minutes. Be ready."

"Lucas," I whispered. "What's going on?"

"I want you out Allie, out of my apartment, out of my life." Tears burned at my eyes as he stood to leave. "Get up," he said again. "You don't have much time."