Chapter 204: Odds
The fear that one wrong move, one moment where his control slipped even a little, could hurt her or the baby. It was unlikely. Hell, the odds were practically nonexistent. But Lucas didn’t do odds. He dealt in absolutes. And the absolute truth was, if something happened to Ava or their child because of him, he would never forgive himself.
So, yeah. Celibacy was his penance. Torturous, self-imposed, and entirely unsustainable.
Which is probably why her every touch lit him up. She could have blinked in his direction, and he’d be halfway to howling. So when she slid her hand beneath the covers and wrapped around him, he didn’t stand a chance. Especially not this early in the morning, when his defenses were down and his hormones were standing at full salute.
He moaned softly, more of a sigh, really. A breath of confused bliss. It must have been all the invitation she needed because the next thing he knew, she was tugging his shorts out of the way and replacing her hand with her mouth.
His hips jerked up instinctively, a gasp catching in his throat. His eyes flew open, startled, darkened with pleasure and disbelief. "Ava?" he whispered.
She didn’t answer with words, only with action. She bobbed her head with unhurried precision, humming around him in a way that was both sensual and maddening. She looked up through her lashes, mischief sparkling in those eyes like she knew exactly what she was doing to him. Of course she did.
His hand slid into her hair, not to control her, but to ground himself. He applied just enough pressure to guide her gently, to keep her pace steady; not too deep, not too fast. He wasn’t trying to test the gods today. "Ah... baby," he groaned, barely coherent, as he tried and failed to keep it together.
And then she added her fingers to the mix; those devious fingers trailing down to caress his balls like she was tuning an instrument. He swore loudly and threw his head back against the pillow, one hand fisting the sheets. "Shit, Ava...it’s morning...gods, you’re gonna kill me."
She giggled around him, and the vibrations sent his hips jolting again. "Mercy," he groaned, half-laughing, half-pleading. "Have mercy, you evil, perfect, sinful woman."