The impact of him inside me knocks the breath from my body, but not the fight. Each thrust grinds me against the door, pain mingling with pleasure as Clayton waits outside, clueless. I dig my nails into Lucas's shoulder, sharp enough to hurt.
"This isn't over, Lucas. Is this supposed to shut me up?"
His response is another thrust, and it makes my toes curl. My body's a traitor—soaked and ready while my mind rages.
"You want an answer?" His voice is a low growl against my throat.
Then everything shifts. He pulls out with a hiss, spins me so fast I almost trip over my feet, and slams me chest-first against the door.
I probably shouldn't admit how hot that is.
His lips burn a path down my neck, his breath hot against my ear. "Listen to me when I say I can't lose you."
