His kisses are long and sensual. His tongue traces my lips, and I can feel him between my thighs, hard and ready, but he doesn’t rush. Not like last time. Now, he takes his time, unraveling me piece by piece until I’m teetering on the edge of release—the edge where pride disappears and the only thing I want is to feel him inside me.
His hands know my body like a map he’s memorized, a sea he’s sailed a thousand times.
And I’m waiting—eager—for his command. As always.
“Did you miss me?” he whispers against the center of me. My legs are open, my most vulnerable parts exposed to his gaze.
He’s not really asking me.
Luca dives in—no warning, no prelude. His tongue drags from bottom to top like it’s meant to heal every wound, and my hands claw the sheets, desperate to ground myself.
“Oh, God,” I moan, my body rippling with each lick, each flick of his tongue.
“The only god here is me, Em,” he murmurs against me, his voice vibrating through my core. “Mine’s the name you’ll scream.”
“Then I guess I don’t have to say what I want, do I?” I ask, glancing down. His shoulders look massive, holding me open, and a wicked grin breaks across his face.
He plunges his tongue back into me, this time adding a slow, deliberate finger. The pressure builds until I feel like I’m floating.
“Luca!” I cry out, writhing under his touch. “Right there… don’t stop.”
His eyes are shut, and the moan he lets out is the most erotic sound I’ve ever heard.
Pure. Animal. Lust.
The fever builds. My body erupts in pleasure, and when the wave finally crashes, he rises from between my legs with pride gleaming in his eyes.
He sucks the finger he just had inside me and groans.
“Still so damn sweet… Come here.” He grabs my ankle and pulls me to him. To his center.
A violent crack of thunder splits the sky, so loud the windows shiver in their frames, but all I hear is the storm inside us. Lightning streaks across his face as he trails a hand up my stomach, studying it like a sacred discovery before kissing every inch of my skin—my belly, my breasts, my throat.
His cock teases at my entrance, but doesn’t push in. Not yet. He’s playing with me, testing my control.
Until I wrap my legs around his waist and dig my heels into his back, I remember how much that drove him wild.
“You’re wicked,” he growls against my neck. “I forgot how much you love teasing me.”
I smile just as he thrusts inside me—and I scream.
His hand grips my ass, the other steady on the bed beside my head. His eyes bore into mine, and every slow, torturous stroke feels like a love letter.
My chest swells with emotion. Some I understand. Some I’m terrified to name. The last time I opened that door, he bolted. I can’t go through that again.
“Don’t go,” he whispers.
“What?”
“Your mind’s spinning. Stay here with me. Be in this moment.” His mouth finds mine, kissing me breathless as his rhythm quickens.
I wrap myself around him, arms, legs, soul. There’s no space between us. Not anymore. It’s like time rewound and picked up where it left off.
"Shit..." he grunts, burying his face in my neck, sucking on my earlobe.
My head tips back. The second he does that; I shatter all over again.
"Give it to me, Em," he demands, his voice rough and already half-lost to the pleasure.
