I wasn’t used to this. Men rarely offered, and for years, it had been my job to give pleasure, not receive it. And Luca was the last man I’d expected to give it, especially without my asking.
His mouth finally landed on my heat, and instead of starting gentle and slow, he rushed me with the carnal hunger of a wild animal. His tongue danced with my clit the same way his tongue danced with mine when we kissed. There was no restraint or hesitancy when he took me, like he wanted this for himself, not for me.
I hissed between clenched teeth and moaned like a cry. I dug my fingers into his hair. My body arched and my hips rolled. There was so much energy packed into my small body that couldn’t be contained. I moaned and panted, feeling so much pleasure that I simply couldn’t take it.
And he continued like he didn’t care if it was too much. He ate me alive, tugged on my clit with his teeth, drowned me in so much stimulation.
I lasted a minute or so before I released like an overheated engine about to combust. My head rolled back, and I looked at his high ceiling and the detailed crown moldings with the chandelier in the center, swept away by the riptide of pleasure that nearly cut me in two. “Jesus, Luca…” This man always made me come hard, but that was different. Completely one-sided. Completely in my favor. Generous.
His bottoms were gone, and then he climbed on top of me, tugging my legs and hips until I was in place.
I should be the one climbing on top of him and bouncing on his dick, but I was still paralyzed by the rush that had left my fingers and toes numb. Languid, I let him bend me how he wanted me,and then he shoved his hard thickness inside me and infiltrated me with no preamble. But I was soaked from his kiss, and the arousal he generated inside me would coat my channel once he started to thrust.
He grabbed me by the neck and squeezed, his thumb pressed hard into the surface. At full speed like at the start of a sprint, he pounded deep into me like this was the first time he’d had me, like he was erasing the existence of every man who came before. He’d dismissed me from his home and his life, but now, he was the one who fucked me like he owned me.
He was so hard inside me. His eyes were wild and aggressive, like the darkest midnight. He fucked me like a whore, and because I was more than that, it was actually meaningful. He made me feel wanted. More wanted than the men who’d paid top dollar for me to stay in their bed for the night.
This moment was entirely for him because he pumped until he came, giving me a load that he’d fully earned. His hand squeezed my throat as he finished, and his thumb moved to the corner of my mouth and pressed into the skin, slipping between my lips until he felt my tongue. His own mouth had a shine from where he’d kissed me before. His hard eyes lost their edge as the high slowly faded, as the blood retreated from his plump muscles. He pulled away and let my stiff joints loosen from the way he’d bent me.
Then without a word, he walked into the bathroom and started the shower.
I lay there and let the sweat evaporate from my skin before I crawled up on the bed and pulled the covers over me. I’d intended to get up and use the restroom and wash my face, butonce I was in the nicest bed I’d ever slept in, I felt myself drift away.
I woke up sometime later when he came to bed and pulled back the sheets. My tired eyes opened to see him put his phone on the nightstand. The screen was aglow and I saw that it was two in the morning, so he’d been awake awhile before he came to bed.
It was the first time I’d slept over, the first time I would see him from night until morning, and that made me shift to his side of the bed and cuddle into his side. I felt the heat of his body when I got close. Felt his chest rise from the breaths he took. My cheek found his hard shoulder, and I rested my hand on his arm.
He didn’t move away from me.
The second I closed my eyes, I was gone.
23
ALIÉNOR
When I woke up the next morning, he wasn’t there.
The primary suite was devoid of his commanding presence. His phone wasn’t there either, so I decided to text him.Everything okay?I wasn’t sure if he had to take care of work or some other urgent matter.
His answer was instant.Gym. There were no more dots.
I assumed he had his own facility in the building, and the idea of watching him lift heavy weights and doing whatever else he did to look like that was extremely intriguing. I threw something on and went in search of this gym. I asked Andre where I could find it and then quietly let myself inside.
It was a gym made for hundreds of people to use, and one of the walls had a floor-to-ceiling mirror. That was exactly where Luca stood, holding a bar stacked with weights, shirtless in just running shorts and workout shoes. He had headphones that hooked over his ears, and he stared at himself as he curled his arms over and over, muscles straining and veins popping with every rep.
He didn’t seem to notice me, so I took a seat on one of the workout machines and just watched. Tried to figure out how much weight was stacked on the bar, but it was too hard to count.
He racked the bar on a chest press and did that next, pushing this heavy mass above his body over and over without a spotter. He did five sets of ten, grunting every time he pushed up, sweat all over his skin.
I wished I had a bowl of popcorn.
He finished that then sat up, taking a second to catch his breath before he reached for a container that appeared to be a protein shake. He took a big drink of that before he capped the lid and then worked on his shoulders and his deltoids, doing exercises that targeted specific muscles.
I couldn’t think of a better way to spend my morning.
For a cooldown, he went to a treadmill and seemed to run for a couple of miles.
What kind of fucking cooldown was that?
