Instead it makes heat flash through me so hard I almost choke on it.
“Look at me.” His voice is commanding. “I want to see you.”
I open my eyes.
His face is inches from mine. Flushed. Gaze dark. Beautiful and a little savage. Over me, inside me, looking at me like I’m the only real thing in his world. It pushes me right to the edge.
“Luca, I’m going to?—”
“Give it to me, Princess.”
He drives deeper, angling his hips so his cock drags against that spot with every stroke.
I shatter. It hits so hard my back arches off the bed and I clench around his cock, tight, pulsing, my whole body seizing while I cry out his name. He swears against my throat, low and broken, and his rhythm falters.
“Jesus Christ.” His hips stutter. “Nat, I can’t— you feel?—”
“Don’t stop.” I pull him closer with my legs, digging my heels into his back.
He buries himself to the hilt and comes with a groan that I feel everywhere, his whole body shuddering against mine, his face pressed into my neck, his cock pulsing inside me.
He stays there for one more beat, breathing hard, then eases out of me and deals with the condom with a muttered curse before pulling me back against him.
The only sounds are our breathing and the faint hum of hotel air conditioning. My hair is probably a disaster. My lipstick isdefinitely gone. There’s a red mark forming on Luca’s shoulder where I bit him, and a shamefully possessive part of me is pleased to see it.
Eventually he shifts his weight off me but stays close, one arm pulling me into his side. I press my cheek against his chest and listen to his heart slow down.
“You’re alive,” he says quietly, like he’s still verifying it for himself.
“I’m alive.”
“Has it been hard? To be back there?”
A laugh almost comes out, but there’s nothing funny in it. “About what I expected.”
His fingers slide under my chin, tipping my face toward him.
The gentleness in his gesture nearly undoes me worse than the sex did. I look at the ceiling because looking at him right now feels like too much.
“He barely notices me,” I say. “That’s the upside. Nobody does. I eat in my room. I read. I keep to myself. I may as well be part of the wallpaper.”
A muscle twitches near his eye.
“It helps,” I add quickly. “He has no reason to think anything’s changed, so he doesn’t look too closely.”
“Have you found anything?”
“No.” The word tastes bitter. “I’ve been trying. Hovering when he takes calls, finding excuses to be in the wrong hallway at the right time. But he’s careful, Luca. He doesn’t talk where anyonecan hear, and when he does, it’s pieces. Nothing solid. Nothing useful.”
I turn onto my side to face him fully.
“His office is still the best shot,” I say. “I just haven’t had the house quiet long enough to risk it. There’s always someone around. Someone coming back sooner than they should.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and I can see him trying not to let the worry show too plainly.
“It’s only been a week,” he says eventually.
It’s meant to reassure me. Maybe himself, too. The problem is, the clock is still ticking and we both know it.
