Luca takes my breath away. He’s wearing simple clothes—dark blue jeans, a purple shirt, and scuffed converse. His hair is still a little damp, hanging in waves in his face. He’s not dolled up, not primped to look good for me, and yet, he’s fucking gorgeous.
He smiles up at me, unsure but confident. It’s such a contradiction, it’s almost giving me whiplash. “Hey, Professor.”
“Maddox,” I say as I step aside to let him brush past me. His body slides along mine, the sweet, almost fruity scent of him driving me wild.
Luca takes a few steps inside, looking around at my place. I try to see it through his eyes, hoping he likes the simplicity of it.
My house is a small cottage-style home, with two bedrooms and two baths. I have one of those bay windows with a cushioned seat, the perfect place for sunlight to stream through. I don’t watch much television, so I have a projector I use on the large empty wall across from the sofa if I’m ever in the mood for a movie.
Dark greens and browns make up the decor of my home, understated and calm.
A smile spreads across his face as he turns in a slow circle. “It’s very homey. I imagined…” He waves his hands toward my body and I chuckle.
“Bigger?” I supply.
“Yeah. But this fits you.” He bites his lip, looking at me through his lashes.
“You didn’t bring your study material,” I murmur, stepping closer to him.
Luca’s eyes widen, but for the first time, there’s no trace of fear, no apprehension. Luca looks at me like I’m hope, a guarantee that he’ll get exactly what he wants, exactly what he needs.
“I uh…” He stuffs his hands in his back pockets, that sweet blush racing down the front of his throat. “I forgot, Professor.”
I stalk over to him, and Luca’s mouth drops open as he pants and walks backward.
His back against the wall, I press my body to his. “What do you think I should do about that?”
Now Idosee fear in his eyes and his bottom lip trembles before he darts his tongue out to wet it. “Umm…” Wetness clouds his eyes and I step back, giving him room.
“Luca?”
“I’m sorry. Wait.Wait.Teacher.”
I take one more step back so he has space to breathe. He lowers his head, pulling in a steadying breath. “I’m sorry, Luca. I didn’t mean?—”
“I just need a second. It’s not you,” he says, shaking his head quickly. “It’s not. I promise.” He looks at me, eyes dry and clear now. “I’m just… new to all this.”
Nodding, I hold my hand out, and Luca takes it gratefully. “I need to know your limits, Luca. I don’t mind you safe-wording—I welcome it when you’re uncomfortable and want any play to stop. But if I know your limits, you won’t have to use it.”
“I’m sorry.”
We sit on the couch and I ask, “Do you want to run?”
“No,” he says earnestly, though he peeks at the door. “I told you I don’t know what I’m doing. If it’s too much…”
“It’s not. Like I said, I want you to use your safe word when you’re uncomfortable. But I need you to tell me what you like and what you don’t like so I don’t cross any lines. I’m not here to push your boundaries until they snap. I want to make you feelgood while skirting those lines. So before we go any further, let’s talk about that.”
“Okay.” His hands twist in his lap, his eyes reflecting that shyness I’m so used to.
“What we’re doing.” I motion between us. “What we plan to do, it requires trust, even if it won’t go past anything physical. I need you to trust me with your body, your pleasure, your safety, and I need to trust that you’ll tell me when you don’t like something we do.”
He nods, chewing his lip roughly. I drag it from between his teeth and he gives me a grateful smile.
“So, tell me, Luca. What are some of your hard limits?”
His eyes take on a haunted quality that makes my chest ache. What happened to him? “I don’t like being backed into a corner or crowded. It’s just… I don’t like it.”
“Okay, I won’t do that. What else?”
