Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Valentina
I was barely awake when Luca lifted my leg and pushed his very hard cock inside me. I was wet but not entirely ready, so it took him three thrusts to get all the way inside. “Oh, yes,” he whispered in my ear, his warm chest tight to my back. “This is what I need. Your pussy, strangling my dick.”
He didn’t move, just stayed still, letting me adjust. His hand cupped my breast and strong fingers plucked at my nipple, rolling it. We were in his bed at the mansion, because he’d won the argument about where I would sleep last night.
At the moment I wasn’t regretting that decision in the least.
Ribbons of pleasure unfurled in my belly, my senses overloaded with the way he surrounded me both inside and out. Like how his breath heated my skin, the coarse hair from his chest and legs rubbing against me. I could feel myself growing wetter, my need building, so I arched and wrapped an arm around his neck. “Baby,” I breathed, incapable of saying more.
He groaned and rocked his hips. “Fuck, amore. ”
I knew that word. Love. Italians used it as an endearment, but Luca hadn’t said it to me before. And hearing him utter it in his sexy bedroom voice? I melted like warm butter. “I need you,” I said over my shoulder.
“Get on your knees. I’m going to fuck you hard.”
As if in a daze, I got up on my hands and knees, and he positioned me where he wanted me. Then he was pushing inside again and I moaned loudly into the sheets. The pressure, the heat . . . god, it was so good. He was taking up all the space inside me until there wasn’t room for anything else, no thoughts or worries. No responsibilities. I was focused solely on him and me and the way we fit together.
This was the best stress relief ever created.
He started moving then, hips slamming into me repeatedly as his cock sawed in and out of my channel. It was brutal, punishing, with each thrust rattling my bones . . . and I loved it. “Don’t stop,” I demanded. “Oh god, Luca.”
He drove deep and hit the perfect spot every time. I floated, lost in the rhythm, with each stroke better than the last. All I could do was dig my fingers into the mattress and hold on, muscles tightening as I climbed higher. Were there people who thought older men didn’t have stamina? Jesus . Luca could prove them wrong.
“Reach down,” he said between thrusts. “Play with your clit and come on my cock.”
I balanced on one forearm, then put my fingers between my legs. My flesh was swollen, slick, so sensitive, and I rolled my clit in tight circles. The tips of my fingers brushed his shaft and he grunted. “That’s it. Pull it out of me. I have so much come stored up for you and I’m going to give it to you, every drop.” I brushed his balls this time and the response was instant. His hips stuttered as he shouted, “Fuck! You need to hurry!”
I swirled faster, rubbing my clit, gasping as the pleasure doubled, tripled. I was moaning the whole time, Luca’s dick hammering into me, and then I felt his hand between my ass cheeks, his thumb tracing my rear hole. Tingles rippled through my entire body, a mixture of fear and excitement. Was he going to touch me there? I wasn’t sure if I was going to?—
Without warning, the tip of his thumb slipped inside, breaching the tight ring of muscle, and the orgasm hit me like a wall. Euphoria surged through me. I began trembling, shaking, my voice echoing off the high ceiling in Luca’s bedroom. “Oh my god! Luca, fuck !”
He grabbed a fistful of my hair and tugged, holding on as he ground his hips into me. I could feel his cock thicken as he started to come. “Cazzo madre di dio,” he growled. “So fucking good.”
Then it was over and we both slumped onto the mattress. I was face down, unable to move, while Luca rolled onto his back, chest heaving, an arm over his eyes. I felt wrecked in the very best way, but energized. Like I could start all over again.
After several moments I shifted onto my back. “I’m seriously obsessed with your dick.”
He made a pleased sound in his throat. “Good, because it is seriously obsessed with you.”
I stretched and considered round two. “What time is it?”
“Around nine-thirty, I think.”
Oh, I had time before—wait, no I didn’t. It was opening night. Shit! I had to get moving.
I started to get up and a big hand caught my arm. “Where do you think you are going?”
“I need to get up and shower. I have to get to the trattoria.”
He hummed and yanked me down onto his chest. “You can spare me ten minutes. I want to hold you and think about how much I love to fuck you.”
My restaurant was reopening in a few hours and he wanted to cuddle? “Luca,” I protested, trying to push against him. “I have to go.”
“Ten minutes, amore.”
Goddamn it. That word was my downfall. I had no defenses against it.
I learned during our overnight in the city that Luca was a cuddler— who would’ve guessed?—but we would need to discuss his bossiness. Later, when he wasn’t being so sweet. And comfortable.
I relaxed and closed my eyes, forcing my thoughts away and emptying my mind. He was warm and solid against me, our legs tangled together on the world’s most comfortable sheets. Admittedly, it was nice. Neither one of us spoke. Ten minutes of post-orgasmic bliss passed in silence, as the sounds of the river and chirping birds filtered in through the windows.
This might be heaven.
“Va bene,” he said, kissing the top of my head. “Now, we shower.”
“I’m not sure I can get up.” I was heavy with relaxation, the kind of sluggishness that required binge-watching a show on my couch for a full day.
Luca pinched my right butt cheek. “What of your opening tonight?”
That did it. I forced myself off him and stood up. Luca’s eyes did a quick sweep of my naked body, his gaze hot and possessive. “I have everything set up for you in the adjoining bathroom. Use that one.”
I grabbed his dress shirt off the floor and slipped it over my head. Then I walked over to the nightstand and picked up my phone. “So we aren’t showering together?”
Muscles and tendons shifted as he sat up. “I thought you needed to hurry to the restaurant.”
“I do! I was just wondering why.”
“Get moving, fiore mio, or I’m going to eat your pussy in my shower and make you very, very late.”
Everything inside me squeezed and, for half a second, I considered it. Damn, that sounded nice. But I really did need to get to the restaurant. “Any other day I would take you up on that,” I said on my way out the door.
The second bathroom was as big as Luca’s, decorated in a similar over-the-top style. I used the toilet as the shower heated and then hurried under the spray. The bath products were familiar, the same shampoo, conditioner, and face wash I used at home. There was even a razor like mine. Had Luca peeked inside my bathroom yesterday? Sweet, but strange.
I took as long as I dared, then got out and dried off. Someone must’ve unpacked my suitcase from the trip because my makeup bag was on the counter. I tried not to be too mad. I’m sure Luca was trying to be helpful, but I could unpack my own damn suitcase.
So I didn’t freeze, I slipped Luca’s dress shirt back on, then took out all my beauty products and got busy. After I finished with my makeup, I dried my hair with a fancy hair dryer that was definitely out of my price range. Now I just needed to run home and change into clean clothes.
I found him in a blue dress shirt and navy trousers, buckling his leather belt in his big walk-in closet. “Hey,” I said. “I need to go home to change. Can you drive me or should I order a car?”
His upper lip curled, like the suggestion offended him. “I don’t want you riding in cars with strangers. I will have Aldo drive you whenever I’m busy.”
“Okay, so are you busy?”
“You don’t need to go home. Check the closet in the adjoining bedroom.”
I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. “Did you buy me clothes, too? I told you, I don’t need you buying me things.”
“Just go and look, bella.”
Turning, I marched out of his bedroom and into the adjoining one. He really needed to stop. The handbags yesterday cost a mint. Now he’d bought me clothes? Probably designer shit that I had no business wearing around town. Everyone was going to think I’d lost my mind.
I stopped in my tracks. The huge walk-in closet was filled with . . . my things. My dresses, my pants, my sweaters. Everything. All neatly arranged on hangers and folded on shelves. My shoes were stacked on one wall. He’d, what? Moved me in?
I blinked, sure I was mistaken. He wouldn’t do that. Would he ?
There were drawers, so I opened those, hoping to not find more. Please, god. Let me be wrong.
Nope, there they were—my panties and bras all neatly arranged.
What. The. Fuck.
I usually tried to control my temper. But I came from a long line of loud Italian-American women who took no shit from anyone. And this was absolutely too much.
“Luca!” I shouted. “Get the fuck in here!”
“Problem, bella?” he answered instantly in an even tone.
I whirled and found him casually leaning against the door frame, his hands in his pockets. Had he been standing there this whole time? “Yes, there is a fucking problem!” I waved my arm toward the hangers. “You moved all of my shit here. Are you insane ?”
“Your house isn’t safe. I told you earlier how easy it was for me to break in. Anyone could come in there and hurt you.”
I put my palms together and prayed for patience. “Luca, no one in this town is going to hurt me. I grew up here. I’ve been here my whole life and we have, like, zero crime. But forgetting all that, you can’t just move me in here without at least asking me first!”
“I knew you would say no.” He lifted a shoulder, his demeanor so calm and arrogant that I wanted to throw something at him. “And so I made the decision for you.”
Holy shit. I had been mafiosoed , just like Gia warned me might happen.
My skin grew hot, fury gathering steam in my chest as I glared at him. “I want my stuff moved back. Now. You had no right to this.”
He pushed off from the door frame and strolled toward me. I straightened my spine and braced my feet for a fight. I knew he was going to try to work some mob boss mojo on me, and I wasn’t having it.
Once we were close enough, he placed his hands on either side of my throat and brushed his thumbs over my jaw. “Amore, there are still things in your house. I didn’t move you out and you may go back there anytime. I thought you might like having some of your things here for when you sleep over.”
“Okay. Phew.” I relaxed, feeling foolish for overreacting. “I was worried there for a minute.”
“But,” he continued, more forcefully. “I would prefer it if you stayed here with me. Where I can keep you safe.”
“So you want me to stay here all the time? Or occasionally?”
The edge of his mouth curved, secrets dancing in the depths of his espresso-colored eyes. “Do you want me to answer honestly?”
I shoved him away. “Ugh. Get out of here, you overbearing man. I need to get dressed and I don’t have time for this conversation. We’ll finish it tonight over dinner.”
I expected him to leave, but he walked over to the hangers and began flipping through them. “Wear this,” he said, pulling out a low-cut black dress. I bought it a year ago for one of Maggie’s winery parties.
“Luca, that isn’t a daytime dress appropriate for a restaurant owner. It’s tight and my boobs practically fall out of the neckline.”
“Which is why I want to sit across from you at dinner while you are wearing it.” He took the dress off the hanger and handed it to me. Then, while I was trying to wrap my head around this turn of events, he snatched up a pair of black heels and the new burgundy handbag. “These too.”
I frowned as he handed the accessories to me. “You’re pissing me off.”
“Then it’s too bad you are seriously obsessed with my dick. Because it is attached to me.” He leaned down and kissed me briefly. “You look beautiful in whatever you wear, piccolina. But do this once for me, okay?”
Fuck, he was hard to resist.
“Fine. This one time.” I bit my lip and moved in closer. “But if you’re picking out my clothes, can I pick out your tie?”
“Of course. Get dressed and come back to our bedroom.” He rubbed the pad of his thumb over my lips then walked out .
Our bedroom.
What in the fresh hell?
And why was I smiling as I finished getting ready?