Chapter 32
Luciano
The argument started over Moon Knight . Again.
“You’re missing the point,” I said, arms crossed as I stood by the window, back tense. “You can’t judge him by one issue. You have to read the arc.”
Ava rolled her eyes, lounging on the couch in a tank top and those damn shorts that did something violent to my self-control. Especially after that kiss. I wanted to kiss her again. To touch her. But I didn’t know how to do that without analyzing it first. How do I move closer? Where do I put my hands? What’s the most effective way to express need without sounding needy? What the fuck was I supposed to say?
“You want me to read six volumes of mental breakdown just to understand a man who doesn’t even know who he is?” she interrupted my thoughts.
“Yes,” I snapped, forcing myself to go back to the conversation at hand. “That’s the whole point of identity fragmentation.”
“Why do you care so much about people understanding your favorite trauma hero?”
“Because he’s misunderstood. People look at him and think he’s crazy. He’s not. He’s compartmentalized. That’s different.”
Her eyes softened a little. “Luciano,” she said gently, “I think it’s because you identify with Moon Knight ?”
I didn’t answer. But I did.
She stood slowly, padded over to me. Her fingers reached for the collar of my shirt. I didn’t move.
“I want to try something. Maybe it’ll get you out of your head and I can get a break from the Moon Knight conversation.” Her voice was sultry now, her eyes low.
She grabbed my hand and led me to the couch. I didn’t even know what she was about to do, but I was anticipating it.
Then she dropped to her knees between my legs, like it was the most natural thing in the world. My throat closed.
“Ava…”
“Shhh,” she whispered, her hands already working at my belt. “Let me show you something.”
I could’ve stopped her. I didn’t. I didn’t want to.
My heart was hammering like a gun about to go off as she freed my dick from my pants. I was already hard. She hadn’t even touched me yet.
Her eyes met mine. “Tell me if you want to stop.”
I shook my head. Fast.
She smiled, and then she leaned forward and took me into her mouth—and fuck.
I didn’t know how to breathe any longer. My hips jerked up on instinct, and a moan ripped out of me before I could stop it.
I gripped the edge of the couch. Her mouth was warm, wet, and so much more than I was prepared for. I could feel every flick of her tongue, every pull of suction. It was too much. Not enough.
And I couldn’t stop making noise.
“Ava,” I gasped, “fuck—please…”
She popped off just long enough to ask, “Please what?”
“Don’t stop,” I breathed. “I need… I need more.”
I wasn’t supposed to sound like that. So needy. So wrecked. But she kept going, going deeper. I couldn’t control the way my body responded. I started moving, thrusting violently up into her mouth. She gagged. She didn’t stop me.
I cataloged every sensation, every stutter of pleasure so I could relive it mentally. My muscles twitched. My thighs flexed under me.
I didn’t know I could feel this. My mind blurred. And then—
“Ava,” I choked out. “What are you doing to me…?”
She didn’t answer. Just gave me this wicked grin before she did this thing with her tongue.
My vision went white. My whole body spasmed. I tried to say something, tried to tell her I couldn’t take it, but all that came out was a broken sound that didn’t even feel like it came from me.
I was gone.
Split leaked from the side of her mouth.
God, it was too much. My hands clawed at the couch, and the moment I thought I could hold back, to make it last. I all snapped.
“I’m gonna—fuck, Ava—Ava—”
I came hard.
She slurped and gulped as hot, sticky ropes spurted out of my dick, eliciting a throaty grunt from me. The feeling left me shaking. She swallowed all of it.
And she didn’t pull away. She kept going until I couldn’t take any more, until I whimpered, until I was twitching and clinging to the edge of sanity.
Then she eased her mouth off my shaft, slowly. All my nerve endings were firing when she French kissed the head then swiped her tongue over it—like she was tasting the last drop of something she didn’t want to waste. My eyes rolled at the sensation.
With bright eyes she looked up at me. “You good, baby? Still want me to read Moon Knight ?” she asked.
I couldn’t speak. Could barely see straight. All I could do was shake my head. Suddenly, her understanding Marc Spector didn’t matter so much anymore.
She tucked me back into my pants, stood, and touched my face like I was something fragile. I leaned into it. I couldn’t help it.
I did something I never thought I’d be able to do.
I pulled her into me without asking, with thinking about it. I held her.
I nuzzled into her neck and whispered, “I’ve never felt anything like that before.”
“Oh, wait, it only gets better,” she tittered.