Chapter 4 #2
Luca's gaze darkens, shadows swirling in his eyes.
His arm snakes around my waist, and before I realize what's happening, he pulls me close.
His mouth crashes into mine, leaving me breathless and brainless.
The kiss is short but tempestuous, furious, demanding.
His tongue invades my mouth, and I do everything in my power to resist—but only for a second.
I melt into him.
My defenses are utterly shattered.
My senses unravel.
Time itself dilates under the pressure growing in my core.
But Luca lets go abruptly. I almost lose my footing on the path.
I look up at him in sheer disbelief. His breath is ragged, his lips glistening from having just ravaged mine.
A fire burns in my womb, a desire I never imagined I would ever feel for this man.
It's wrapped in layers of shock and anger, though.
"How dare you?" I breathe.
"It's the only way to get my point across, apparently," Luca declares, straightening his jacket. "The wedding is happening this Sunday. Take a couple of days with that catalogue, Valentina. You'll want to look your best."
He walks away, leaving me flustered and hot and bothered in the warm sunlight. Befuddled and ashamed by my own reaction to his body, to his touch, to his lips. By the gods, all it took was one kiss.
The next morning, I'm pining.
Restless, I toss and turn for a while, unable to get that kiss out of my head.
I haven't seen Luca since, but it hasn't stopped him from invading my every thought with the grace of a bull in a china shop.
When Susie comes in to take Michael downstairs for breakfast, so I can have a few moments to myself, I thank her and drag myself into the shower.
"Who the hell does he think he is?" I mutter as I let the hot water run down my body. The stream relaxes my muscles as I lather myself with lavender soap. The rinse is almost cathartic, until I let my hands move up and down.
Touching.
Stirring.
Imagining his mouth working its way down the side of my neck. In a moment of intimate madness, I allow myself to slide into this fantasy.
I squeeze my breasts as rolls of steam rise everywhere around me, causing condensation to form on the shower cabin's glass walls.
I pinch my nipples between my thumb and index, wishing to feel his lips wrap around them.
To feel the suckling sensation and a thousand thunderbolts thrumming through my core.
Leaning against the white marble wall, I feel it cold against my back.
My fingers make their way downward, and I find my clit swollen, my folds slick. My body yearns for the kind of release I haven't experienced in a long time. This will have to do, so I let my fingers work me closer to the edge.
I open my eyes, gasping as a subtle cool breeze touches my neck.
Luca stands in the open doorway, watching. He has a full view of what I'm doing, too.
For a moment, I freeze, trying to understand what's happening.
He doesn't move. The charcoal suit wraps around his athletic form with precision and elegance. The marine-blue tie stands out, and the gold-plated pin captures a sliver of light as he moves toward me.
"What are you doing?" I ask, breathless at this point.
"Watching," Luca says simply.
"This is private…"
I can't even move. I'm naked and wet in every possible way, and Luca is dangerously close. I try to breathe, to form a coherent thought, but nothing works. My body fights me every step of the way, already moving against my will.
"Not anymore," Luca replies, his voice a low growl.
Darkness dwells in his eyes, but desire burns through them. My hand reaches for the faucet, and I turn the water off. Luca grabs one of the towels and holds it out for me. Instinctively, I cover my breasts with my hands.
"Don't," he says. "Come here."
Dammit, Valentina. Why are you so weak?
I take a step forward and let him wrap me in the plush towel. His hands roam freely, and I can feel his fingers through the thick fabric as he pats me dry. I can't look away from him and his slightly parted lips. The towel drops.
"Luca."
My fantasy becomes a dangerous reality as he grabs the back of the neck and firmly positions his lips against mine. When he kisses me, fireworks explode in my chest. His other hand wanders, briefly over my breasts, to shamelessly flick my nipple before it moves down.
I gasp when his fingers delve and explore my sizzling wetness, my folds opening like a blossoming rose—his to do with as he pleases.
"Oh, fuck," I whisper.
"Fuck, indeed. What were you thinking about?"
He circles my clit, and all I can do is hold on, my fingers digging into his shoulders as he pushes me closer to the edge of a cliff. I'm about to fall, to explode and dissolve into a billion little pieces, unable to look away from him.
"Tell me, Valentina."
I have no choice but to obey, as he slips two fingers inside me and presses the ball of his hand against my tender clit.
"Ah!" I moan, my hips swaying back and forth to match the fastening rhythm of his relentless, merciless finger-fucking. "You. I was thinking of you."
"Good," he says and kisses me.
I welcome the taste of him, I welcome his playful tongue and his all-consuming hunger, his arm jolting as he brings me to the brink of self-destruction.
I come hard and gushing, his fingers curling with every retreat.
I quiver in delight, groaning and melting as he squeezes every drop of this soul shattering orgasm out of me.
I listen to his ragged breath for a while, my head resting on his chest.
"You're a constant surprise," Luca whispers in my ear.
"This was wrong…"
My senses are returning. My reason tells me I shouldn't be doing this, but when he withdraws his fingers, I feel empty on the inside.
Longing for so much more. He retrieves the towel and gently wraps me in it.
His thumb brushes over my nipple, briefly before he covers it, then plants one last kiss on my forehead.
The devastating gesture designed to end me. To fill me with something I never wanted to experience. Safety in the arms of the man who upended my life.
"Pick a dress by tonight, Valentina, or I'll pick one for you," Luca says.
A moment later, I watch him walk out of my room with the confidence of a king.
Anger and shame drown me as he closes the door behind him.
Tears prick my eyes, but I don't let them flow.
I blink them back, struggling to recover my breath, to return to my senses as I untangle everything that just happened.
All he had to do was touch me…
And I was done for.