Chapter 10 #2
“Pole dancing?” he teased, and she laughed, as heat fired inside of her. She had no experience with men and yet with Luca, things felt strangely intuitive. Natural. Easy. She moved then, standing in the spa and coming to stand between his legs.
“How well you know me.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged, so she lost her balance and tumbled into his lap. “A magician?”
“Definitely.”
He leaned forward and kissed her briefly. Her breath burst through her body. Just a kiss, and yet she felt like she’d been sparked with electricity. “An artist?”
She arched a brow, hoping her ironic expression would hide her racing heart. “I can’t draw to save my life.”
“That makes two of us.”
“That surprises me.”
“Why?”
“You seem like someone who’d be good at anything he tried.”
He let out a bark of laughter. “No one is here, Allegra. There is no need to pretend you actually like me.”
“I don’t dislike you,” she said, swiftly, frowning. “And I presume you don’t dislike me.”
His smile slowly left his face, contemplation in its place. “No, I don’t dislike you. I am…impressed by you.”
“By me?” she squeaked, as he shifted her body, arranging her to straddle him, and thinking became almost impossible.
He nodded once, arms latched at her back, eyes dropping to her breasts. Her nipples peaked against the warm water and just his gaze upon them made sparks fly through her.
“You’re courageous. I like that.”
Her spine felt like it was being infused with iron. His vote of confidence, seeing herself as he did, couldn’t help but make her glow with warmth.
“Why?”
“You faced your grief head on. You sacrificed to care for your father. And now, you’re here, married to me, because it’s the chance for a second start to life. That’s brave, Allegra.”
“Marrying you was a drunken accident,” she said, shrugging. “But I agree, we’ve both made the best of it.”
As if to underscore that, she shifted her hips, pressing down on his arousal and groaning as his hard cock throbbed at her sex. “Luca,” she whispered with urgency, sucking her lower lip between her teeth. “I want this. You. I want this to happen.”
“I know,” he said, darkly, pressing a hand to the back of her head so her head dropped to his, his mouth claiming hers, his tongue a welcome, overpowering invasion of her senses. “But not tonight.”
It took a moment for his words to filter through her sensually addled brain. “What?” She pulled back just far enough to look at him.
“There are other things you need to experience first, cara. Other pleasures you should feel, to make you ready.”
“I am ready. I’m twenty four.”
“That’s immaterial.”
“Luca—you agreed—,”
“And I still agree,” he said, and now, his hands on her hips were strong and confident, as he lifted her easily. She grumbled a complaint, as he stood, and she wanted to cry out with frustration. But he was not leaving the spa.
Instead, he slid his hands into the elastic of her panties and began to slide them down her legs, his eyes slightly mocking as they held hers, as though he perfectly understood how desperately she wanted him.
Shivers ran through her at his touch, the contrast between his hands, the water; she was aware of every little thing, every sensation.
He placed her reverently on the edge of the hot tub, standing now between her legs, eyes hooked to hers, before he dropped his head and took one of her nipples in his mouth, circling it with his tongue then sucking it deep so she arched her back and stared at the inky black sky, pleasure unfurling inside of her even then.
But it was nothing compared to the ecstatic joy she felt as his mouth moved lower and claimed the space between her legs, his tongue flicking her first then moving with purpose and speed, and a perfect pressure, until she was exploding in a way that was new and terrifying.
Terrifying for how all-consuming she found it, for how utterly, absolutely addictive this pleasure felt.
For how, even in that moment, she was cognisant that she might never get enough of this.
Her mind, the next morning, was hazy. She couldn’t remember where she was at first, nor why the bed was moving.
She blinked her eyes open, frowning at the unfamiliar setting, before her gaze landed on the circular window and she remembered Luca’s yacht.
And then, it all came hurtling back to her.
The hot tub, the pleasure he’d inflicted on her with his mouth and his hands, until she was quite spent, and he’d carried her wet body through the boat, to an enormous bathroom, where they’d showered together and he’d once again kissed her until she was losing herself and her mind utterly to this.
He'd towelled her dry, and brought her to a bedroom. He’d left her though, to fall asleep, and she’d presumed he’d slept elsewhere, but a noise alerted her to the fact he was beside her, sitting up, a book in his hand.
Book.
Her mouth went dry.
Hell.
She’d thought he was sexier than sin already. He’d proven that to be true. But somehow, the sight of his sitting up, bare chested, reading, made her whole body catch fire.
“Buongiorno,” he said, closing the book but holding it in his hands, so she could see the cover. Andy Weir. She’d read it already, and loved it.
“Hi.”
She waited for embarrassment, or shyness. After all, the things he’d done to her body last night had certainly been new for her. But there was nothing. Nothing other than a heavy, pleasant sense of contentment.
“Okay?”
She nodded once, propping up on one elbow, using her hand to tuck the sheet around her.
“We’re still on the boat.”
He nodded.
“But we should go back to the house?”
He glanced towards the window, frowning. “It’s certainly expected.”
“You don’t want to.” It wasn’t a question; his feelings were obvious.
He looked down at her. “I can think of a lot of ways I’d rather spend the day.”
Heat flushed her face. “Same.” She felt a hint of guilt for suggesting it. “But isn’t a huge part of this about convincing them you’re happily married.”
He reached out as though he couldn’t not, his finger brushing the bare skin of her shoulder then dropping lower, to the crisp white sheet.
His eyes held hers as he began to tug at it, lowering it to reveal her breasts to his hungry eyes.
“It occurs to me that our absence might convince them of this better than dutifully appearing for breakfast.”
“You know, you’re probably right,” she said, and because he had removed the sheet from her body, she reached out and did the same.
Unfortunately, he was wearing briefs, but she was still rewarded with a glimpse of his powerful legs and all of his chest. So masculine.
So beautiful. She had told him the night before that she was not an artist, but when she looked at him, she felt an overwhelming desire to create.
To draw, to somehow show his beauty to the world.
“You are looking at me as though you want to lick me.”
She laughed softly, even as heat flooded her veins. “You’re not wrong.”
“That settles it, then,” he said, moving quickly, bringing his body over hers.
The sheet separated them, but it didn’t matter.
She felt every inch of his hardness, his planes, his need, and her eyes flew wide.
She didn’t think she’d ever wanted anyone or anything more than she did Luca Di Santis in that moment. “Today, we do not leave the boat.”
“Or ever?” she said with an impish smile.
His eyes narrowed, but he dropped his head towards hers, his eyes sparking with something she didn’t understand. “You’ll be sick of me before the year is out, cara. But for now, let us make the most of this.”