Chapter 25
25
CELIA
D ante kissed me awake in the middle of the night. “I’m going to relieve Luca. I didn’t want you to wake up alone.”
I smiled and kissed him back. I felt him roll out of the bed, the way the bed sprang up from his muscular frame. To my surprise, I fell back into a deep, sweet sleep.
When I woke, the sky was growing bright beyond the dusty curtains. I got up, dressed in an old hoodie I’d found in a closet, and went downstairs.
The kitchen was filled with soft morning light, casting a warm glow on the marble countertops and the antique cabinets.
I started to search through the kitchen, looking through ancient supplies for something we could use.
Luca came in then, green eyes intense as always. He paused, leaning in the doorway. Was he waiting for permission? There was always something a little challenging in his gaze. He was always pushing.
Dante was comforting. Luca was not. But I felt like I needed them both.
“Good morning,” I said uncertainly.
“No guns this morning? You’re not going to threaten me?” he asked, with his usual unoffendable air of mischief.
“Not if you think you can make it through the day without punishing me for some imagined sin.”
He scoffed. “I don’t want them to be imagined sins, Celia. I want to sin with you.”
His eyes locked onto mine, a smoldering intensity that felt like a physical caress, as he crossed the kitchen to me. I could see the flecks of gold in his green irises, tiny embers burning just for me. He leaned in, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through my core. “Did you have a good time with my brother last night?”
All I could do was stare at his mouth, wanting to feel it on mine more than I wanted my next breath.
“Yes, I did.” I reached out, tracing the line of his jaw, feeling the stubble prickle against my fingertips.
He leaned into my touch, his eyes never leaving mine. “You should have a good time with me.”
As he leaned in to kiss me, I could taste the hint of peppermint on his lips, a remnant of the gum he’d been chewing earlier. His hands found their way to my hips, pulling me closer, and the hard muscles of his chest pressed against my body. He deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring my mouth, and a wave of desire surged through me.
His mouth moved to my neck, his lips and tongue tracing a path that made me gasp. I clutched at his shoulders, my head falling back as he kissed the hollow of my throat. He was strong, his muscles taut under my hands, and I wanted more. I wanted all of him.
I could feel his fingers tracing the edge of my hoodie, slowly pulling it up, exposing my thighs. I leaned back against the kitchen island, my breath hitching as his hands moved higher, his thumbs hooking into the sides of my panties.
He looked up at me, his green eyes dark with desire, seeking permission. I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest, and he slid my panties down, his fingers brushing against my skin, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me. He lifted me onto the cool marble of the island, then spread my legs gently.
He leaned in, his breath hot on my inner thigh. I shivered in anticipation as his fingers traced the edge of my panties. Then, with a slow deliberation that made me ache, he slid them aside. His tongue touched me, a light flick that sent a jolt of pleasure through me.
I gripped the edge of the island, my knuckles white as he explored me with his mouth, his tongue delving, stroking, circling.
He slid a finger inside me, then another, moving in rhythm with his tongue. I was lost in sensation, in the feel of his mouth on my body.
The rhythm of his fingers and tongue was intoxicating, pushing me closer and closer to the edge. The marble was cool beneath me, a stark contrast to the heat of his mouth. His stubble grazed my thighs.
His green eyes flicked up to meet mine, filled with a hunger that mirrored my own. The sight of him between my legs, the feel of his mouth on me, was almost too much to bear. A moan escaped my lips, a low, guttural sound that seemed to urge him on.
His fingers curled inside me, hitting a spot that made my back arch and my breath come in ragged gasps. His tongue moved faster, applying just the right amount of pressure. I was close, so close. My body tensed, my muscles coiling like a spring ready to release.
He increased the pace, his fingers moving faster, his tongue pressing harder. I could feel it building, a wave of pleasure that threatened to consume me. I was moaning, writhing, begging for release.
And then, it crashed over me. My body convulsed, my vision blurred, and I cried out, my voice echoing through the kitchen.
He didn’t stop, not immediately. He slowed his pace, guiding me through the waves of my orgasm, his touch gentle yet firm. I was shaking, my body sensitive and spent, but he knew just how to touch me, how to prolong the pleasure.
As I came down from the high, he placed a soft kiss on my inner thigh, then another on my hipbone. He looked up at me, a satisfied smirk on his lips. I reached for him, pulling him up to me, needing to taste him, to feel his body against mine.
His mouth found mine, and I could taste myself and Dante on his lips. It was intimate, raw, and it sent another wave of desire coursing through me. I reached for his belt, fumbling with the buckle, but he stopped me, his hand covering mine.
“Not yet,” he murmured against my lips. “This was for you, Celia. Just you.”
I couldn’t argue, not when my body was still humming with pleasure. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him closer, feeling his hardness against me. He groaned, his forehead resting against mine, his breath ragged.
“You’re making it very hard for me to be a gentleman, Celia,” he whispered, his voice hoarse with desire.
“We both know you’re no gentleman,” I whispered. “And that’s fine. I like you the way you are, Luca, all fucked up but mine.”
He let out a laugh. “God, you make me want to punish you, and you love it, don’t you?” His lips met mine in a long kiss, keeping me from answering.
His fingers sank into my hair as he deepened the kiss, and my lips parted for him, welcoming him in. His tongue thrust into mine, his mouth working against mine hungrily.
Then he was lifting me off the island and carrying me down the hallway.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere more comfortable.” He dropped a kiss onto the top of my hair.
I put my head down on my shoulder and let Luca carry me, remembering how he’d cupped his hand over my eyes to keep me from seeing the layout of his house. It hadn’t been that long ago that he had felt like my enemy.
And yet, he’d always been more than an enemy too.
Now, I felt weightless in his arms as he carried me across the threshold into the bedroom. His tousled dark hair fell across his face; he looked handsome and larger than life and mine.
I couldn’t deny I wanted all three of these men. They were my men. But the way things had been between us? I had to see that broken forever so maybe we could build something new. That was going to hurt—for all three of us. And I wasn’t sure if I could ever get Gabriel to rebuild with me.
But for now, I put my hand on Luca’s dark-stubbled jaw and turned his face to mine. Those magnetic green eyes met mine, and then the two of us were kissing again, long, wild kisses that made the rest of the world fall away.
The bed appeared beneath us suddenly, and we fell together, a tangle of limbs and breath. I landed on top of him, my thighs instinctively straddling his hips, my hair falling around our faces like a curtain separating us from the world. His hands found my waist, steadying me.
“Hi,” I said softly.
It was stupid, but it felt right too. As if we could start this thing between us all over.
His lips curved upward. Not quite a smile, but close. “Hi yourself.”
I leaned down to kiss him, needing to taste that almost-smile. Our lips met, tentative at first. Something felt different now. The kitchen had felt like the white-hot lust that had always existed between us, even when it was forbidden because he was my bodyguard, or when it was intermingled with fear, like when he pushed down over a gravestone.
But lust wasn’t all that was between us.
I paused with my hand on his stubbled jaw.
His deep green eyes tracked over my face. “Are you sure you want this?”
“Luca, I always know what I want.” I just didn’t always know how to get it.
He stroked my hair back from my face, hooking it behind one ear. “Are you sure you want me?”
Raw vulnerability was bare in his voice, even though his expression didn’t change.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Always.”
“Good. Because I’m always sure I need you.” His hand sank into my hair, and he pulled my face down to his to kiss me.
Our mouths parted, our breath intermingling as we traded kisses. His tongue swept across mine, hot and insistent. My hands cradled his face, thumbs stroking his cheekbones while his hands slid from my waist to my back, pressing me closer.
“I missed this,” he murmured against my mouth. “Missed you.”
I wasn’t ready yet to confess how much I had missed him since I had left him behind. Instead, I kissed him deeper, letting my body speak what my voice couldn’t. I shifted my hips, grinding against him, and was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath. Power surged through me—the kind of power that comes from knowing exactly how to unravel someone.
I rocked forward again, more deliberately this time. The friction sent sparks racing up my spine, pooling heat between my legs. Luca’s hands moved to my hips, guiding my movements, creating a rhythm that had my breath coming in short, shallow pants.
“Celia,” he said, and my name in his mouth sounded like a prayer.
I sat up, still straddling him, and pulled my hoodie over my head. The cool air raised goosebumps on my skin, but Luca’s gaze was fire enough to warm me. His eyes traced every inch of exposed flesh with such naked want that I burned with both the sense of exposure and of desire.
“Your turn,” I said, my fingers finding the buttons of his shirt.
He propped himself up on his elbows, watching me work. I took my time, exposing him inch by inch. The hard planes of muscle, covered in tanned skin and tattoos. The scar on his shoulder, thin and white, like he’d been in a knife fight. He had a history I didn’t know. The thought hit me hard, and I rubbed my thumb across the scar, as if I could erase it.
He took my hand in his and brought it to his lips before kissing my knuckles. He turned my hand over and kissed my palm, the sensation sending a frisson of desire pulsing through my body. “We both have our scars and wounds, don’t we?”
I shrugged. I didn’t have any history. I wanted to know his history so badly, all his stories, but I was the most boring woman in the world.
“What are you thinking, starlight?”
I hesitated.
“Do you remember when I threatened to spank you if you wouldn’t just talk to me?” His lips curved up. “That offer still stands.”
“I wouldn’t call it an offer.”
“Call it a promise, then.” His other hand skated over my skin, his big, warm palm caressing. He found my ass and squeezed it.
“Luca. I thought we were making something new.”
“Well.” He gave me a grin that suggested he didn’t regret anything. “That doesn’t mean we have to leave everything behind, does it?”
I shook my head at him, but I wondered if he could feel how wet I was against his jeans. I didn’t want to be controlled ever again. But my body certainly didn’t mind the idea of being punished.
“I was just thinking that I’ve spent my whole life being sheltered, being made…boring…and I hope you don’t get bored with me.” I stumbled over the words.
“Bored with you?” His eyes widened in genuine surprise. “Starlight, there is no alternate universe where I could ever be bored with you.”
I smiled. I couldn’t help it.
He smiled back at me slowly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as if he were slowly believing that I believed him. “If you say mean things about yourself, I really will punish you.”
I trailed my fingers down his chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath warm skin. I traced the ridges of his abdomen, the sharp cut of his hipbones. My fingers skimmed the edge of his jeans, and his stomach muscles twitched beneath my touch.
“These need to go,” I said, popping the button on his jeans.
He lifted his hips, helping me slide the denim down his legs. His boxers followed, and then he was completely naked beneath me, exposed and unashamed. I drank in the sight of him: the long, lean lines of his body, the strength in his thighs, the unmistakable evidence of his desire.
When we were both naked, he flipped us suddenly, reversing our positions so that I was beneath him, his weight a welcome pressure pinning me to the mattress. He kissed me again, deeper now, hungrier, and I arched into him, desperate for more contact.
His mouth left mine to explore my neck, my collarbones, the sensitive spot just below my ear that always made me shiver. I clutched at his shoulders, nails digging half-moons into his skin. He winced but didn’t pull away, seeming to welcome the small pain.
“Tell me what you want,” he whispered against my skin.
“You,” I said simply. “I want you.”
His hand slid between us, finding me ready. I gasped as his fingers moved against me, inside me, knowing exactly how to touch me.
I gripped his cock, stroking him a few times and watching his breath give before I guided him to my entrance.
He pushed into me slowly, giving me time to adjust to the feel of him. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and we both gasped at the sensation. For a moment we were perfectly still, joined in the most intimate way possible.
Then he began to move, and thought became impossible. There was only sensation: the slide of skin against skin, the building pressure inside me, the sound of his breath becoming more ragged with each thrust. I clung to him, hands roaming his back, his shoulders, his hair, trying to touch all of him at once.
“Eyes on me, starlight,” he said, and I realized I’d closed my eyes, lost in the sensation. His deep green eyes locked on mine.
His pace increased, and I met him thrust for thrust, our bodies remembering this dance. I felt the familiar tightening, the gathering storm of pleasure that signaled I was close. Luca must have felt it too, in the way my body tensed around him, because his fingers found that perfect spot above where we were joined, circling with just the right pressure.
“Let go,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”
And I did. I shattered beneath him, around him, my back arching off the bed, his name a broken sound on my lips. He followed me moments later, his face buried in my neck, a hoarse cry muffled against my skin.
We stayed connected as our breathing slowed, neither wanting to break the spell. His weight on me was comforting rather than crushing, anchoring me to the present when I might otherwise have floated away. Eventually, he rolled to the side, pulling me with him so that I rested against his chest, our legs still tangled together.
His heartbeat pounded against my ear, gradually slowing to its normal rhythm. I traced idle patterns on his skin, thinking about the distance we’d crossed tonight—not just physical but emotional. The walls I’d built after our separation hadn’t stood a chance against this, against him.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, fingers combing gently through my hair.
A hundred answers flashed through my mind, ranging from flippant to devastating in their honesty. In the end, I chose the simplest truth.
“I’m thinking that I could never leave you behind, Luca. Not really. That I always carry part of you with me.”
That’s good, starlight.” He pressed a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Because you always carry my whole heart with you.”