Chapter 18
LUCA
Her tongue is in my mouth, her fingers tugging at the long hair at the nape of my neck, and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else in the whole world. What does that say about me?
I’ve got my tongue down a cop’s throat, for god’s sake. What am I doing?
“Stop,” I gasp against her neck, pulling back. “Not out here.”
“Why not?”
Because I don’t want Diego to know. Because I don’t want anyone to know. Because I shouldn’t be doing this.
I glance past us into the house and realize Diego isn’t there when I hear his car engine rev. He’s getting the hell out of here, and if I was smart, that’s what I would do, too.
I look down at her mouth and kiss her again. I never claimed to be a genius.
I groan against her lips, carrying her inside to the bedroom. I deposit her on the floor and she slides down the straps of her dress, revealing those perfect small breasts of hers. I moan in the back of my throat, my hands going to cup them.
When I run my thumbs across the peaks of her nipples, she all but sobs out my name.
“You’re so sensitive. Are you this hot when your boyfriend touches you?”
The words come out of nowhere. I’m shocked they even came out of my mouth, but I guess I want to know. I need to know who else has touched her, preferably so I can break all of their fingers.
She shakes her head. “You’re the only one.”
I scoff. “Sure. Bet you say that to all the boys.”
Sophia frowns but she still won’t really answer the question, will she?
“Want you to tell me all about your boyfriend while I get you off,” I murmur close to her ear, covering her body with my own. She’s already unbuttoned half my shirt, so I shrug it off, popping the rest of the buttons.
“No, Luca, just want you,” she whines, and I know it’s a lie, probably everything out of her mouth since we met again has been a lie, but god I want to believe it.
I want to believe she wants me and only me because I can’t get enough of her. I can’t stop thinking about her. She’s occupied my thoughts every second since I first looked into those blue eyes of hers again. Always somewhere in the back of my head.
“Pretty little liar,” I mumble under my breath, and I straighten up.
She spreads her legs wantonly, and when I look down I can see her pussy glistening. She’s wet and ready for me. Just for me.
“Please,” she pleads, begging now, begging for me, and my cock aches just looking down at her. Her back arches off the bed, and she’s so small compared to me, my hand spanning half her waist.
“Not yet, pixie. Be patient.”
I pop my index and middle finger into my mouth and suck on the digits, looking down at her. Her blue eyes are wide, her pupils blown with lust.
When I’m satisfied they’re wet enough, I remove them and slowly insert them into her pussy, hissing when she’s almost hot enough to burn me. I didn’t need to bother with wetting my fingers—she’s plenty wet, ready, swollen. Good enough to eat.
But I shouldn’t do that. That’s…intimate. Something I don’t always do with the various women I bring home or have flings with, despite it being one of my favorite pastimes.
She trembles under my touch and I pant, my tongue darting out to wet my lips. I put them on her neck instead, pumping two fingers in and out of her. I hook them up when she writhes beneath me. A little squeak comes from the back of her throat, ending in a long moan.
Her walls tighten around my fingers.
“Already close, pixie? You gonna come around my fingers before I even get a chance to be inside you? Greedy girl.”
Sophia gasps and chokes out moans, reaching up to dig her nails into my shoulders. Her nails are well-kept but short, and they sting as they rake down my back. The best sting, one I’ll love feeling in the shower later.
“Close,” she manages. “Close close close.”
I wring the orgasm from her, hissing at how tight she clenches around my fingers, over and over, and as I guide her into her second orgasm, I pull out.
I don’t want her coming around my fingers this time. I want her coming around my cock, again and again, as long as I can hold out.
Her whine turns into a moan as I unbutton my slacks hastily, freeing my erection. She looks at it hungrily, licking her lips. I smirk down at her.
“You look hungry, baby,” I coo. She pouts and sits up, opening her mouth expectantly.
Pleasure shoots down my spine. She’s such a hellion, a thorn in my side, but in bed she’s such a good girl, so obedient.
I can’t help myself from guiding my cock past her lips, telling myself it’s only for a moment, just to feel her mouth. But fuck, it’s good, she’s good, hot and wet, no teeth, just the slippery glide of me pushing to the back of her throat.
She gags, but even that’s pretty as she looks up at me with watery blue eyes, her mouth full of my dick.
“You look so pretty like this,” I rasp, threading my fingers through her short pixie-cut.
I don’t push her, just guiding her by her hair. She hollows her cheeks and I squeeze my eyes shut so she doesn’t see them rolling back into my head.
I have to yank her off me because she’s eager, bobbing her head again as soon as I manage to collect myself. I tug her off and she whimpers, pouting.
“Didn’t like it?”
I bark out a laugh. “Like it? Babydoll, I nearly blew down your throat.”
She grins. “You could have, you know.”
“Oh, I know,” I murmur. “Bet you’d let me do anything I want to you right now, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes,” she breathes.
“If I blow down your throat, I don’t get to feel that tight pussy wrapping around me.”
I shift, grabbing her ankles and wrapping her legs around my waist. I take myself in hand and she moans in anticipation, biting down on her lip and rocking her hips up.
I push into her, slowly at first, and then faster as she cries out my name, raking her nails down my back again. Little hellion. Pixie is the right pet name for her. She clearly has to be otherworldly.
I pull almost all the way out then ram back in, watching her go limp, her nipples hard and swollen. She’s close again, I can tell by the way she stiffens, by how tight she starts to feel around my cock.
“So ready to come again? What are you, pixie?”
“Yours,” she gasps. “I’m yours.”
Pleasure rockets through me at her words, making my balls draw up.
“That’s right, bellissima,” I praise through gritted teeth, so close to the edge after a few strokes that it’s criminal. But the way she sounds, the way she looks, the way she feels around me…
But then there’s this voice in the back of my head. She’s not yours. She never has been. You’re being an idiot, Luca.
That voice sounds an awful lot like my father. It throws me off and my hips lose rhythm, but only for a moment. I focus back on Sophia’s face, those big doe eyes, her blissed out expression, and it helps, but it only rockets me closer to my orgasm.
“Fuck,” is all I manage to say before I blow, spilling inside her and groaning against her neck as I lean down, moving only my hips.
Sophia lets out a low whine when I pull out slowly. I feel bad because she hadn’t reached her second orgasm. It’s kind of a competition usually, with me, to see how many times I can get a woman off before I reach my peak.
She pouts and I chuckle low in the back of my throat, sweat popping up on my forehead from the exertion. I slide down her body, dipping my tongue inside her navel, kissing along her hipbones before I spread her thighs roughly with two hands.
She gasps as I loop her knees over my shoulders, pressing my face against her sex and inhaling. Fuck, she smells good. Tastes good.
So much for not crossing this line with her.
I lap at her clit for an idle moment and she writhes, rocking her hips up to grind against my tongue. I moan against her, lolling my tongue out as she rides my face.
My dick twitches in interest despite the fact that I’m spent. Sophia can’t get enough, and it does something to me.
I slide my tongue along her slit, dipping it into her entrance and tasting her musk. I hum against her clit, latching around it and working my tongue across the sensitive bud.
“Oh, Luca, fuck,” she manages, and her voice is strained and breathy. She’s close again, I can tell by the mewling sounds she makes, how she clenches around my fingers when I insert two to the knuckle. “I’m coming, coming—”
She cries out my name when she comes, rocking her hips against my face and all I can do is groan, my dick growing half-hard just from tasting her. I keep it up, latching around her clit and she whimpers, threading her fingers through my hair and tugging my face up.
I look at her, panting, and she gives me a dopey grin.
“Too sensitive,” she mumbles.
“I’ve barely gotten started.”
Now I’m the one who wants to pout. I want more of her, want to be buried between her thighs for hours. But something snaps me out of it. I don’t know if it’s the grip she has on my hair or how desperately I wanted to keep pleasuring her, but something snaps.
I move away from her quickly, my heart racing. I can’t let myself get swept back into this. I couldn’t stop thinking about her for months, years after she left. Not to mention the fact that she might still be a cop, might be trying to take me down.
I can’t trust her, and I can’t trust myself not to get so pussy drunk I lose sight of what’s important.
Finding out the truth. What does she know? How much does she have on me?
Focus, Luca, I tell myself as I look down at her pouting mouth, her nude, curvy body. You have to focus.
“Where are you going?”
I scoff. “What, you wanted to cuddle after?”
Her face falls and my heart clenches in my chest. She’s hurt, and something about that bothers me even though it shouldn’t. She’s my enemy, dammit. I have to keep reminding myself of that.
“You still don’t trust me.”
“Of course I don’t.”
“Then why did you fuck me?”
“Don’t have to trust you to fuck you, sweetheart,” I drawl, and she huffs out a breath, blowing her bangs out of her face. She looks away and I get up and adjust my clothes, getting dressed.
“So that’s it, then?” she asks, and I look at her, tilting my head curiously.
“I’m curious. What did you expect?”
My words come out even colder than I’d intended, and I can’t look at her, at the flash of hurt in her blue eyes.
I stalk out of the room, locking the door behind me. I press my forehead against the door, breathing out a long breath.
What the fuck is wrong with me? Why do I feel guilty when she’s the one undercover, trying to topple my empire? The one I’ve worked so hard for since I was fifteen.
I’ve got to get my shit together. And step one is to stay as far away from Sophia as I can.