Chapter 23 – Sienna #2
He moves so fast I barely register it, flinging the door open, water dripping onto the marble floor, steam swirling around us. His hand grabs my wrist, hauling me inside on a squeal as he pins me to the tile wall.
“Luca!”
His fingers wrap around my throat, not squeezing, not hurting, just holding me still, anchoring me, centering me. His thumb presses against my pulse point, and I know he can feel how fast my heart is racing.
The water is still running, soaking through the shirt I’m wearing over my bikini, and plastering my hair to my shoulders, but I barely notice.
All I can see is him.
And all I can feel is his hand on my throat, the weight of his very naked, very impressive body leaning against mine, and the evidence of his arousal pressing against my stomach.
"Sophia is nothing." His grip tightens just slightly, enough to make me gasp. "If you’re mine, I won't touch anyone else. You have my word."
His promise takes me by surprise. I expected a speech about this being a marriage of convenience, making no promises. Not this.
"How do you expect me to believe that?" I whisper.
His free hand slides down my side and over my hip as his fingers hook into the string of my bikini bottom. "I will be a loyal husband, Sienna. I will worship no other body but yours, want no woman but you, for as long as you wear my ring."
It’s not forever, but I guess neither of us is realistically expecting it to last that long.
"But I demand the same from you. More even.
" He grips the end of the string between his thumb and forefinger, pulling gently, dangerously close to loosening the bow completely.
"I am a jealous man, Sienna. Especially when it comes to you.
No other man touches you. No other man ever sees you like this.
You are mine, all fucking mine, and that's the end of it. And if you humor me and my possessive ways, you’ll be rewarded. "
"Money? Things? I don’t want that, Luca. I want to be treated well and with respect. To know where my fucking husband is."
When I say the word husband, he growls against my skin.
“How about…” Luca kisses my neck. “I respect you, always.” Kisses behind my ear. “Know this.” A nibble, a bite that has me arching against him as he teases me. “But in our bedroom, sometimes,” he whispers, “I’ll treat you like I don’t. And you’ll love every second of it.”
One tug on the string, and my bikini bottoms fall away.
I gasp, but Luca kisses me before my brain can even form an argument let alone voice it, his mouth hot and demanding, and his tongue sweeping past my lips to claim me from the inside out.
The hand on my throat slides up to angle my head exactly where he wants it, and I melt into him, all my anger dissolving into desperate, aching need.
His other hand makes quick work of my bikini top, yanking at the strings until both pieces fall away, leaving me naked except for his now see-through shirt that’s hanging open as water rains down around us.
He rears back, keeping me pinned against the tile, just long enough to rake his eyes over my body, and the raw desire staring right back makes me whimper.
"Tell me you’re mine," he growls, still keeping me at arm's length.
"I'm yours." I don’t even hesitate. "I'm yours, Luca. I never stopped being yours."
“Fuck,” he shouts, and all pretense of being in control vanishes.
He lifts me like I weigh nothing, his hands gripping the backs of my thighs, spreading me wide and wrapping my legs around his waist.
I can feel how hard he is already, that he wants this as much as I do. When he notches himself at my entrance, I'm so wet that the first inch of him slides in without resistance.
"Fuck," he groans against my throat. "You feel... Christ, Sienna."
He drives into me with one powerful thrust, burying himself to the hilt, and I cry out at the stretch, the overwhelming sensation of being claimed so completely. My nails rake down his back as he sets a demanding rhythm, each stroke hitting that spot deep inside me that pushes me higher and higher.
“Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking good.” He rolls his hips, adding a swivel at the bottom of each thrust to grind his pelvis against my clit. “It’s even better than I remember.”
This isn't gentle or sweet, but I don’t want those.
This is years of frustration and longing and fury being poured into each snap of his hips, and it’s exactly what we both need.
The bruising grip of his fingers and every ragged breath against my skin reminds us what we once had.
Luca’s not making love to me, he’s showing me that I’ve never stopped being his.
He's staking a claim and I'm helpless to do anything to stop it.
"Look at me," he demands. "Open your eyes and look at me."
Flinging my eyes open, I stare in his soul, and the unbridled emotion there nearly undoes me instantly. When he shifts his angle and his thumb strokes my clit, over and over, harder and harder, I shatter, knowing this isn't just possession, winning or losing, this was meant to be.
My release tears through me like wildfire, my inner walls clamping down on him, and he groans, his rhythm faltering as I dig my nails into his shoulders so hard, I’m sure I’ve drawn blood.
With a roar of frustration, Luca goes to pull out, but I clutch at him, digging my heels into his legs to keep him inside me.
“No!” Then a little less manic, “I’m on the pill. Please, I want it. I want you to come inside me.”
“Fuck, fuck.” Practically feral, Luca pounds into me, harder, his rhythm faltering as his thrusts grow frantic.
“Yes,” I cry out.
One hand braced beside my head, Luca comes violently, his whole body shuddering as he spills inside me, knees bent, buried so deep, it aches, his head tipped back in a guttural groan.
Unable to resist, I lick a drip of water from the hollow between his collarbone. Blinking hard, looking as dazed as I feel, he drops his head to mine, and for a long moment, we just stay there, lips millimeters apart, breathing each other's air.