Chapter 32 Matilda
The second our lips touched, Luca groaned into my mouth, the most delicious, deep sound, sending liquid heat straight to my core and overwhelming my senses.
His hands left my face, one pushing the bag off my shoulder and the other gripping my waist, pulling me in until my body was flush with his. No other kiss had ever felt like this, so consuming that my body was fueled entirely by need.
“Not close enough,” he murmured, my heels skimming against the ground as he nudged me backward, our lips working against each other in perfect tandem.
My back collided with the closed door just as Luca’s strong hands hooked under my thighs, lifting me effortlessly.
I snaked my arms around his shoulders, fingers weaving through the messy strands of hair at the nape of his neck.
Luca’s hand momentarily left my thigh to lock the door, the click echoing through the room.
Then, with renewed intensity, he returned to our kiss, deepening it further.
He gripped my arse, pulling me into his hardness, the pressure only serving to intensify the throbbing between my legs.
“Jesus Christ, you taste fucking delicious.”
I moaned, goosebumps prickling along my arms, fueling the fire that burned deep in my core.
Our kisses were frantic, weeks of pent-up frustration and longing peaking. Strong hands traveled my body, looking for new places to discover, his movements assured and solid, like he knew what he wanted and was taking it.
His hips circled again, easing the smallest amount of delicious tension before another wave of desire crashed into me, stronger than before.
“Oh my god, Luca,” I moaned.
“Fuck.” He kissed my jaw. “I’ve been dreaming about you moaning my name for weeks,” he whispered, kissing my pulse, down my neck, across my chest.
His lips descended, leaving a scorching trail across my cleavage as he devoured my skin. Every sweep of his tongue set it on fire, igniting my need for him even more.
“God, I need to see you,” he murmured as he lowered his mouth closer and closer to my neckline.
“Please,” I begged, and without hesitation, he obliged. Yanking the front of my dress down, he grasped my breasts in his hands, groaning.
“More,” I managed to gasp out between kisses.
“Hmm?”
“More,” I repeated, delirious and consumed by the moment.
“Use your words, Matilda. You want me to make you say them?” His hands were back on my arse, slipping beneath the leotard of my dress—the thin barrier of my tights the only thing between his hands and my bare skin.
“Do you want me to beg you to say them?” His voice was a whisper against my breasts as he drew a nipple into his mouth.
Heat surged through me, a rush of wetness igniting my core.
“I won’t need to beg,” he said with a knowing laugh and sat me on the vanity.
I barely noticed the ching of bottles falling over as he spread my legs and pulled me to the edge.
“Tell me what you need, Matilda,” he continued, but all I could do was whimper in response as he admired the view and sucked in a deep breath.
I didn’t have time to feel self-conscious as I mirrored his appraisal. Luca’s swollen lips curved into a sexy smirk as he ran a hand through his mussed hair. My mouth watered, the pulse between my legs growing stronger.
He stepped closer again, leaving a long, lingering kiss on my lips.
“Good girls who beg get to lie back and take it. Bad girls”—he pulled me off the vanity and into his body—“get bent over and fucked.”
Holy shit.
He spun me around, pulling my arse so it was flush with his groin. His erection dug into me so deliciously that I couldn’t help but grind into him.
“Too late,” he admonished, putting an inch of distance between us so I had nothing to work against. “When I saw you in this tiny fucking dress earlier, I wanted to drop to my knees and worship you there and then.” His hands roamed up my body, kneading my breasts from behind.
I shut my eyes, overwhelmed by the image of us reflected in the mirror.
“Open your eyes so you can see what a tease you’ve been.
” Needing him to release the building tension, I obliged.
I followed his hands as they traveled south, disappearing under the skirt of my dress.
Despite the layers of fabric, the direct pressure of his hand between my legs caused my head to drop back to his shoulder with a moan.
Then, he finally pressed his body firmly against my backside.
But it wasn’t enough.
“Ready to beg yet?” he mocked. I stayed silent despite the fact I was grinding into his hand like I was in heat.
“Oh,” he whispered along my neck. “Do you want it like this?”
“Yes,” I whispered, unable to say anything more but wanting him to know I wanted it…
“Bend over, then,” he commanded, his hand withdrawing and leaving an ache that begged for his touch to return.
As my lips parted—uncertain of what to say—he placed his hand on the center of my back, pushing me down until my bare chest pressed against the cold vanity.
I inhaled sharply, the frigid surface shocking my warm skin.
He crouched, flipped the tiny scrap of skirt over my arse, then tore it away.
“Luca, the dress,” I breathed out, appalled he’d destroyed the gorgeous costume and my tights. I tried to stand, but he pressed his palm to my lower back.
“It’s ruined already. The crystals are everywhere.” I glanced back. Hundreds of tiny crystals covered the floor.
“Don’t move,” he demanded, and more wetness rushed to my center at his dominant words.
His hands rubbed the back of my thighs, traveling up and up until they hit the juncture of my legs. The cool air crashed against the hot, damp skin between my legs, covered only by a thin thong. His thumb stroked over the soaked fabric, but I couldn’t find it within myself to be embarrassed.
Luca’s thumb hooked my panties, pulling them to the side, his cool breath causing me to push on to the balls of my feet. Jesus Christ. “For someone who wasn’t willing to beg, you’re dripping.”
“Please, Luca.”
“You’re learning,” he answered.
And then he feasted.
His mouth clamped down, nipping and sucking between my thighs.
His fingers dug into the swell of my arse in the most deliciously painful way. Unable to stay still with the building pleasure, I leaned forward, but his mouth didn’t relent.
Nothing had felt this amazing before.
He pulled back for a second, and just as I moaned at the loss, he pushed a finger in and curled.
I cried out, my cheek pressing into the cold surface, my toes curling. He was a man possessed, eating and lapping as if it might have been his last meal.
He fucked me with his mouth over and over again. I was shamelessly grinding into his face at that point, looking for more friction, more pressure, more anything.
“Fuck, Luca…”
“You might not beg with your words, but your pussy is doing it for you.”
Another tingle of shivers shot down my spine and straight to my core at his filthy words. I clenched around his fingers as they worked against that most sensitive spot inside me. I could feel the climax building and building, within reach but not quite.
“Luca,” I whispered, and he withdrew his mouth, kissing over a round of my arse and up my back.
“Yes, Stevens?” He snaked a hand around my waist, pulling my body flush with his.
“I don’t know if I can come.”
His movements paused for a moment. “Do you want to stop?”
“No,” I said firmly.
“Tell me what you like, then. I’m a good student.” His hand went down again, and my legs weakened with pleasure.
“I don’t know,” I answered genuinely.
“Has anyone made you come before?” Slow circles continued around my clit, making it difficult to concentrate on my words.
“No,” I whispered.
Luca released an almost animalistic groan of need and wasted no time spinning me around and hoisting me up to his waist again. Carrying me over to the sofa, he leaned against the back cushions and pulled me on top of him.
From this position, he was straining against his zip, and I was desperate to see more. My fingers moved with urgency as I unzipped his trousers. He lifted his hips to tug his boxers down, giving me room to pull him out.
A fresh round of arousal flooded my body as I took his cock and stroked from top to bottom.
He was hard and hot and, my god, I desperately wanted him inside me.
Maybe Luca was right. I haven’t been fucked before.
I stroked him again—once, twice, and a third time before his hips flexed and his head fell back.
“Just like that,” he praised. I rubbed him a few more times, eliciting a harsh, strained breath from the man. My clit throbbed, turned on by his pleasure.
I raised myself on my knees, shuffling backward to make my way to the floor. But he grabbed my arms, halting my descent.
“Not today.” He tugged me back. “Come here.” He repositioned me so I was straddling him again.
He slightly parted his legs so that mine stretched further apart, baring me to him.
Taking my hand, he dragged it down my stomach and between my legs.
My back arched as he worked our fingers together and fisted himself with his other hand, dragging up and down his length.
Luca’s hand vanished from between my legs, and I pulled his face to mine. Our lips molded, the pace starting slow but quickly speeding up.
“Touch yourself,” Luca murmured between kisses, and I obeyed, encouraged by his actions.
Watching Luca touch himself was the most erotic thing I’d ever seen.
Another wave of shivers coursed through my body, and I picked up my pace, circling faster. Now in control of my orgasm, I felt even closer to the brink of coming. I was so, so close. I glanced down to watch him work himself again.
He pulled my head back to his.
“Look at you. Rubbing your pretty pussy just for me.” He pushed two fingers inside me, and I exploded on a moan. Heat spread up my back and across my entire body. I arched into his touch, unable to control my body’s reaction.
I was still riding the waves of the best orgasm of my life when he groaned my name, following my climax.
The smell of sex and sweat hung heavy in the air, our panting the only sound echoing around the room.
Luca reached over to the coffee table, grabbed a tissue, and wiped his hand clean before throwing it in the bin.
I collapsed against his chest, unable to do much more. His arms bracketed around my waist.
Peering around, I surveyed the carnage we’d caused. The poor dress. Crystals covered almost every surface, barely a bottle remained on the vanity, and our skates were discarded in the center of the room.
Luca tucked a stray hair behind my ear, kissed my jawline, then made his way to my lips.
A gentle warmth enveloped my body, the rhythmic sounds of our breathing soothing any residual adrenaline.
I melted into his embrace, his arms draping around me in a warm cocoon.
I didn’t know whether Luca usually did this after sexual activities, but I couldn’t find it within me to care.
If Luca wanted me to get off him, he would say.
After a few minutes, I leaned back to study his face. The lines on his forehead had smoothed, and his eyes held a soft, relaxed gleam.
And then he smiled.
My heart melted, a warm, tender sensation rushing over me. When Luca smiled, he was easily the most gorgeous man on the planet.
His lips parted to say something when there was a knock at the door.
“Producer incoming,” said a voice through the door.
Our eyes widened.
“Was that Jack…” I said at the same time Luca said, “Did he just say…”
We scrambled off the sofa in a tangle of limbs. He tucked himself back into his trousers and turned to me.
“Thirty seconds,” Jack announced from the other side of the door.
“What do I do?” I took in my destroyed dress. I covered my boobs, the straps of my beautiful costume completely broken.
“A bit late for modesty,” Luca observed smugly.
“Luca!” I whisper-shouted.
He chuckled but rushed to my side. “Hold still.”
And proceeded to tear the dress down my body.
I was left standing naked except for a pair of ripped tights and a tiny thong.
“What are you doing?!” I demanded, but he simply threw the dress into the corner. “You’ve made it worse!”
“Not from where I’m standing,” he mumbled as he rushed to the corner of the room where my oversized hoodie had been thrown and launched it across to me. I caught it, tossing it over my head.
“I need some shorts.”
“If they weren’t so fucking small, we’d be able to find them.”
“Your sassing is not helping, Luca!” I dashed across the room, rummaging through my bag to find my gym shorts, holding them up in victory.
I pulled them up my legs quickly and dragged my fingers through my hair.
The door handle rattled futilely. Luca locked the door, thank god—
Keys jingled from the other side. Surely, he wasn’t going to let himself in?
The key clicked as it slid into the lock. We scrambled across the room, rushing to take our seats.
Luca slumped on to the sofa beside me, pulled my feet up, and threw them across his lap.
Mark didn’t bother knocking before he strolled straight into the dressing room.