And that was what he was doing. My will was his. My pleasure at his command. He held me how he wanted, thrusting into me with a force that would have been blinding if I hadn’t been so fucking enchanted by our reflection.
His teeth captured his bottom lip. His eyes were on me, on the space where we were joined. It was heady knowing that, without a doubt, the focus of his concentration was solely on me. He watched himself pump his thick cock into me over and over while I watched the effect it had on him.
“I’ve been walking around hard for you since you ruined my sheets.” He slid his palm along my spine and trailed back down to my ass, spreading me with his fingers.
“There’s only so much I can take, Saoirse. My home smells like you. Now I’m gonna ride my bike with memories of your body wrapped around mine. You’re everywhere.”
“You’re everywhere for me too,” I panted. “I think about you when I make myself come.”
“Good. If you think about anyone else, I’ll kill them.”
I grinned in delirium. This man was out of his mind. “What if they’re famous?”
He smacked my ass. “Don’t play with me. Not when I’m inside you.”
I arched my ass and moaned as he smacked me again. “But what if I really, really like sparkly vampires?”
The growl he let out was feral. “I look good in fangs.”
“You’re crazy.”
Smack. “You made me this way. Little silky nightgown. I’m never sleeping again, knowing you’re next door to me wearing that. Christ, Saoirse. You’re invading me.”
My skin was coated in perspiration, slipping and sliding over the shiny wooden top of the dresser. I scrabbled to keep hold, to find purchase, finally slamming my palms down and pushing back, meeting his thrusts.
“I feel you squeezing me, trying to get me to lose it. You’re going to get your wish if you’re not careful.”
With that, I circled my hips as well as I could in this position, tearing a groan from deep within his chest. If I thought he’d been fucking me hard before, I’d been delusional.
I’d set him off. Unleashed him. He drilled into me, slamming me into the dresser over and over. In the back of my mind, I was aware I’d be bruised and sore later, but dear god, it would be worth it.
My inner walls clamped around him, so close to the edge, I couldn’t stop my eyes from closing, losing the intoxicating reflection. Moments later, I lost Luca too.
He pulled out of me, then his fingers tangled in my hair, yanking me upright. His cock was wedged tightly between my cheeks as he rutted and grunted into my ear, louder and louder, until warmth spilled on my skin in spurts. Luca’s mouth clamped onto my shoulder, biting down on the muscle while he came and came on me.
Jerking his hips back, he slid his fingers down my crack, over my slick folds, to my throbbing clit. His fingertips circled and his tongue lapped at the sore spot he’d left on my shoulder.
That was all it took for me to find the orgasm I thought I’d lost. My head fell forward, crying his name on a long, breathy moan.
Slowly, Luca’s arms shifted to wrap around me, holding me flush with his chest. I covered one hand with mine, the other braced on the dresser, not trusting my knees to hold me up on their own.
Luca’s lips touched my temple, and he tucked his face beside mine. “I have to ask you something.”
That sounded somewhat ominous. I tipped my head back to see him. “What is it?”
“Did I say shit about being a vampire?”
“You did. Next time, I expect you to wear fangs.”
He exhaled, his head falling against mine. “Can’t do it. Next time is going to happen in about five minutes, and I’m not willing to leave this room naked in order to hunt down a pair of fangs.”
My pussy clenched. “Five minutes?”
“Mmhmm.”
Luca lifted me off my feet, carrying me to the shower.
He didn’t make good on his promise.
It was more like six minutes.
Chapter Twentythree
Luca
Saoirse hissed when I helped her off the motorcycle, cupping herself between her thighs. The ride back to Denver hadn’t been as smooth as the one out of town. We’d stopped twice to give her a break, but she was still aching.
I didn’t like seeing her hurting. Not when it was my fault for being a fucking animal with her. I couldn’t feel guilty for that. It was my timing that needed a lot of work. “I’m sorry, pretty girl. I was way too hard on you before going on a long ride.”
She shook her head. “I liked it though.”
“I was right there. I know you did. I have the claw marks on my back to prove it.”
“Shut up, Luca.” She bunched the front of my jacket in her fist. “It’s okay. I’ll live. I might need a break from the motorcycle for a little while, but other than that—”
She squealed when I swooped her up in my arms and headed toward the elevator.
“You’re carrying me. Why are you carrying me?”
“Shhh.” Stepping into the elevator, I punched the button to our floor. “Let me do it. I need to do something.”
“Okay. I’m guessing this is you being sweet.” She patted my cheek. “Thank you for carrying me.”
“You like this?” I moved my hand to palm her ass, giving it a squeeze.
Her eyes flared. “I liked it when I thought you were being sweet. Now it’s clear you were just looking for an excuse to feel me up.”
“I don’t need an excuse.”
An hour later, we’d unpacked, I’d gone through some of the emails I’d neglected while we were away, and Saoirse had showered. She padded into the den, where I was sitting with my laptop on the sectional, plopping down a cushion away.
“I haven’t thanked you for the way you stood up for me yesterday.”
I clicked the laptop closed, setting it aside. “It was part of our agreement.”
“I’m not sure you knew what you were getting into when you agreed, though. My mother is intense and hard to handle. So, thank you, Luca. It meant a lot to me.”
“I don’t want you thanking me for doing the right thing.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “Well, I am. What are you going to do about it?”
I ran my gaze over her long legs and exposed midriff. Her damp hair woven into a braid. The new freckles on her cheeks from all the time we spent outside on the ranch.
She made my place look good.
“Are you spoiling for a fight?”
“Maybe. I’m feeling a little vulnerable from that trip. Lashing out at you seems like a good idea right now.”
Leaning over, I slid my hand under her knees, twisting her body sideways so her feet were on my lap. They were soft, her toes painted pale pink, pretty like every other part of her. I took them in my hands, rubbing the tops and soles.
“No lashing when I’m giving you a foot massage,” I said. “Tell me why she’s like that.”
She blew out a long breath and wiggled her toes. “She’s always been that way. Exacting. But when she and my dad were together, she was softer. When I wanted to take belly dancing lessons instead of ballet, she started to get pissed, but my dad wrapped his arms around her, kissed her cheek, and said, ‘Come on, Lil. Everyone does ballet. Our girl has to dance her own rhythm.’ That was all it took. A snuggle, a kiss, and some soft words, and she was giving in.”