Page 49 of On Her Terms
As my cock pulses, drenched in her liquid desire, my balls scream for release, but I struggle to hang on, wanting to wring one more orgasm out of her. I wrap my arms around her and shift until she’s on the mattress beneath me. I brush her hair from her forehead and search her eyes. Warmth, openness and honesty wrapped in a hint of vulnerability stare back, and my heart squeezes. This woman deserves the world, and I want to be the man to give it to her. I move inside her, slow my pace, and she puts her hands on my cheeks as a whimper climbs out of her throat. Minutes pass, and time slows as I kiss her mouth, her shoulder, the two of us moving together in perfect sync. Our lovemaking is a little softer this time, a little slower than it was moments ago, with everything in what we’re doing holding a great amount of meaning.
Passion and desire swirl around us, pull me into a vortex of need. I press my dick in higher, slide my body against hers as I reach between us to stroke her clit. A weening cry catches in her throat and once again she’s exploding on my cock, soaking my entire length. I clench down on my jaw as her muscles bunch, squeeze, seduce an orgasm out of me. Unable to get any closer or deeper, I press my mouth to hers and give myself over to the pleasure, filling her in my release. We cling to each other, hold on like it could very well be our last night. My throat tightens, hurts like it’s been scraped raw as I press down on her. We stay like that for a long time, and when she shifts I fear I just might be crushing her. I slide off her to give her air, but she reaches out for me.
“Luca,” she moans, her body boneless, spent, completely sated from our lovemaking.
I roll her to her side, facing away from me. “Sleep,” I say and shuffle in close, needing the contact, the feel of her naked body against mine. I hug her to me, flesh to flesh, and when her breathing changes and she falls asleep, I quietly pull away. I ease from the bed, dress in the dim light and take one look at the girl who stole my heart. The girl I want desperately to make mine but can’t.
So what the fuck am I going to do about that?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Brianna
I’M NOT SURE what last night was about, but after waking up, my body sore and my heart full, I can’t stop smiling. I love that Luca couldn’t stay away, that he needed to be with me as much as I needed to be with him. It’s true we have to talk, and I wanted to last night, but I didn’t want to break the magical spell between us. And when it came right down to it, Luca didn’t appear to be in the mood for talking.
I kick my sheets off and stretch out. Noise comes from the other side of the adjoining door. I guess everyone is up but me. Probably because they weren’t up having the best sex of their life last night. Glancing at myself in the mirror, I try to wipe the smirk from my face. I’m not up to answering a million and one questions. No way would Amber let it go. But then another thought hits. When I talk to Luca, I have to be completely honest with him, and that means telling him I knew exactly who he was when we were introduced, and why I seduced him. Will he laugh it off, or be angry that I would do something so juvenile? I hurry to the bathroom, make myself somewhat presentable and brush my teeth before meeting the girls.
“What’s all the commotion in here,” I ask as I open the adjoining door. “You’d think someone was having a party.”
“Just in time,” Amber says and pours me a mimosa.
“This is going to go straight to my head,” I say and make my way to the tray of food that must have been delivered earlier. I pick up a strawberry, pop it into my mouth and reach for a muffin. I don’t usually eat like this, but...
Summer comes out of the bathroom in her pajamas, looking happy, radiant and a bit jittery, as one would on her wedding day. I smile at her, so happy for her and Tate.
I glance at Cara, who is sitting on the bed, sipping her drink and flipping the pages of the newspaper.
“Hair and makeup will be here within the hour,” Summer says. “Until then we can relax. Although I’m finding that hard to do.”
I settle onto the sofa and nibble on my muffin. Beside me, Cara chuckles. I glance over at her as Amber and Summer talk hairstyles.
“What’s up?”
“This guy. What a douchebag. His name is Marco L. Marino, from Massara, Italy.” My mind races—Luca’s last name is Marino—as she glances up at me. “I think the L must stand for loser.”
“What did he do?” I ask and stand to sit beside her. Is it possible he’s related to Luca? She shuffles over and I sit cross-legged next to her on the bed.
“He got caught having sex with his kid’s nanny, who is barely legal.” She angles the paper for me to see, and I scan the article. Something niggles in the back of my brain and I grab on to it. “I know this guy. When I was at Oxford, he was all over the news—some sex-club thing and crashing a yacht.” Luca and I talked about it when he told me where he was from. I take a look at the elderly man with Marco as he steers them away from the paparazzi. The gentleman, who appears mortified, is most likely his father, considering their similar features.
“When did this happen?” I ask.
“Yesterday’s paper,” she says, and flips the page. I make a mental note to bring it up with Luca when I get the chance.
/> I finish my muffin and mimosa as I pour over the pages with Cara. When we’re done, I slide from the bed. “I’d better jump in the shower before the stylist arrives,” I say.
“Same,” Cara says, and we go to our respective rooms. I hurry to the shower and run my hands over my body, reminiscing about the way Luca touched me last night, and hoping that come tonight, after our talk, he’ll be touching me again.
But what if he doesn’t want the same things?
I reach for the shampoo and shut down those thoughts. Today’s wedding is about love and happiness, and I refuse to let any negative thoughts ruin it.
By the time I finish showering and tug on a robe, the makeup artists and hairstylists are here. I go back to Summer’s suite, and for the next couple of hours, all four of us get prettied up for the wedding.
Our lunch is delivered, and after we eat, it’s nearing Summer and Tate’s one o’clock ceremony. I carefully slide into my plum dress, and Amber zips it for me. After giving myself a once-over in the mirror, I glance at Summer in her white dress. Tears pool in my eyes.
“Do not cry,” she warns. “If you cry, I’ll cry and I don’t want my mascara running down my face when I marry my Prince Charming.”
We all laugh at that and my heart misses a beat. How many times has Luca asked me about Prince Charming? Never in my entire life did I think I’d find one for myself, or that he’d be a guy I thought was so different at first.