Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 379(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Hard.
Deep.
Claiming every inch of me.
Making my walls tighten around him, needing more of that perfect friction, that long-awaited fullness.
The need inside was an aching, undeniable pressure. I didn't want soft and sweet, and Luca didn't give it to me.
He gave me his need—raw, primal, rough.
My body responded in kind, fingers fisting the sheets, hips rocking against him, whimpers becoming ragged moans.
Luca's hand moved out, grabbing me, pulling me up onto his lap, giving me the lead. Luca's arm went around me, sinking into my ass, guiding my reckless moves, giving me the rhythm I needed to send me up and over the edge, crashing into another orgasm, leaving me clinging to him.
Luca pressed me back against the mattress, coming over me fully, fucking me harder, faster, driving me up even before the waves stopped crashing.
My legs folded around his lower back.
My nails dug into the skin of his back, into his ass, sensing his desperation, knowing that he would come with me this time.
"Come, Romy," he demanded, voice rough, body tense.
And just like that, I did.
And as the waves started to crash, he came too, pressing deep, body tensing, my name hissing out from between his lips before his weight pressed fully onto me.
I don't know how long we stayed exactly like that, trying to slow our breathing, bring our bodies back down.
Luca's lips pressed into my neck before he pulled away, pushed up, moved off of the bed, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment before emerging, coming back, scooting me over, then pulling me onto his chest.
This was when we probably should have been talking, discussing what this meant. Or didn't mean.
But both of us—and our bodies—seemed in perfect agreement.
We were too tired for anything like that.
Luca's fingers drifted up and down my back, putting me to sleep in minutes. And, I imagined, he followed quickly after.
Neither of us had gotten proper sleep since we'd met.
We'd earned it.
"Shh, go back to sleep," Luca demanded softly some hours later when his body shifted under mine, pulling me out of a dream about being woken up with his head between my thighs.
"What's the matter?" I asked, voice groggy, eyes struggling to adjust to the lazily rising sun.
"Nothing's wrong. I have to meet Angelo," he told me, fingers tracing my jaw. "Go back to sleep. You haven't been sleeping."
"Neither have you," I insisted, giving in to the urge to press a kiss to his shoulder. "Stay," I demanded, voice a whisper.
A low groan escaped him, his smile warm when he looked down at me. "You're making it hard to say no, sweetheart," he told me, thumb tracing my lower lip. "But this is important," he reminded me.
"Then be late," I compromised, hand sliding down his stomach, closing around his cock.
"Fuck," he hissed, body tensing, caught off-guard.
"Yes, please," I told him, watching as the mix of amusement and hunger played across his face.
I reached past him into the dresser, fumbling to find the condoms, handing one to him.
Once that was settled, there was no more humor on his face as he rolled me onto my side, following suit, yanking my leg up over his hip, then sliding inside me.
Slow.
Lazy.
The kind of sex made for early mornings.
Leaning forward, I buried my face in his neck as he moved inside me, building me up. Unhurried, undemanding.
Soft, sweet, but all-consuming, ushering me up to the top, then gently pushing me over.
He came with me, hissing out his release.
"Be later," I demanded, holding on when he went to slip away.
To that, he let out a low, sexy little chuckle, wrapping me up for another minute more before pressing a kiss to my temple.
"The sooner I get going, the sooner I can be back," he reasoned.
"Fiiine," I relented, releasing him, but staying right where I was so I could watch him as he slid out of the bed, as he walked naked into the bathroom.
The shower clicked on, water splashing against the tile floor. But before I could even consider if it was far too demanding to go in there with him, it already cut off, leaving me marveling at how men could just slather some soap on and be done while we had to shave sixty-percent of our bodies and triple condition our hair, not to mention the extra exfoliating and lotioning and face serum-ing.
"What's the matter?" I asked when he came out in a charcoal gray towel slung low on his hips. Even fully satisfied just a few moments before, I could feel the need rising just watching him move around his room to his closet.
"You stole my shaving time," he accused, shooting me a wicked little smile over his shoulder.
"That's okay. I like you scruffy," I told him, sitting up on his bed. And maybe I deliberately didn't pull the sheet up with me, letting it pool at my waist.