by Deana Birch
“Gwendelyn.” Adrian’s fallen face matched the pit in Luca’s stomach. “She’s been begging Elias to buy her the club for a while, and she was really pissed when she wasn’t even mentioned as a potential owner.”
Noah pivoted toward Luca. “I’m afraid they’ve been telling everyone not to pay their dues. She’s started rumors you’re not really interested in the management and that she’s bearing the brunt of the work around here.” Noah blinked several times. “Your last trip to Italy only fueled her fire.”
Luca exhaled through his mouth and dropped his head back. He’d seen the proof a half hour ago in Claire’s paperwork, but hearing about the betrayal out loud added a gunshot to the stab wound.
“I’m so sorry, Luca. I hated keeping this from you, but I had to be sure. Bruno’s time was almost up, and I didn’t want to raise any red flags to stall the sale,” Adrian said with a sympathetic frown.
Trust. It boiled down to trust, a lesson he tried to teach every sub he’d ever met. He could almost laugh at himself for falling victim to giving his to the wrong people.
Except Claire.
Claire, who had tracked Luca’s wellbeing on her radar, even when they’d been apart. Luca rolled his shoulders back.
“You are a true friend, Adrian. And this explains everything about you, Mr. Paulick.” Luca shot a side-eye to Noah for good measure. “And fortunately for me, Claire is as clever as Bruno’s greatest love. She has just presented to me the financial proof.”
When he searched her eyes, he found no pride. In fact, he was quite sure there was more concern than anything else—another reason to love her. He could hardly believe he was willing to admit it. But the confession was liberating, even with all the complications surrounding it.
“What now?” Noah asked.
Luca was ready for Adrian and Noah to leave, but there was one piece of the puzzle he needed before seeing them to his door, so he could feed the unacceptably thin frame of his cara.
“Is there any reason to believe that Max is in on it?” Luca asked Noah.
Noah scratched his blond head. “I wondered that myself, but as far as I could tell, no. I don’t think so.”
At least there was that. Luca should probably give Max a raise and promote him to manager, because there had been some truth in Gwendelyn’s words. While ensuring a safe haven for the community was a priority for Luca, buying the club had been more of a favor to Bruno than a passion for him. During his time with his sotto, he’d not so much as wondered what else went on outside the door of his suite. And without her…it had been worse.
Luca and Adrian hugged tight as they said goodbye, and he promised to lighten up on Noah. After all, he had helped save the club. He walked back over to Claire, who was staring out of the window at the river below. The city’s lights reflected off the water, creating a shiny blur as a backdrop.
He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her back into his chest. She leaned in, and supporting someone for the first time in the day allowed him to relax deeper.
“What about us, Luca?” Claire asked in a soft whisper. “What’s next for us?”
Luca skimmed her neck with his lips. If she thought he was unclear about his plans for his cara, she was mistaken. “First, my little popcorn-eating genius, I feed you.”
“Then?” she asked with mischief.
“Then you prove to me you love me.”
Claire spun slowly to face him. She uncrossed her arms and brought them around Luca’s neck. “I do love you—and I am very ready to prove it.”
He arched a brow, more out of instinct than doubt. “What I’m going to ask you to do may not be easy.”
“I trust you.”
And he didn’t want to abuse her trust, especially after the hard lesson of his day, but there was one thing Luca needed from Claire that she might not be able to do, that she may not want to do.
“Spend the night with me. Here. In my bed.”
Claire rubbed her lips together and he wondered if he’d gone too far, wondered if he was asking the one thing she wouldn’t give.
“As you wish.”
Their lips met with a gentle kiss and they held it. Luca ran his hands down Claire’s ribs and landed on her bony hips, reminding him of his duties before their celebration.
Reluctantly, he broke their embrace and pushed his forehead into hers. “Time to eat. Your diet missed me.”
She smirked. “Shall we discuss the bags under your eyes?”
Luca scrunched his nose. A brat. He’d fallen in love with a brat disguised as blonde financial superhero.
“I don’t think we shall, cara.”
They shared a bottle of wine at dinner, offering more proof to Luca that they would be entering his bedroom—a sight previously unseen to anyone but his maid—as Luca and Claire. Master and sotto would be back soon enough. Luca already had plans for correcting her eating habits and language.
But for him, he needed to be Luca. He had to be sure that she was there for him, not the man he was when she wore the collar—a collar that would need to be replaced with one far more superior and suitable for the likes of Claire Favre.
She stacked the plates in the dishwasher and he dried the final pot from their pasta. With it secure in the drawer with the other pans and all tasks finished, Luca was finally able to turn his attention to worshiping the woman he loved.
He slid in behind her and pushed his hips into her ass, pinning her between the counter and his hungry body. He slipped his hand into her blouse as she let out a small moan and dropped her head into his shoulder.
“One night only, cara.” He found her nipple and pinched hard. She whimpered, and he pushed his erection into her ass. “One night, no permission needed to come. But then”—he pinched again—“they’re all mine again. Always.”
“Fuck…” Her curse was both a plead and an admission.
“Naughty, naughty.” He nipped her neck. The urgency building inside tempted him to take her right there in the kitchen. But that contradicted, and was immediately swallowed by, the desire to make sure she knew how much he cherished her.
And not just her body or her brilliant mind. The woman had offered him her heart, the one part of her they had both been sure was off limits.
“You are divine, Claire Favre,” he whispered in her ear as he kissed the spot that made her shiver. He lowered his hand to meet hers. Luca grasped it and tugged. He led her out of the kitchen and down the hall.
At the base of his large wooden-framed bed, he stroked her cheek. “Thank you for coming back to me. Thank you for saving the club.”
“Thank you for saving me.”
The words were barely out of her mouth when he covered her lips. Kissing her had always been the best part of their time together, and now he understood why.
He unbuttoned her blouse and she made fast work of his shirt. The intensity of their kiss grew with every article of clothing left wrinkled on his floor. Luca wrapped an arm around her back and pushed Claire to the bed.
His cock ached for her, but it would have to wait until his mouth had been satisfied. He pecked, sucked and nibbled his way down between her legs. With a gentle push, he spread her thighs apart and took a long lick of her sleek folds. He twirled his tongue around her clit before he kissed and pulled it toward him. In a slow, deliberate rhythm, he repeated his path. As her moans deepened, he added more suction and slid two fingers inside her.
Claire’s breath caught, her walls clenched and a blissful scream echoed in his bedroom.
He let her settle and went back to work. This time, he added a finger in the ass he longed for and watched her shake and wiggle under the skill of his quick movements.
She came again, much harder, and he kissed her gently as she recovered.
“So help me, but I do love you,” he said, once she’d finally opened her eyes.
The tip of Luca’s cock flinched as skin touched skin for the first time. As if sensing his need for permission, she nodded once, and he push
ed through into her warm velvet depths. The foreign sensation bathed him in rapture.
Claire stretched her arms overhead and he gripped her wrists as his lazy rock continued. Too soon, but what could have been a lifetime later, the mounting need tore him from the utopia of her eyes. His balls tightened and his cock stretched to its limit as he came.
The release—of so much, perhaps everything—left him longing for more intimacy. At some point, he moved from being on top of her to his back and she cuddled in.
And she stayed. With him.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Claire
“You have been there a million times. You aren’t allowed to have a fashion crisis over this anymore.”
Claire made a face at the phone sitting on her dresser blasting Julien’s voice on speaker. “This time is different. We are more. He’s mine as much as I’m his.”
“Yes, yes, yes. You are wonderful. He is wonderful. You’re just so fucking wonderful together and neither one of you ever think about the poor, lonely, single Julien who so wisely nudged you toward your multiple orgasmic bliss.” His mini tirade ended on a huff followed by a string of expletives at Claire’s answering laugh.
Her gaze landed on the black, backless dress she’d worn the very first time she’d gone to the club with Luca and she grinned as she pulled it from the closet. “Oh, this will be perfect! And I promise, my pretentious little queen, that I will find you someone worthy of your catty bitchiness soon. It is at the top of my to-do list.”
Julien snorted. “I thought Luca was the only thing on your to-do list.”
She wiggled her hips as she slid the satiny material over the new white-lace thong she had bought to surprise Luca tonight. “First thing tomorrow.” The doorbell rang and fire immediately shot through her, knowing only one person would be here at eight o’clock on a Friday night. “Monday. Make that Monday. Yes, first thing Monday we will start the search for someone I deem good enough for you.”
Groaning, Julien bade her farewell and clicked off the line. She stepped into the black shoes lined up beside her bed and raced down the stairs as fast as she dared on the spindly five-inch heels. The complete lack of oxygen when she opened her door had nothing to do with her pace and everything to do with the sexy Italian waiting on the other side, looking more than delicious in a fitted gray turtleneck sweater and black leather coat.
“Good evening, cara.” His dark gaze swept over her and a smile immediately curled his lips. “You are looking stunning, as always.”
The knowledge that this man loved her was still too new to not inspire intense awe. “Good evening, Luca.” She stepped to the side, matching his pretense of manners and etiquette. Knowing that so very soon all the polite words would be stripped away when she presented to her Master. “Won’t you please come in?”
He hesitated barely more than a moment before crossing the threshold but enough to make her heart ache with understanding. His respect for her didn’t end when they stepped out of their roles, when they were simply Luca and Claire. That made her love for him grow.
He arched his eyebrows as he walked slowly between the rooms. She tried to see them through his eyes, comparing his monochromatic world to her eclectic and colorful one. Her nerves suddenly settled and she gripped her hands tightly together in front of her.
“This is…quite different from your office, Cara.”
Quite different was an understatement. Her office had been designed for very specific intentions and personality played no factor there. But her home housed every little mismatched and imperfect item she’d collected along the path of her life—the tchotchkes she’d used to hide in a box beneath her bed for her parents never to find, the chipped and cracked cups and saucers, the handmade quilts spread across the back of her couch.
Often each piece had a little story attached that the seller would solicitously share and she’d tuck into the back corners of her mind. When they didn’t, she’d craft her own tale of happy homes and loving families.
Luca turned back to where she waited anxiously for rebuke or derision. So few were aware of this side of Claire Favre and none had ever truly understood it. Julien, as precious to her as he was, merely indulged her little idiosyncrasies, the same as Liam had.
Slowly he shook his head as he ambled to her. He gripped her hip firmly and cupped her cheek. “I cannot wait to hear what each piece means to you.” He schooled his features into a stern expression. “But first we have something to discuss, my sotto.”
At the use of her submissive title, she dropped her eyes. “Yes, Sir?”
“No. Non. I need you to look at me, sotto.” When she lifted her gaze, he gave a brief, approving nod. “I believe you took something from my suite, something that you are not allowed to enter the club without wearing.”
Her eyes widened, mouth falling slack. “Oh! Yes, Sir. My collar. It’s upstairs, I’ll—”
Luca held up one hand. “No, sotto, no need. That is not the collar you were ever intended to wear anyway. That was my desperate attempt to deny that you were different from everyone else—a stupid and futile move.” He winked. “Even Doms make mistakes…although it is quite rare.”
A smile tugged at her lips, despite the pang in her chest at his words. Even after she’d known it was the same as every girl’s who had come before her, it still meant so much to her and she wanted to put it on.
“Although, even in my misguided attempt at lying to myself, I still managed to add details unique to my sotto. Thoughts that had never occurred to me before.” He cleared his throat and reached into his pants pocket, pulling out a red box and lifting the lid. “I ordered this the same day as the other, for reasons I wasn’t yet ready to admit.”
Claire struggled to get a clear picture of the necklace lying on the crushed velvet lining. The thin silver chain held a delicate heart-shaped lock, accented with diamonds that caught every ray of light in her living room. “Cartier makes collars now?”
He smiled as he pulled the jewelry from the box and held it up. “They do when I speak with the designer. Now, sotto, remember everything I told you about the training collar? How it was temporary? How it would claim you as mine publicly at the club for your protection and nothing more?”
Her eyes darted from the item to Luca and back again. She nodded vigorously. “Yes, Sir.”
“Forget it all.” He reached behind her to lock the collar in place. “This is for my sotto, my cara, my Claire. This is a piece for you to wear every day—work, home or club.” He ran his lips along her cheek. “This is a symbol of my commitment to put you first and make all decisions with your best interest in mind. Cara, this is a symbol of my love, protection and promise.”
She ran her fingers across the cool metal. “I love it.” Their lines eternally blurred past the point of caring about allowances, she leaned forward and kissed her Dom. Her Luca. Hers. He belonged to her as much as she belonged to him. She pulled back slightly and smiled. “Are we ready to go play, Sir?”
* * * *
Entering the main floor of the club brought newfound nerves for Claire. No longer did she worry about what she would see, but now she worried about what Luca saw. The membership had waned slightly in the wake of his expulsion of Elias and Gwendelyn. Several subs who had aligned themselves with them had left as well—and a small handful of Doms. Although, he was entrusting more and more of the day-to-day operation to the ever-capable Max, who was flourishing under his newfound power.
But Claire knew the club’s success went far beyond financial for Luca. He couldn’t care less about the money, but Bruno’s memory—as well as honoring the promise he’d made to his dear friend to keep the safe haven running—was of preeminent importance. And for that reason alone, Claire worried.
She tugged on his arm as soon as they’d entered the main floor, while they were still simply Luca and Claire. She pulled him toward a dark corner close to the cloakroom.
Luca grinned down at her, pushing her against the wall and pressin
g his knee into the apex of her thighs. “My little sotto can’t wait?”
Claire gasped as he ground against her. She reached for his face seconds before his mouth claimed hers. She moaned against his lips, reveling in the passionate kiss for a moment before pushing him back slightly.
“No.” She shook her head. “I mean yes, but no. Luca, are you okay? This is the first time we’ve been on the second level in two weeks, the first time we’ve watched any of the playtime.” She rubbed herself on the length of his thigh. “The first time we will play.”
“Madre mia.” He groaned. He left feather-light touches along the length of her spine before finding her ass with a tight grip.
She frowned. “There will be empty places. There will be familiar faces you will no longer see. Are you okay?”
His body stilled and his eyes softened. “My sotto is protecting her Dom?”
She smiled, toying with the short hairs on the back of his neck. “Subs can be possessive too, especially when they are in love with their Doms.” She pulled him close, whispering against his lips, “And I do love you.”
Their mouths joined again, softer than before. When he finally pulled back, he had to clear his throat three times before his Dom affect was securely in place. “Now, I believe my sotto said something about public play.”
He gave her a moment to readjust the tight dress before lacing his fingers through hers and leading her toward the stairs. She dropped her eyes as they climbed, intent on not embarrassing Luca by being disrespectful. “Yes, Sir.”
“And have you thought about where to start, sotto?”
“Yes, Sir. I was thinking the public shower. If you allow.”
Luca let loose with a string of colorful expletives and Claire was gratified she’d instructed her newly acquired—and very bewildered—Italian tutor to start by teaching her what the curse words were in her beloved’s native tongue.
