by Wood, Vivian
My mouth goes dry as I take him in, fully nude, his cock jutting out proudly.
I know what’s going to come next. I’ve been waiting for this moment for too long.
Now it’s finally time.
Chapter Eighteen
Cate
My pulse races.
My body hardens under Luca’s touch.
My pulse races when he knots his hand in my hair and pulls me closer. I look up at him, tall and dark and broad, his eyes full of desire.
He delivers a kiss to my lips, if you can even call it that. His touch is devastating and rough.
This is it. This is what I have been wanting ever since I got drunk in Vegas. Luca and me, nothing separating us anymore. Skin touching nothing but bare skin.
I close my eyes, preparing myself. He’s just going to force my legs open and have his way with me. I know it. I figure that even Luca won’t know what I like this first time we have sex, and I’m okay with it.
He surprises me though, showing me things that I didn’t even know could turn me on. Luca starts by putting a broad hand in the middle of my chest, forcing me down onto my back. I go without a struggle.
When he covers my right nipple with his mouth, my eyes open. I look down to see him licking and blowing on it; the feeling of his tongue against my nipple makes it harden, makes me wonder what he is up to.
It also makes me writhe. It feels naughty, trails of sensation bleeding down from my breasts to my hips, my thighs, the vee between my legs. I gasp his name aloud, which makes him growl in response.
Luca lies down beside me, never taking his mouth away from my breast. His hand skates down my ribs, over the flatness of my stomach, and traces the flare of my right hip.
His touch trails down to my knee, then inward to the seam of my legs. Then he skims upward, going right to the vee between my legs. His fingers probe there but my instant reaction is just to press my legs together more tightly.
He lifts his head for long enough to say, “Open your fucking legs, princess.”
I bite my lip, watching his face. When I don’t comply fast enough, he makes a frustrated sound and pulls my knees apart. Then he makes stern eye contact with me. “Keep your knees open for me, Cate. Don’t make me tell you again.”
For some reason, the sound of his voice right now, rough and angry, makes me squirm. Luca looks back down between my legs, nudging them further apart. “Wider. Like this.”
My pussy is pink and gleaming under his gaze. He drops a lazy kiss to my right knee, startling me. I buck just once, making him chuckle. “You’re so responsive, princess. I haven’t even touched your pussy yet.”
His fingers brush down over my lower stomach. He glances back up at me with a devilish look. “I think I need to make you cream for me.”
I gulp, not even knowing what that means. “Luca…”
My voice comes out as a whimper. He drops another kiss on the inside of my knee, tracing a single finger down my slit. I writhe again, moaning.
“You don’t even know what you want,” he says, smiling wickedly. “You want it so badly, and yet…”
His touch goes back up to the top of my slit, and then he starts stroking it. Little, gentle touches. Kissing the inside of my other knee, taunting me.
I realize that my pussy aches to be touched. My clit actually throbs, but Luca keeps passing over it with his finger. Going around it.
He moves lower, getting his face closer to my pussy. He just keeps up his maddening, teasing strokes, kissing my inner thighs. He touches the skin near my entrance and I moan.
God, I want him to… to push his finger inside me. To do something to relieve this… this pressure that’s building around me.
But he just skims his finger away again. My presses his face next to my pussy, leaving kisses all around my pussy. When he surprises me with a fluttery kiss further back, on the tight balloon knot he finds there, I startle again.
“Luca!” I squeal.
But his kiss moves on, as if it never happened. And I’m left wondering if I’m supposed to feel hot all over at the very idea of him… licking my… my ass.
The next second though, he brushes his finger over my clit. I’m awash in sensation, too distracted by the newness of it to think of anything else. I’ve stroked my own clit of course but… this is very different.
“Look,” he whispers, biting his lower lip. “Look how wet you are for me. Look how much cream you made just from me touching your clit. I want to taste it, princess.”
He surprises me by brushing his tongue oh so gently over my clit. My eyes open wide and I let out this questioning ohhh sound that makes him chuckle against my flesh.
He licks it again, long and slow, making me drive my hands into his hair, making me forget that he’s my enemy. He alternates kisses and licks to my clit, working me into a lather. My back is arched, my head thrown back, my eyes are closed.
And sounds of pleasure pour out of my open mouth, mmms and ohhs and shocked gasps. All the while I’m climbing toward an unbearable peak, tortured and yet I want — no, I need — more. Something is going to happen, something big. I will shatter into a million tiny pieces or burst like a confetti filled balloon.
“Luca…” I find myself whispering, the word escaping me, unbidden. “Luca, I’m going—”
I never get to finish my sentence because I come so suddenly, almost violently, the orgasm reaching up and making my lower body buck like a wave. I shout something garbled and see a thousand colors, but it’s all so distant. Sort of like when you pop your ears and for just a second, every single sensation is just out of reach.
Without skipping a beat, Luca moves up my body, coming up to kiss me on the lips deeply and passionately. He’s naked, pressing himself flush against me, not even bothering to hide his arousal. I can feel it against my inner thigh, long and thick and impatient.
But for some reason when he spreads my legs again, spearing me with his dark gaze, and fists his cock… I’m a little surprised to feel the bulbous head push at my pussy entrance. My eyes widen and I make a soft sound of uncertainty.
But he ignores that. Instead he focuses on rubbing my clit with his fingers, staring down at me with a smoldering look. I’m absurdly sensitive still, so he starts gradually, brushing his fingers around my clit while pressing the head of his cock against my entrance. He does it for a minute, teasing me more and more as I start getting excited again.
Soon I am biting my lip and squirming, wondering just what his cock would feel like if he just pressed a little further inside my pussy. When I start to move to try to encourage him to do that though, he grins.
“Uh uh,” he says, shaking his head. “Not yet.”
Frustrated, I pout. “Don’t start what you can’t finish.”
Luca leans down to my bare breast, looking me in the eyes as he seals his lips over my nipple. He rolls it around with his tongue and then sucks on it, biting it very lightly. I can feel every lick and suck of my nipple like a line going straight to my pussy. Though Luca isn’t down there anymore, saying how wet I am, I am still aware of it.
I’m aware of little else, in fact.
He releases my breast from his mouth with a pop, grinning at my needy expression. “I’m fully fucking capable of finishing what I start. I just promised you that you were going to beg me to fuck you. And I do intend to live up to that promise.”
Luca pulls me closer, right where he wants me. I gasp, encouraging him by arching my back and thrusting my breasts further into his face.
His hot flesh presses against mine. I grab his hip, pulling him into the right position to penetrate me. The blunt head of his cock nudges my entrance, and I wrap my legs around his body, forcing us together.
He startles me by flipping me over, nudging my knees apart and repositioning himself there.
When he thrusts his cock inside me, I hiss. He pauses to make sure that he didn’t hurt me, but already I’m driving him onward, moving my body in time with his. I meet him thrust f
or thrust.
All I care about is the here and now, Luca’s breathing hard while his muscles ripple, pumping his body in and out. I’m right there with him the whole way, working my hips against his, crying out when he teases my nipple, tweaking it hard.
“Oh god, yes. Harder,” I moan. And Luca obliges, not just thrusting his hips harder but twisting my nipple with a fierce expression on his face.
It’s so good, but it’s not quite enough. I need a little more, though I do not know what. Luca seems to just know me, know what I need. He reaches up, weaving his fingers into my hair at the nape of my neck.
He tests me by gripping my hair for just a second. My eyes roll back in my head briefly and I whimper, feeling everything so much more sharply. The sting of pain just brings everything into focus for me.
He pulls my head back so that he can kiss my neck and nibble at my ear, all the while keeping up an insatiable, driving rhythm.
Somehow in all the mess, I gain a strange kind of clarity. My focus narrows down to what feels good: his thick cock filling up my pussy, stretching me out with every brutal stroke. The way the smooth cotton of the sheets rubs against my nipples, adding another layer of sensation to my overstimulated body.
My eyes roll up in the back of my head and I lose all connection with the world. There is nothing but sensation, no sound but my own labored breaths.
When I come, it feels like the orgasm is almost pulled out of my body, more an exorcism than anything else. And Luca just encourages it, pumping his own release into my body soon after mine.
He settles beside me, his breathing ragged. He stretches out and puts his hands behind his head. I turn onto my side, cooling down. My heartbeat still races as I eye Luca’s naked body.
Damp from perspiration and flushed from exertion, his body is something to behold. His arms are heavy ropes of muscle. His chest and abs are smoothly defined, pointing down to a perfectly chiseled vee at his hips. His long legs are toned…
And then there is his cock. Even now, still glistening from being inside me, it’s impressive; long and thick and perfectly pink.
“That was long overdue,” he rumbles. I look up at his face, perfectly sculpted cheekbones with a couple of days’ worth of stubble, that expressive mouth of his that causes no end of trouble. And his dark eyes, long lashes growing over them…
It was his eyes that really got all of this started.
“Hmm?” I ask absently.
He smirks at my distraction. “I mean, if we had just fucked when we first met, we wouldn’t have spent so many years hating each other.”
I shoot him a look, then sit up. “That’s debatable.”
When I start to move off the bed, he pulls me back with a growl. “Where are you going?”
I raise my brows. “To shower. And then probably to bed.”
He narrows his eyes. “What if I’m not done with you?”
I swallow and lick my lips. “This was nice, but—”
He makes a face. “It was a fucking lot more than nice and you know it.”
I roll my eyes. “Alright, it was really great. And yes, it was overdue. But now that we… let off tension, or whatever… it can’t happen again.”
Now it’s his turn to look surprised. “Is that right?”
He reaches out, skimming his hand down my naked hip. If I were being completely honest, the caress feels good. His hand is warm against my cooling skin. And it’s hard not to lean into that touch.
To be known by him. To be cherished, even if it’s only temporary.
But that’s what it is. My mouth twists and I pull away.
I know that there are other women he’s still enthralled with. I know that he married me by mistake and now he’s just going along with it because it’s easier. I know that this meant nothing to him. So it should mean nothing to me… right?
“I agreed to pretend to be your wife,” I say, standing up. “But I never agreed to be your… your temporary distraction.”
He looks confused. “What?”
“This?” I point between us. “That’s what this is. You’re still hung up on Madisyn, or Chloe, or whoever else. And I’m not interested in changing who I am to slip into the place that she left empty.”
He scowls. “It has nothing to do with anyone else. We just fucked because we needed to.”
I shake my head. “You are delusional if you think that this wasn’t a mistake. A one-time only slip up.” I find my dress, pulling it down over my head. “Not to be repeated.”
“You know, you are fucking hot,” he spits out. “It’s too bad you always open your mouth and ruin it with words.”
I laugh a little, rooting around on the floor for my panties. “Yeah, that’s not helping. That just reminds me of how much of a jerk you can be.”
“Go, then!” he hisses. “Go lie in your bed, alone. And when you’re horny, you can fucking masturbate about the time you were with me.” He looks furious. “That’s the only action you’ll get from me from now on.”
Giving up searching for my panties, I huff. “Fine!”
“Fine!” he says.
I storm out of his bedroom angrily, wishing that we had never laid eyes on each other all those years ago.
Chapter Nineteen
Luca
The next week of work is a nightmare. Missing liquor shipments, employees calling out sick at the last possible moment, artist’s managers being hard to touch base with.
But by far the worst thing is having to watch Cate running around my bar, showing absolutely zero signs of regret for what she said in my bedroom. It kills me to be this fucking stressed out and know that when I go home, she’ll still be there. And she’ll be fine.
Smiling at everyone else but me. Chatting with them, getting really comfortable in her new job as a bar back slash waitress.
It pisses me off to no end.
Even now, as I finish prepping some extra lemon and lime juice for Bradford at the end of a rush, I spend the entire time glaring at Cate.
I mean, who does she think she is? With her easy smile and her quick service, she’s becoming one of Bradford’s favorites. But she essentially ignores me and avoids me, which really fucking irritates me.
I’m the one paying her. She’s living in my house. It’s only a few weeks until Madisyn’s wedding but I’m seriously considering just giving Cate her money and having my lawyer file for the annulment sooner than planned.
“Hey!” Bradford says, snapping his fingers. “You are bruising all the oranges!”
I look down at the crate of citrus I’m holding and realize that he’s right. I’ve been pressing the lid down on the crate and staring off into space for a few minutes.
“Sorry,” I say with a shrug. “It’s been one of those weeks.”
Bradford frowns and takes the crate out of my hands. “You don’t have to take it out on the innocent citrus fruit. They didn’t put your panties in a twist.”
I roll my eyes. “Is there anything else you need me to do?”
He purses his lips, giving me a once over. “We’re almost out of chai-infused shrub but honey… maybe you should just go home. We’re at the end of the rush anyway.”
I glare at him. “You’re telling me to go home now?”
He crosses his arms, looking at the crowd skeptically. “I have no idea what exactly has crawled up your ass. I can only assume it has something to do with your wife. But honestly, I’d rather deal with being in the weeds alone than put up with your huffing and moping for another second.”
That sets me back for a second. Bradford is usually so cheerful. He is the last person on the staff to hassle anyone unless he thinks they’re intentionally being lazy or unhelpful.
Before I can formulate exactly what I’m going to say, the front door. of the Attic opens. I turn, expecting it to be more bar flies.
But I freeze when I see my mother and father breeze through the door. They are dressed eccentrically, like a wealthy and dapper couple straight out of the 1950s
. My mom is in a dark grey coat with a pink dress peeping out of the bottom. My father takes off his hat, his dark suit and dark overcoat making him look like Cary Grant.
“Shit,” I mutter. “This is not what I need right now.”
My father looks around with a scowl while my mother just looks confused; my mother has had so much Botox in the last few years that she can’t frown anymore.
The sourness in the pit of my stomach turns to acid.
Bradford straightens when he sees my parents. “Hey, isn’t that your mom and dad?”
My father spots me, making me clear my throat nervously. I nod.
“Yeah.” I look at Bradford. “I didn’t expect them, and yet… here they are. In my bar, which they hate.”
As my parents approach me, I hurry out to catch them before they hit the bar. “Mom!” I say, bending to kiss her on the cheek. She accepts my kiss, patting my arm.
“Hello, Luca dear. I see you’ve still got this old place.” She turns her nose up at the patrons milling around her, smiling vaguely. “Would you be a darling and get me a gin martini? The ride here was dreadful and now I find myself a bit parched.”
I force a smile. My mother is rarely without a drink. It’s always been that way. “Of course.”
My father extends his hand. “Son.”
I take his hand, shaking it firmly. As usual, he turns it into a show of strength, squeezing my hand so hard that my fingers turn white. It’s important that I don’t react, though. I learned that very early on.
“Dad,” I greet him simply.
He looks around at the now-empty stage and the slowly dispersing crowd. “It’s too bad about this place. Really solid idea, I suppose. But maybe your next venture will pan out.”
His analysis sets my teeth on edge. “We’re doing just fine here, Dad.”
He looks at me, an air of puzzlement surrounding him. “Oh? Well you wouldn’t know it. Maybe we are just used to something different. You know, we’ve been on the Continent for so long now, spending our days at sea and our nights in establishments that are more…” He sniffs, casting a glance at the crowd. “Elegant.”
