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Or hurting myself.
“Don’t be. Let me take any burns I get for being with you. It’s worth it.”
I wiggled in his grip. “I still don’t want it to happen.”
“You can’t control the future and neither can I.”
I puffed my cheeks petulantly. “Sorry,” I whispered, shame burning bright through me.
What had I done to deserve a man like Luca Marino?
Not a fucking thing.
And that was the problem. I knew it; he had to know it, too.
He tipped my chin up, his hand resting over my throat with just enough squeeze to get my attention. “If you’re with me, you’re with me. Don’t disappear into your head. Be here.”
“I’m here.” I stared up at him, waiting to see what he would do.
He slid easily into me, letting the backs of my thighs rest against his stomach, propping my ankles on his shoulders.
I couldn’t help but think of my heat even though it was still weeks away. Luca would be here with me for days, tending to my every need, pushing himself to the limit. My body tensed with the first curls of pleasure bursting when the head of his cock struck inside.
I whispered his name, straining and shaking as he hovered me at the edge. He gripped both of my ankles, holding them in front of him with one hand, dipping the other to tease my clit. The new angle had me melting, the sound of him undoing me lost as I turned and bit one of the pillows.
He could manhandle me as easily as an alpha and proved it once more when he got my ankles back on his shoulders before bending over me. Every thrust choked off the air in my throat. His mouth descended to mine as his hips worked me into a fever pitch. Each time I was with him, he was a little smoother, learning the details of my body and desires, determined to give me everything I craved.
“Eyes on me.”
It shouldn’t have been as difficult as it was to lock gazes with him. Those eyes were like molten chocolate: hot, silky, and dangerous.
“Good girl. Now, you’re going to come for me.”
I shuddered as he ground his thumb into my clit, the burn spreading like electricity through my body before he started working it with smooth strokes. My pussy squeezed around him, helplessly clenching as he drove me to the cliffside. I tripped messily over the edge, my throat suddenly ragged, slick dripping down my ass and his thighs as he played me like a fucking violin.
While I lay sated and melting in my nest, Luca followed with a handful of thrusts before our hips met and stayed that way. The slow grind of his body teased my clit and sent fresh shockwaves through my twitching muscles.
Luca released my throat and maneuvered us so that he was on the bottom and I was sprawled out on top of him, his cock still tucked inside me. He toyed with the end of my curls until I had enough energy to kiss that stupidly perfect mouth.
“Mood improved?” he asked playfully.
My mood was still a mess, but I was definitely satisfied, so instead I said, “I feel a bit better.”
Pleasure simmered in my blood, leaving me languid atop him. I was too fucking comfortable. Had I ever been comfortable with a lover before? No. Clients and heat helpers didn’t count, and the ones I had chosen for myself on other occasions couldn’t hold a candle to Luca in that department.
The man was too fucking thoughtful.
And I was too fucking doomed.
My feet were going to fall off. I had a whole new level of respect for Jasper after only a few hours in the bakery. He, Yan, and Rita were like a well-oiled machine with a frankly frightening level of military precision. They knew the routine, and at some point it felt like the best thing I could do was simply get out of the way.
Jasper kept me by his side, ordering me like a drill sergeant. I didn’t take it personally. With the amount of burning hot items and sharp implements floating around, he needed to run a tight ship. I followed the muffin recipe he gave me meticulously, grateful that my main job today was something I had a decent amount of experience with. The machines made it easy, and the recipes included the exact amount of time to mix the batter, but Jasper still checked on me with his hawk eyes.
Tiny adjustments were made to accommodate for the humidity that day and my appreciation grew again. I was well aware that baking was a science as much as it could be an art, but I had never thought of it to this degree before.
“How are you doing?” Jasper asked. He was hard at work on a catering order while I was tasked with basic stock for the day.
“Um, keeping my head above water, I think?”
