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“You are so fucking sexy, you know that, right?” Luca says tenderly, sweeping his other hand up to run his finger along the top of my glasses. “I seriously can't get enough of you.”
“Then don't try,” I reply quietly.
Sparks scatter across my skin at his intense gaze, pleasure making itself at home inside me. I can practically feel heat coursing from him.
“I don't want to. Ever,” he sighs softly. “It seriously blows my mind that you keep getting hotter every time I see you.”
It's when he says things like this that I hope he really wants a future together, that I'm not just a visitor in his life that will one day be a memory. I told him to give me a chance four months ago; I asked him to try, and he said yes, and he’s still saying yes now.
He bends down to steal my lips again, happiness lighting me from the inside. If I could only do one thing for the rest of my life, it would be kissing Luca, or cuddling Luca, or fucking Luca. Simply being with Luca is enough.
His hands slide to my thighs, pushing the apron up to my hips. I'm sure he wants easy access, and I want to help. Hooking my fingers around the hem of my apron, I lift it up to my stomach, excitement buzzing through me as I reveal my grey sweats, my cock tenting the material.
“Fuck, Thorn. You're already this hard for me?”
I want to tell him ‘of course I am’, that there’s no way I wouldn’t be turned on, but my blush spreads up to my ears, and I bite my lip shyly instead. I shouldn’t be embarrassed. We spend every evening together when he’s in London, but it’s the way he looks so hungry, so pleased that I’m responding to him. I’ve never told him it’s always been more difficult for me not to respond to him, that even being in the same room as him sets my body alight.
“Come here, Luca.” I drop the apron and it catches on my cock, bunched up around my hips. I’m glad he can see how much I want him. I reach out a hand, sighing gently as my muscles relax. “Let me feel you too.”
I’m so aware of him with me, in my space. The oven hums around us; the ticking of the clock to my left sets a faint beat in the background. Though my kitchen is thin, the windows at both ends of the room spread light around the room, highlighting every fine detail of him as he shudders against me.
His hand joins mine, both of us entranced as he runs his thin pale fingers over my thick ones, slotting them together: a perfect fit.
“I don’t know what I want more,” he says softly, turning his gaze back to me. “To hear you talk or to kiss you. Just looking at you like this is driving me fucking wild.” He chuckles as he presses the centre of my glasses, running down the line of my nose before his hand rests on my collarbone and bites his lip. “What do you prefer?”
“Hmm, it's too hard to decide.” I blink, tilting my head, seriously contemplating his question even though he’s simply flirting. “I want all of you.” I murmur as I lift my hand up to cup his cheek, my thumb sweeping the corner of his smooth smile. “I never want to leave you,”
He stills over me, his breath caught in his throat as he meets my sincerity with a look of surprise. At least, I hope it’s surprise. I don’t know how I would stand it if it was disappointment or disgust.
He does this whenever I come close to telling him how I really feel. Sometimes I forget myself, forget how terrifying it is to confess how much I want him after years of silence. I want to tell him so badly that I love him, that I've loved him for so long that I don't remember what it's like not to love him. It's these slight pauses that hold me back.
“So kiss me,” I say, encouraging him to return. I just hope I didn't get it wrong. I don't want him to struggle or make him uncomfortable because I push my feelings onto him.
But, I hope if I wait long enough, he might fall in love with me too.
Even if Luca just wants someone to hold him, I can be that for him. If it means I can stay with him like this, I'll do what I can to make him happy.
I bring him closer, and he comes willingly as we sink into our kiss again. Every time I touch him, it’s like I become whole, as if I'm dust flying around a room, only settling when he’s with me.
As we kiss, I release his cheek and sweep my hand downwards, finding his nipple, pressing hard, tasting his high moan. His fingers clench in mine, and I hold on tight. I’ll never let him go if that’s what he wants.
I move from his nipple, luxuriating in the delicate curve of his waist as I reach for the button of his jeans. I’m too caught in the storm of Luca’s kisses to do anything but fumble. I want his cock as much as his lips.
Twitching as he slides his hand through my hair, I tilt my head back so he can kiss me more deeply. There’s so much happening; soft frantic kisses, the tight squeeze of my hair, Luca’s gasps as I press against his cock through his jeans. All that combined with the low hum of the oven, the rich smell of food, and my struggle to pop the button.
I try to concentrate, but the moment the button frees from its clasp, I give in and let Luca lead us. He takes care of me when I’m overwhelmed, though I’m sure he doesn’t know it. I’m practising staying with him even when it becomes too much. If I don’t fight it, if I let all the sensations flow over me, then Luca’s presence soothes me.
I moan against his lips, keeping him close, spreading my legs so he can step nearer. Though Luca has other plans.
He pulls back from the kiss, both of us melting at the sheer joy of touching each other. I hope we never stop, that it will always be so wild and fresh, like a storm in the springtime.
I've tasted every inch of his skin since we first made love, and Luca's smile makes me want to taste him again and again. I'll cover his body so my lips permanently imprint on his skin like the freckles I adore.
He sighs faintly as his fingers break from mine, returning to my thigh. “You look so fucking sexy when you’re needy,” he murmurs.
This time, the stroke of his nails doesn’t stop at the crease of my hip. Instead, his hand brushes inward, a single finger outlining the shape of my cock.
Eyelids fluttering, familiar pleasure tremors through me as I attempt to widen my knees, offering myself to him. My hips shift forward on the chair, and I fall into his beautiful strokes. He looks as obsessed with me as I am with him, as if his mission in life is to make me collapse. All his focus is on me, and it turns me on even more.
