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I skimmed my fingers over the underside of her breast, loving the way she shivered deliciously at my touch.

“Take your nightie off,” I ordered.

She didn’t waste time stripping for me.

The shock of white against her tanned skin had me looking down to see lace bikini underwear covering her mound.

I could see the dark thatch of hair underneath the lace, and my fingers itched to rip the delicate material away so I could see what lay under it more clearly.

She squirmed underneath my gaze, and I finally allowed my gaze to skim up the rest of her body.

She had a flat belly. Hell, she almost had abs.

“You’ve always had these?” I asked, outlining the small muscles of her belly.

She shook her head.

“No, those are all yours.” She laughed. “I’ve usually had more of a belly on me, but over the last two years, I have to admit I haven’t really eaten the best—or at all at times.” She bit her lip when my face went thunderous. “But you came back, and I started eating again. Healthy even. And then we started running together… God, all I wanted was to spend time with you. Even if I had to torture myself to do it.”

I grinned wickedly.

I liked that she wanted to spend time with me. I liked it even more that she’d do something she didn’t want to do to accomplish it.

Her hands smoothed down my bare chest, her fingers lingering on my nipples.

She swept one palm over my left one, before repeating the process on my right.

My breathing clogged my throat as I choked on air.

She grinned at my reaction.

“You used to like that,” she whispered. “I tried to pinch your nipples once, and you freaked out so bad. You said they were really sensitive.”

I didn’t know if that was the case anymore.

To be honest, I didn’t know if anything was all that sensitive thanks to the multitude of scars.

But it was more than obvious that my nipples were indeed sensitive.

“What else did I like?” I asked, catching one of her hands and bringing her fingers up to my mouth.

Her eyes went wide when I pulled one of her fingers into my mouth and sucked on it.

“Uhhh.” She drew a deep breath. “Y-you… well… you liked it when I kissed you… there.”

She pressed her free hand against my nipple again.

“I liked your tongue on me?” I grunted out a laugh. “Now that’s surprising…”

She drew her fingernails down the length of my chest, her fingers bumping over the ridged scars as she did.

She didn’t flinch, and neither did I.

My scars were still very sensitive, but anything that Frankie ended up doing to me? It wasn’t wrong. It didn’t hurt.

It felt… right.

“Then do it,” I suggested. “Put your tongue on me.”

She did an ab curl and went up onto one elbow, pressing her lips to the middle of my sternum before going even farther to my nipple.

She swirled her tongue around the engorged tip, then bit down lightly on the very peak.

I cursed and clenched my hand onto hers, then drew her finger back into my mouth to suck on it.

I needed something to focus on or I was going to lose control.

Hell, I was already halfway there, just by what she was doing with her mouth and the way she felt underneath me.

When she popped off one side and moved to the other, I moved, too, refusing to allow her to go any further.

“Lie back and slide those panties off,” I ordered.

Her eyes stayed glued to mine as she did what I asked, lying back carefully and then oh so slowly pushing her panties down her thighs.

When she got them to her calves, I took over for her and pulled them the rest of the way off her body.

Once they were in my hand, I brought them up to my face and inhaled deeply.

Her mouth fell open in surprise.

“Luca,” she whispered, scandalized.

I grinned and gave it one more whiff before gently placing them on the bed beside her.

Her eyes went wide when I descended the length of her body, coming to a stop with my shoulders roughly pushing her thighs apart and making room for my body.

She widened her legs as far as she was capable, but still left her pussy covered with her hand.

I loved the timidity.

I loved even more that she was still modest.

Even more, I loved that she was mine.

“Move your hand, baby,” I growled.

She did, reluctantly.

And the sight that was before me once she’d moved left me fighting for breath.

God, she was perfect.

Her pussy lips were puffy and wet. Her entrance was small and tight.

And the little bud of her clit was poking out from underneath the hood as if waiting for my touch.

She had hair, too.

I loved that she had hair.

I loved even more that she was staring at me with love in her eyes.

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