“Luca?” I rasp, staring up at him with heavy-lidded eyes.
He commands my body, and within seconds, he has me pressed against the cold shower wall, my legs wrapped around him as he lifts me and steadies me, thrusting inside my warmth.
“Fuck,” I groan as he fills me. He’s not sweet and slow, but it’s as though he knows what I need.
My fingernails claw at his skin, holding him close, marking him, claiming him as he takes me.
With each thrust, I match his intensity, my hips meeting his, and the air is sucked from my lungs as I gasp for breath. The heat of the bathroom is stifling, but I don’t care. My head is in a fog.
The only thing that matters in this moment is Luca.
My pussy walls clench and squeeze onto his cock, keeping him tight, refusing to release my hold on his shaft as his hips move against mine, my back flush with the cold shower wall.
I shiver and Luca intensifies the pace. I tighten my grip, not wanting to fall, my insides shuddering as his breaths and groans against my ear make my toes curl.
His hands grip my thighs, determined and possessive; he knows exactly what I crave before I even realize what I need.
Luca keeps thrusting, our bodies tangled as his tight hold grounds me, as I feel every sensation and ripple course through my body. Every movement is laced with urgency, his name tangled on my tongue as the world outside the bathroom blurs into nothing. It’s exactly what I need, the desire I crave more than anything.
He makes me forget the pain, the heartache, the emotional trauma that’s ripped me apart and scarred me.
I killed—the thought vanishes as his fingers slip between us and he touches my clit while his cock is buried deep inside of me.
I grip his forearm, my insides ready to explode, and his mouth is on mine, silencing me.
I tremble, and my pussy walls spasm as he shoves his tongue past my lips. It’s rough and primal, exactly what I need to dull the sorrow that I’m now bound to.
Luca keeps me silent as I come, my moan swallowed by his guttural sounds and the pulse-pounding water at his back.
Quivering, he keeps the same rhythm until I break apart our kiss, coming up for air, burying my forehead against his shoulder.
He’s gasping for breath, and slowly, I slide my legs down to stand, but he makes sure I’m steady before releasing his grasp on me. He lets go for a split second, long enough to shut off the water, which has run cool.
The calmness that Luca exudes slowly dissipates around me as the reality of the current situation assaults me.
I wrap a clean, fluffy towel around myself, pulling it tighter as I step out of the shower.
Luca shuts off the shower, and just as my legs give way, his arms are around my waist, holding me tight. “We’ll get through this,” he whispers against my forehead.
I don’t know how.
There’s a dead body on the other side of that bathroom door.
I shiver, and Luca grabs his clean towel, drying my hair, using it to warm me instead of looking after himself. “Luca.” My teeth chatter and he kisses my cheek and quickly dries himself off with the towel that has to be damp at this point.
He helps me into the pajamas he brought me, an oversized t-shirt and a pair of sweats, before leaning me against the sink, my back to the mirror.
Luca quickly pulls his clothes on and then sweeps me off my feet.
“What are you doing?”
“Carrying you to bed.”
He opens the bathroom door, the steam filling the hallway, and I shut my eyes and rest my head against Luca’s chest, avoiding the sight of the deceased’s body as he carries me to our bedroom.
“Luca,” Dante’s voice breaks me from the darkness, and my eyes flash open, staring at my father-in-law. “Put her down. I need a word with your wife.”
“It’s okay,” I say, resting a hand over Luca’s heart as he slowly plants my feet on the ground outside the bedroom door, away from the blood.
