Page 80 of Spotlight Hearts

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he says quietly.

“You didn’t,” I mumble.

He snorts softly. “Bullshit.”

My fingers curl into the front of his shirt. “Maybe I deserved a little of it.”

He tips his head back against the pillow and studies me for a long moment.

“You never deserve that from me,” he says.

There’s something steady in his voice now. Certain. His thumb brushes across my temple again.

“I lost my temper,” he continues.

A faint smile tugs at his mouth.

“But hurting you?” He shakes his head slightly. “Not the plan.”

The warmth in my chest aches. I shift so I’m looking at him properly now, our faces only inches apart.

I lick my lips. “There was more pleasure than pain. And uh, I liked it.”

Luca’s eyes darken again. Surprise and heat combine in his gaze, and his thumb pauses on my temple for a second, then resumes its slow, soothing stroke. The anger from before is slowly bleeding away.

“You liked it,” he repeats, voice low and rough around the edges. “Even when I was pissed off and rough with you?”

I nod, heat creeping up my neck. “Yeah. I did. And I deserved it.”

He lets out a slow breath, his hand sliding down to rest at the back of my neck again, fingers gently massaging the tense muscles there. The touch is careful now, almost tender, like he’s trying to make up for the roughness from earlier.

Then he makes a soft, disapproving sound and presses a kiss to the top of my head.

“You don’t deserve to be hurt,” he says firmly, repeating himself. “Not by me. Not by anyone.”

The warmth in his voice makes my chest ache in the best way. I shift slightly, nuzzling closer to his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of him.

We lie there for a long moment, the plane humming steadily around us. His fingers keep moving, slow circles on my neck, gentle strokes down my spine, like he can’t stop touching me. And he needs the contact to believe I’m really here.

“I missed you,” I admit quietly. “These last ten days… they sucked.”

Luca’s hand stills for a second, then resumes its path down my back.

“Yeah,” he says, voice rough. “They did.”

TWENTY-FOUR

LUCA

The plane lands with a jolt, wheels hitting the runway and rumbling beneath us. I wake up alone in the small bed, the sheets still warm where Kai had been curled against me.

For a second, I just lie there, blinking at the ceiling, heart thudding.

Did that really happen?

The anger, the rough desperate sex against the door, the way I fucked him hard while telling him I’d make him as raw as he made me… then the quiet after, when I pulled him into this bed and held him like he might vanish if I let go.

It feels like a fever dream. Like something my exhausted, hurt brain made up just to torture me.