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I don't know what I expected.
Maybe for him to ask if everything was okay. Or why I was there. Or if I needed something.
The last one would have been an easy answer.
You.
I need you.
But he said nothing as his eyes held my gaze for a long moment—searching, seeming to find answers.
He said nothing.
He just moved out of the way of the door, a silent invitation in.
And I just as silently moved inward.
The space was dark save for the light streaming in from the windows, and I got this strange surge of anticipation over the fact that he didn't even have blinds or curtains should I want them drawn.
Curious onlookers down by the water's edge who turned to look up could see right in.
Intrigued by that idea, I moved forward toward the windows, stopping to look down at the reflection of the moon on the gentle waves, feeling a small bit of calm settling over me.
I sensed him before I heard him, before I felt him. His body moved in behind mine, and I could feel the heat through my robe.
There was nothing for a long moment.
Just the two of us staring off out the window.
Still, my need tripped into overdrive, making me press my thighs tightly together, trying to find some relief.
His hand slid in at my waist then, finding the knot of my robe, releasing it, making the material fall open in the front, baring me up my center, the cool air of the room making goosebumps prickle up over my skin.
Those same fingers traced up the edge of the material, tips grazing my skin ever so slightly.
This time, it wasn't the cold that made the goosebumps spread. Oh, not. This time, it was the heat.
At my neck, his fingers grabbed the material, drawing it backward enough to expose my entire shoulder.
His lips pressed down on the bare skin, sending a shiver through my body, making me lean back, my head falling on his shoulder as his other hand yanked the other shoulder free, allowing the material to fall down between our bodies.
My back pressed against his chest and stomach, my hips wiggling back into his hips, feeling his cock straining against his pants.
A low, rumbling noise vibrated out of Luca's chest, reverberated into my body.
Liking that sound, my hips did another wiggle, this time shifting enough to feel him at the apex of my thighs, making a whimper of mine drown out his growl.
Whatever control he'd had over himself snapped at the sound, his hands shifting downward, closing over my breasts, squeezing until I whimpered once again, then taking my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, rolling them.
Both hands released my breasts, one moving up, snagging my chin, pulling it over my shoulder so his lips could claim mine. Hard. Hungry. Bruising.
His other hand slid down my belly, slipped between my thighs, found my clit, started working in slow, hard circles, nearly stealing all the strength from my legs instantly.
But before my body could start to build up, his hand left me, his lips ripped from mine. Then, suddenly, I was turned, pressed back against the cold glass.
Luca went down on his knees, grabbing my knee, lifting it up over his shoulder, his tongue tracing up my cleft, continuing the torment his fingers had started.
My hand moved down, slipping into the silky strands of his hair, holding him against me as though he had any intentions of slowing, of stopping.
