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He found himself shifting closer. Just a bit closer.
She squeezed her eyes shut as she finished the sentence. “I was considering staying. Seeing if I could fix things… if you accepted me.” She opened her eyes and peered at him.
Oh.
He watched her with newfound interest. She pressed her hand over her mouth, holding back some emotion before her hand dropped into a fist at her side. Her fingers flexed together, concentrating her tension into a physical ball.
“It doesn’t matter anyway because I lied to you. I ruined everything,” she said candidly. “At this point, I don’t know what to do.”
He was silent.
And then she said, “I would literally get on my knees if that would somehow make it better, but—”
Was that an option?
“Yes,” he immediately said.
His judgment caught up with him the moment the word left his mouth, but the shock on Lucca’s face faded as quickly as it appeared and then she—he couldn’t believe his eyes—lowered to her fucking knees.
He was stunned.
Was it that simple? Truly?
“Like this? Is this what you want?” Her plaintive voice stirred something insidious inside him. Some intangible shadow that began in dreams. Now it was mirrored back from her fathomless eyes, calling to him.
He should have told her to stand up and he should have said that her words were enough. He should have admitted that he was as responsible for this misunderstanding as she was… but he didn’twantto.
She was on her knees and he didn’t want her to get up.
“Would this make you believe I was sorry?”
“Not if you say it like that,” he said, his voice low and scratchy.
He heard her short inhale. When she opened her mouth, sincerity colored her voice, deep, dark eyes shining up at him, completely open.
“I’m so sorry, Caligher. You’re important to me, and I hate that I lied to you. If I knew how to make it right, I would.” Her voice turned a touch quieter as she added, “I would do anything.”
Falling silent, she waited for his response. She wouldn’t move until he said something. She’d stay on her knees.
It was a hell of a lot of power to wield over another person. It washed over him in a heady rush, giving life to things he’d tried not to want.
“Come here, Lucca.”
Swallowing hard, she pushed her palms to the floor to stand.
“On your knees,” he added more sharply.
To his unholy amazement, she crawled forward until she was within reach. A flood of arousal surged through his veins. The air grew sharp and electric—his signals permeating it—and he watched the effect on Lucca.
Her breath hitched as her lips slipped open. Parts of her body transformed in response to his signals. Tense muscles, shallow breathing, a clenching, little stomach. The tips of her breasts peaked through her suit. That primal core of his brain that understood sex had no trouble interpreting the sight before him.
He touched her chin.
Her skin was extremely delicate. Warm and soft and pliable. Tilting her face, he was met by rich brown, simmering irises.
“Will you forgive me?” she asked quietly, holding his gaze.
“Not yet,” he said, tracing his thumb over her unfathomably soft lower lip. He wondered what her mouth would feel like against his. And her breath, and sounds of pleasure.
