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I wish I could stop blushing so much.
“And you,” Zia rounds on me, pinching at my collarbone in a way that’s sharp but still affectionate somehow. “Need to eat more. It’s a good thing you are here! Sit, sit!”
I lower myself into the seat as asked.
I lose track of the courses that are brought out to us. Each one even more delicious than the last. Just when I feel like I’m going to pop from the food, something else even more tempting comes out. I can’t even pick a favorite.
“You got me this stunning dress and I’m not going to be able to fit inside of it for much longer.” I laugh as I lean over the table between courses.
“I can tell her to stop?” Luca offers.
“I feel like that would offend her!”
“Of course it would.”
He says it so simply. I gape at him. If he agrees that she will be offended then there is no solution to be had! I blink at him, waiting for him to say something else.
“I suppose I could help you out of the dress, if you think that will make it better?” Luca offers with an air of faux innocence.
“How will that help anything?!”
“It will help me.” Luca shrugs.
I’m sorely tempted to kick him under the table for being so disgusting. “And what would your aunt say?!”
“Great aunt.” Luca grins and pours me a little bit more wine. “She’s my mother’s mother’s sister. I met her officially at my mother’s funeral. If you can call the small burial that Enzo allowed me to have for her a funeral. She didn’t even know that I existed before that.”
“...I’m sorry.” It hurts me to think of what his childhood must have been like. To have nobody and nothing precious to him but his mother. To have Enzo as a father. To have a whole family living so close to him here in the city and never even know it. Somebody as warm and clearly as loving as Zia would have shaped the person that he was into something other than the man sitting in front of me.
Luca shrugs. “I have her now.” his eyes flick up to me. “And you do too.”
I rise from my seat, absorbed in the moment with him and move to his chair. Luca scoots back, the legs of the chair scraping across the floor to make room for me between him and the table. I gather the fabric of my skirt in my hands to expose my bare legs as I straddle him. I feel Luca make a gesture with his hands to empty out the room.
The men that he had guarding the doors will now wait outside and keep everybody out so that we will have our privacy.
Luca leans back in his chair, his arms resting on my thighs softly as he looks up at me. I can’t tell if he’s feeling the same overwhelming surge of closeness as I am, but from the look in his eyes I think he must be.
The tips of my fingers trail over his forehead, over the shell of his ear and into his hair as my thighs spread further to bring myself closer to him. No doubt I’m going to make a mess of the front of his trousers, but I’m not going to apologize for that either.
His palms caress the muscles of my thigh, climbing higher until he can round the curve of my bare ass and grip onto my hips. He rounds my hips down and pulls me forward, grinding me against the considerable bulge growing in his pants.
I don’t think that I’m ever going to get used to the feeling of him like this.
Having such a powerful man at my total mercy like this? It’s every bit of an ego trip.
“So, do I take this to mean that you are enjoying the date?” Luca muttered, his voice deepening as his chin lifts to look at me.
“Mmm, not as much as you, I think.” I roll my hips down into him once again.
Luca merely grins. Something darkens in his gaze that fills my core with heat.
“What was that about devouring me for dinner?” I ask as his hands slide up the slim space between my dress and the skin of my waist. I reach behind me to grip the table and push everything back away from where we sit to give us room to move as we wish. His head drops to the exposed skin between my breasts as I lean back. My back arches to give him the most access to my skin as he can possibly get.
His tongue lavishes against every bit of skin that he can reach. Kissing and nibbling at the exposed flesh until I’m practically gasping for him to move my dress to the side.
It’s like he can read my mind. Or, to the very least, he’s been learning the best ways to read my body over the time that we’ve spent together. His nose pushes the fabric to the sides of my breasts, framing them and pushing them slightly together as his hands move lower again. His teeth capture my peaked nipple, biting down onto the skin in a way that makes me gasp.
Bastard.
