desire. I want everything he has to give and I won’t stand for those moments being marred by inevitable hardships. For once, darkness can wait until tomorrow.
“Please, Luca.” I tug him forward by the edge of his towel.
He releases an agonizing groan, his restraint increasing my pulse.
That’s the part of him I enjoy the most—his discipline.
He’s much more of a man than I’ve ever experienced. So much so that I find myself lowering, about to fall to my knees to perform an act I’ve never willingly given before.
“What the fuck?” His hands lash out, one grabbing my upper arm to keep me from sinking farther, the other grasping my chin.
“I want to do this for you.” It’s the truth. I’m curious. And maybe a little sadistic, too. Or even self-sabotaging, waiting for him to disappoint me. But at least I’m doing this of my own free will. It’s my choice. Nobody else’s.
“Like hell.” His nostrils flare as he glares. “Get off your fucking knees. Now.”
His vehemence shocks me, his grip unflinching until I rise to stand before him.
“You will never kneel before a man ever again.” His breathing increases, his chest rapidly rising and falling. “Do you hear me?”
I open my mouth, but words fail me.
“Never,” he growls. “From now on, Pen, you take your fucking place on a pedestal. There’s no servitude. No fucking selflessness.”
“But what if I want—”
“Then you find another fucking way. Do you understand? As long as I live, no man will ever look down on you like that again.”
He renders me speechless and grabs my hips, lifting me to sit on the vanity.
I’m stripped bare of response as he falls to his knees before me, his rough hands sliding along my thighs to grip the side of my ass still covered in the bulking T-shirt.
“What are you doing?” I can’t stop the stupid question escaping my lips. I blame it on the adrenaline rushing through me. The complete madness filling me with power. He elevates me to some sort of godly status, the reversal of our positions making my belly flip and tumble.
I’ve always been the servant. The slave.
Now I’m his master, growing more empowered by the leashed hunger in his eyes.
“Tell me you want this.” He gently parts my legs, slowly inching forward, placing one gentle kiss after another along the flaming-hot skin of my inner thighs. “Or tell me to stop.”
I can’t imagine wanting anything else. For a moment, I’m so caught up in needing to be closer that I wonder if this was what it was like for Luther all along.
Did he crave me this way?
Was his desire for me as uncontrollable as mine for Luca?
Did his heart pound and throat tighten? Did his palms sweat and limbs shake? Is that why he stole me—because he was compelled?
“Don’t go back there,” Luca murmurs against my skin. “Stay with me.”
I lick my lips, trying to wipe away the dryness. “I’m trying.”
“What’s stopping you?” He pauses the gentle kisses and pulls back an inch.
“Oh, God. I’m beginning to second guess if this is natural. Maybe there’s something wrong with me.”
His eyes narrow. “Whatever you feel is natural. If you want to keep going. If you want to stop. Even if you change your mind every five seconds. It’s all normal.”
He’s right. It’s natural. I guess I asked the wrong question. “What I meant is, is this healthy? Do I want you like this because I’m sick?”
He doesn’t speak for long moments, the silence making my pulse beat faster. Is he about to give evidence to my growing instability?
Those lips press back against my inner thigh, his gaze remaining locked on mine as he says, “I wondered the same thing after what happened last night. But you said it yourself—this is nothing like what you experienced. It’s the exact opposite. And after everything you’ve been through, I can’t think of anything that’s healthier, or that shows more strength, or trust, or more commitment to healing, than a woman wanting to gain pleasure from a man who adores her.”
An ache builds behind my sternum. There’s so much pain.
Good pain.
Restorative pain.
I drag in a breath, filling my lungs to capacity. “I love you, Luc.”
His eyes flare, shock bleeding across his features before he bows his head into my legs, not saying a word.
“Luca?” The agony builds. “I’m sorry, I…”
“Don’t be sorry.” He raises his face again, staring back at me with ferocity. “You know I love you, too, shorty. I’d fucking kill for you.”