Page 181 of Mine Again
“Your fingers sliding lower, stroking yourself like you were imagining it was me. And your face when you came… like youknewI was there.”
I shift slightly, the robe suddenly too warm, the pressure between my legs too insistent.
“You should have seen me,” he growls softly. “I was gripping the desk so hard my knuckles went white. Sometimes I succumbed to your temptation and jerked off like a bloody teenager. Other times, I didn’t.I waited. Watched. Burned.”
His mouth lowers to my ear.
“Torturing myself watching you torture me.”
My hand moves on its own now, stroking him through the denim, his thick length twitching beneath my touch. My voice is husky now.
“I wasn’t trying to torture you.”
“No?” he asks, tone full of wicked disbelief.
“I was trying to provoke you. To come for me. To claim me back. Or at least give me a sign you were still there… still wanting me.”
His hand tightens around my fingers, holding them still against his cock.
“Farfalla,I never stopped,” he says, eyes on mine, brimming with need and something deeper. “Ialwayswant you. Only you.”
My thighs shift on instinct, the sensitivity from last night flaring to life again. I bite my bottom lip as a quiet moan escapes me, my body already begging for more, shameless in its response.
His mouth finds mine before I can speak, capturing my lips in a kiss that’s anything but gentle. It’s heat and hunger and every restless thought he’s ever had about me pressed into one. His tongue parts my lips, demanding, devouring, leaving no room for doubt or air.
My fingers fist the fabric of his shirt. I melt into him, the desk cool beneath me, the robe sliding open just enough to expose my thigh. His hands are everywhere. One tangles in my hair, the other sliding up my ribs beneath the robe, rough palm skimming the curve of my breast.
I gasp into his mouth when his thumb brushes over my nipple. It tightens instantly, the ache spreading like wildfire through my chest, straight down to where I’m already throbbing for him.
He groans low in his throat, like the sound is torn from somewhere deep.
“I missed this,” he mutters against my mouth. “The way you respond to me… like you were made for it.”
His hand cups my breast more firmly now, fingers teasing the sensitive peak. Each lazy, circling touch pulls another flicker of heat to the surface. My body arches into him, chasing every bit of contact,desperate for more even as my soreness distracts me with every movement.
It’s too much. Too soon. And yet, not enough.
I tear my mouth away, breathing hard.
“Luca…” I press a hand to his chest, not to push him away exactly, but to slow the storm we’re both tumbling into.
He stills immediately, eyes searching mine.
“I want to,” I whisper, “but I really am sore. You were very… thorough.”
His lips twitch into something dangerously close to a smirk, but he steps back, reluctantly giving me room. I hop off the desk with a wince and a grin, fanning the robe against my overheated skin.
The air hits my thighs and neck, a welcome relief, but it does little to calm the throbbing he’s left behind.
I turn away from him, needing a second to think.
“So this is the heart of your empire,” I say, looking around, deliberately avoiding his burning gaze. “What are you working on?”
“Trying to find the Jackal’s whereabouts and what he’s up to. He will retaliate. Ruining his plans and disposing of his cousin… he’ll be pissed.”
I glance back at him.
“How did you figure out that Carter Hale is the Jackal?” I ask, the question having lingered in my mind since the moment he first told me about him. “He’s supposed to be one of the best. It couldn’t have been easy.”
