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Penny glances between us.

"Uh, just remembered I have to be somewhere else, I'll see you backstage Jeanne." She leaves the room and the door shuts behind her.

In the silence that follows, he continues to glare at me. That typical brand of Luca possessiveness is written all over his face, and why do I find that so hot?

"I’m going on stage soon. I had to take off the ring to fit in with my character."

His jaw hardens.

"I’ll wear it right after the show is over, okay?" I say in a soothing voice.

He brings those flashing blue eyes to my features, and whatever he sees there seems to relax his shoulders. "I’m acting crazy, I’m sorry. It seems where you’re concerned, I have a hard time holding back my caveman instincts."

"And I should find it annoying but—" I shake my head "—fact is, I love it." I place my palm against his cheek. "I revel in your ownership. In your near-psychopathic overprotectiveness. I bask in your dominating tendencies, your controlling actions, your nearly obsessive need to declare to the world that I belong to you."

"You do?" His eyes gleam.

"Don’t let that go to your head. It’s only because I’m about to go on stage in my first lead role that I’m feeling vulnerable. That’s the only reason I confessed all of that to you."

He chuckles, then wraps his thick arm around my waist and yanks me up and close to him. "You’re messing me up, playing havoc with my temperament and my good intentions. I thought I knew what I wanted, but then you came along, and nothing is what it was. The most important thing in the world is you, and if something happened to you, I’d never be able to survive it."

A band tightens around my chest. "You’re worried someone will take another shot at me when I’m on stage."

"You have nothing to worry about. As long as I’m alive, I’ll make sure nothing and no one hurts you."

Something in his tone makes me pause. I search his features. His eyes are as clear as ever, his lips curled in that familiar smirk. There’s nothing on his face that indicates he's prevaricating, but I can’t get rid of the cold sensation that’s gripped my heart.

"What is it?" I wind my arms about his neck. "What’s wrong?"

"Nothing," he assures me.

"You’re stressed because of the upcoming performance?"

He hesitates. "I would be lying if I said otherwise. But you’re an actress. This is your passion. This is what you live for. It’s only right you should perform today."

Something shadowed lurks in the recesses of his eyes, and I’d have missed it except for the fact that I’m watching him closely.

"Luca, you’re scaring me."

"Don’t be." He lowers his head so we share breath. He places his lips over mine, leaving a sliver of space between us. His gaze bores deeply into mine, and it’s heady and arousing and confusing, all at the same time.

"What is it?” I ask again. “You’re hiding something from me."

"I am." He grips me under my butt and lifts me. I lock my ankles around his waist. He leans into me and the unmistakable hard column in his crotch stabs me between my legs.

Flutters of lust spark at my nerve endings. "That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it."

"That’s what I meant." He brushes his lips over mine, his touch so sweet, so unlike any of our past kisses that my insides disintegrate.

"You’re trying to distract me," I whisper.

"Not enough, if you’re still talking." He pushes me into the wall and a sigh rises from somewhere deep inside of me. This—pinned against him, with nowhere to escape, with his presence holding me captive, his breath raising the hair on my temple, his scent teasing my senses, the heat from his body flowing around me, caressing me, pushing down on my shoulders and holding me in place… This… is where I have always wanted to be.

I raise my head at the same time that he lowers his. Our mouths fuse and our teeth clash, our tongues winding around each other, grappling with urgency. He shoves down my yoga pants, pushes aside my panties and pulls out my tampon. Before I can protest, he's tossed it aside and buried his fingers—four of them—inside me up to his knuckles. I gasp, feeling the wetness and hearing the squelch against his digits as he curls his fingers. The trembling instantly seizes me. I slide my hand between us, reaching for his waistband. I manage to undo the top button before he pulls his fingers out of me and shoves them in my mouth.

"Suck me clean. Taste yourself on me."

His gaze is fierce, his color high, as I follow his orders. I curl my tongue around his fingers, all the while grappling with his zipper. At last, I lower it, slide my fingers inside his boxers, and wrap my fingers around his big, thick length. My core clenches, and my chest hurts. Every part of me seems to be aflame with need. He pulls his fingers from my mouth and shoves my hand aside. Then he’s there. The blunt tip of his cock teases my opening.


Tags: L. Steele Arranged Marriage Erotic