He seemed to impale her with the force of his stare. ‘It’s important.’
She suppressed a smile, because he couldn’t have spelled things out more clearly if he’d grabbed a white board and started writing it down.
‘Just sex. No love. I got it.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘When we sleep together, it’s simply a biological urge. There’s no true intimacy between us, no matter how we make it look to the outside world. When thirty days expire, we will walk away from one another. No regrets.’
A challenge tilted her face. ‘That’s exactly what I want, Luca. And it’s twenty-eight days, now.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘And if you start to feel differently, at any point, you promise you will tell me.’
‘I won’t feel differently. It’s not possible. I won’t feel anything.’
He seemed to consider that for a moment and, finally, nodded.
‘So? Can we do this now?’
He laughed quietly at her eagerness. ‘No.’
‘No?’ She balked at the rejection. ‘What the heck do you mean, “no”?’
‘You’ve been drinking.’
She gaped. ‘A single glass of Prosecco.’
He moved closer to her, so close their bodies were brushing, his eyes hooked to hers, before reaching behind her and slowly, painstakingly slowly, easing down the zip of her dress. ‘When...’ The zip reached the line of her bra; she shivered as he crossed it. ‘Not if,’ he placated, when the zip had gone all the way. He moved his hands to the off-the-shoulder sleeves of her dress and dropped them, his palms brushing her arms. The dress fell from her breasts and she shivered, her strapless bra a flimsy piece of lace and wire. ‘You will be completely sober.’
‘I am.’ She trembled as the dress pooled to the floor and she stood before him in only a bra and panties.
‘Completely.’ And yet, despite his words, he leaned forward and drew her lower lip between his teeth, so she arched her back, the contact searing and sensational.
‘But I want—’
‘You want to learn about sex,’ he said, reaching behind her and unfastening the bra, dropping it to the carpeted floor, beside her dress. She stepped out of the fabric, stiletto heels still in place, underpants just a scrap of fabric that could barely contain her heat and need.
‘I want to experience sex,’ she corrected.
‘Ah, my mistake.’ His eyes showed a glimmer of amusement when they met hers. ‘But there is so much to learn before you experience,’ he said gently.
‘Such as?’ Pique and disappointment crested through her.
His hands cupped her breasts when she wasn’t expecting it, so her eyes widened and her gasp was involuntary.
‘Are you aware you can be brought to orgasm through nipple stimulation alone?’
Olivia found it impossible to answer, but her eyes contained a plea, so Luca laughed under his breath. ‘Would you like me to show you?’
‘Are you really going to make me beg?’ She huffed.
‘Yes,’ he said simply, moving his mouth to the sensitive flesh just beneath her jaw. ‘I’m going to make you beg over, and over, and over again. And you’re going to love it.’
His mouth moved from her jaw to her decolletage, pressing kisses along her collarbone before he moved lower, his stubble abrasive on the sensitive flesh of her breasts, in a way that she adored. A moment later, his mouth clasped over one of her nipples and she cried out as a thousand shock waves rolled through her, amounting to a massive tsunami of need. The pleasure was intense. She’d never known anything like it. He rolled her nipple with his tongue, flicking it, then intermittently pressing his teeth down so there was a heady rush of pleasure and pain, a mix of feelings that were hot and completely absorbing. His hand toyed with her other nipple, tweaking it between his forefinger and thumb until she was moaning, panting, barely capable of breathing, much less speaking. He moved faster, then swapped his mouth from one breast to the other, the sensation of his fingers on her moist nipple bringing her close to an edge she couldn’t see, an edge she’d never before approached.
‘I—I feel—’ But the words were lodged in her brain, impossible to locate. How did one describe a feeling they’d never known before? ‘Luca, I’m—Oh, Luca!’
He moved faster, and as he plucked and tweaked he brought a hand behind her back, holding her close to him, pressing her womanhood to his rock-hard arousal, so through the flimsy fabric of her underwear she could feel the intensity of his need, and knew that it matched her own. His arousal pressed to her most sensitive cluster of nerves, promising pleasure and delights she’d never known before. Olivia was spiralling out of control, with nothing and no one to hold onto. Except there was Luca, strong, clever, Luca; she gripped his shirt as her world began to change, moving beyond what she’d ever known, becoming fierce and fiery. She held him as she fell apart, sounds of her pleasure filling the luxury suite; her own hips began to writhe, seeking more, needing more, as wave after wave of pleasure wracked her body, redefining her until she knew that the experience had turned her into something, someone, she didn’t know any more.
He pulled his head up, his own eyes heavy with arousal as he looked at her, scanning her face as if to reassure himself.