‘I’m fine,’ she promised. ‘Better than fine.’ Her hands moved to his belt, unsteady fingers moving to release it, but he stilled her with his touch, taking a step back.
‘No.’
‘No?’ She pouted, still trembling from her first orgasm. ‘But I want more. I want to see.’
His eyes sparked with hers, surprise obvious. ‘We have a month. There’s no harm going slowly, to make sure you don’t regret this.’
She ground her teeth together. ‘I’m not going to.’
‘A few more days to be sure won’t hurt.’
‘You think?’
His smile lacked humour. ‘Not too much, anyway.’ He reached forward, brushing his hand over her sex, so briefly, but so perfectly, she whimpered at the subtle contact. ‘Please...’
‘Tomorrow,’ he said, but with firm insistence. ‘Tomorrow I’ll go down on you until you see stars. Bene?’
He deserved a gold medal. A whole goddamned cabinet full of them. He had never wanted to sleep with a woman more than he had Olivia. Every sound she’d made, every whimper, every arch of her back, every press of her womanhood against his arousal had threatened to bring out his not-so-inner caveman, to hell with chivalry. If she weren’t a virgin, it would have been a different story. If she hadn’t grown up in such a vile atmosphere, been undermined at every turn, made to hide her beauty, made to feel ashamed of it, if she were meeting him as his true equal in terms of experience and confidence, then he wouldn’t have let a single glass of Prosecco stop him from possessing her in all the ways they both wanted. But Olivia had lived through hell and the last thing she needed was another man disrespecting her wishes.
But hadn’t he just done that? A part of him—his libido, Luca suspected—argued back, just as fervently. She’d clearly articulated what she wanted, and he’d refused to give it to her. No, not refused. Delayed. Besides, he meant what he’d said. There was more to sex than the actual act. She deserved to feel and experience all the things most people did as teenagers, when their hormones were just coming into play and they were exploring and experimenting.
And as she felt, and learned, he would be in control at all times. He would have to be. This wouldn’t be like a normal affair, with the sorts of women he usually bedded. He would have to be particularly careful to keep Olivia at arm’s length emotionally, to pleasure her by night, but maintain their boundaries anywhere and everywhere else.
Out of nowhere, Jayne breathed into his mind, her beautiful face, her lying eyes, the way she’d looked at him when his father’s crimes had been revealed, when Luca had discovered that his once billion-dollar fortune was now worth nothing. And that was how she’d made him feel, too. Like nothing. Nobody. And he’d loved her so damned much, it had felt as if she were stabbing him, or slowly strangling him, the pain spreading through him, only worsening when he discovered she’d had an affair—that she’d used Luca as a stepping stone to climb to what she perceived to be a better marriage, a wealthier husband. And now?
Luca had the last laugh, because he was one of the richest men in the world, and he wouldn’t touch Jayne with a ten-foot bargepole. Her legacy had changed his life—he’d learned to keep all women at arm’s length, and Olivia would be no different.
He bashed the pillow against the sofa, staring up at the ceiling with a hard-on that wouldn’t quit, counting down the minutes until the morning, when her education could continue...