Page 15 of The Hidden Heir

Touching.

Stirring.

Imagining his mouth working its way down the side of my neck. In a moment of intimate madness, I allow myself to slide into this fantasy.

I squeeze my breasts as rolls of steam rise everywhere around me, causing condensation to form on the shower cabin's glass walls. I pinch my nipples between my thumb and index, wishing to feel his lips wrap around them. To feel the suckling sensation and a thousand thunderbolts thrumming through my core.

Leaning against the white marble wall, I feel it cold against my back.

My fingers make their way downward, and I find my clit swollen, my folds slick. My body yearns for the kind of release I haven't experienced in a long time. This will have to do, so I let my fingers work me closer to the edge.

I open my eyes, gasping as a subtle cool breeze touches my neck.

Luca stands in the open doorway, watching. He has a full view of what I'm doing, too.

For a moment, I freeze, trying to understand what's happening.

He doesn't move. The charcoal suit wraps around his athletic form with precision and elegance. The marine-blue tie stands out, and the gold-plated pin captures a sliver of light as he moves toward me.

"What are you doing?" I ask, breathless at this point.

"Watching," Luca says simply.

"This is private…"

I can't even move. I'm naked and wet in every possible way, and Luca is dangerously close. I try to breathe, to form a coherent thought, but nothing works. My body fights me every step of the way, already moving against my will.

"Not anymore," Luca replies, his voice a low growl.

Darkness dwells in his eyes, but desire burns through them. My hand reaches for the faucet, and I turn the water off. Luca grabs one of the towels and holds it out for me. Instinctively, I cover my breasts with my hands.

"Don't," he says. "Come here."

Dammit, Valentina. Why are you so weak?

I take a step forward and let him wrap me in the plush towel. His hands roam freely, and I can feel his fingers through the thick fabric as he pats me dry. I can't look away from him and his slightly parted lips. The towel drops.

"Luca."

My fantasy becomes a dangerous reality as he grabs the back of the neck and firmly positions his lips against mine. When he kisses me, fireworks explode in my chest. His other hand wanders, briefly over my breasts, to shamelessly flick my nipple before it moves down.

I gasp when his fingers delve and explore my sizzling wetness, my folds opening like a blossoming rose—his to do with as he pleases.

"Oh, fuck," I whisper.

"Fuck, indeed. What were you thinking about?"

He circles my clit, and all I can do is hold on, my fingers digging into his shoulders as he pushes me closer to the edge of a cliff. I'm about to fall, to explode and dissolve into a billion little pieces, unable to look away from him.

"Tell me, Valentina."

I have no choice but to obey, as he slips two fingers inside me and presses the ball of his hand against my tender clit.

"Ah!" I moan, my hips swaying back and forth to match the fastening rhythm of his relentless, merciless finger-fucking. "You. I was thinking of you."

"Good," he says and kisses me.

I welcome the taste of him, I welcome his playful tongue and his all-consuming hunger, his arm jolting as he brings me to the brink of self-destruction. I come hard and gushing, his fingers curling with every retreat. I quiver in delight, groaning and melting as he squeezes every drop of this soul shattering orgasm out of me.