Page 107 of Ruthless Grace

“I’m yours, Luca,” I whisper, my fingers tugging wildly at his shirt buttons, popping the last two open so I can press my bare palms against his broad, scarred chest. “I was yours the moment you built this place for me. I’m never running again.”

A dark, triumphant sound rumbles in his chest. Luca unbuckles his belt, unfastening his trousers with quick, practiced efficiency. He reaches down, shifting my silk lace panties aside, his long, warm fingers finding my wet, aching pussy.

I gasp out loud, my back arching off the desk as his thumb finds my sweet spot, caressing me with rhythmic, maddening precision.

“You’re so wet for me, cara,” he rasps into my ear, his breath hot against my shell. “So soft.”

“Because I love you,” I cry out softly, my hands gripping his broad shoulders, my hips instinctively lifting into his touch. “Take me, Luca. Right here. On my desk.”

Luca doesn’t hesitate. He guides his thick, hard cock into me. He pauses for one agonizing, breathless second, his eyes locking onto mine, waiting for my final nod.

I pull his face down to mine, meeting his gaze with absolute, unyielding agency. “Now, husband.”

He drives home in one deep, heavy thrust.

I let out a breathless, shattered cry as he fills me completely, my legs instantly wrapping around his waist, locking him tight against me. The cool walnut desk beneath my thighs is a stark, thrilling contrast to the scorching heat of his body invading mine.

Luca buries his face in my neck, groaning sharply as he begins a slow, devastatingly deep rhythm. Every stroke is possessive, every thrust a vow. He claims me not as a Don taking a prize, but as a husband giving his entire body and soul to his wife.

“Look at me, principessa,” he rumbles, lifting his head.

I open my eyes, locking my gaze onto his. Watching his fierce, handsome face strain with raw pleasure as he moves inside me is the most intoxicating sight on earth. I take charge of the rhythm, lifting my hips to meet his thrusts, setting a pace that makes him growl aloud.

“Gia... Dio, you’re destroying me,” he groans, his hands gripping my hips tightly, driving deeper, faster, matching my energy with unbridled passion.

The friction is unbearable, a mounting wave of electric heat building at the base of my spine. The room shrinks down to the sound of our ragged breathing, the slap of skin against skin, and the intense, overwhelming love filling every corner of my office.

“Luca... I’m close,” I sob softly, my fingers digging into his back.

“Come for me, vita mia,” he rasps, his hips snapping forward in a hard, relentless tempo. “Let me feel you fall.”

The tension snaps. A blinding, golden explosion of pleasure shatters through my entire body. I cry out his name into the quiet office, my inner muscles pulsing around him in tight, violent waves.

Seeing me shatter completely undoes him. Luca lets out a guttural growl, thrusting deep one last time, his body going rigid as he pours himself into me, his forehead resting against mine as we ride out the explosive, shared climax together.

Minutes pass in a soft, hazy bliss.

The floor-to-ceiling glass reflects the pale moonlight, casting a silver glow over the dark walnut desk. Luca sits on the edge of the desk, his trousers pulled up, his shirt open. I sit sideways in his lap, completely wrapped in his heavy wool suit jacket, my bare legs dangling over his thighs.

My head rests against his chest, listening to the steady, strong thrum of his heartbeat beneath his skin. His heavy arm is clamped securely around my waist, holding me like I’m made of precious glass.

His amber salve jar sits beside my elbow, a sweet reminder of the tender care that started this entire night.

“We scattered my preliminary trauma rosters across the floor,” I observe softly, a playful smile curving my lips as I point a manicured finger at the papers on the hardwood.

Luca leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my temple. “I’ll have my secretary reprint them in the morning.”

“I think my Chief Surgeon’s desk has been officially initiated,” I whisper, turning my face into his neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of cedarwood, lavender, and satisfied husband.

Luca’s hand tightens around my waist, his thumb tracing the soft curve of my hip.

“Every door in this hospital leads to you, Gia,” he says. “Every piece of steel I laid was for this moment. You gave me a second chance I didn’t deserve.”

I reach up, my thumb gently tracing the old scar across his knuckle. The hand that massaged mine so tenderly, the hand that guards my world.

“You earned it, Luca,” I say, looking into his dark eyes with total, absolute certainty. “We built this empire together. And tomorrow, we walk into the world as one.”

Luca smiles—a rare, genuine, blindingly handsome smile that makes my heart swell to bursting. He takes my surgical hand, bringing it to his lips, kissing my knuckles one by one.