Page 136 of Forsaking All Others

It was so honest, the sex between us.

The kind of honesty I’d never experienced with anyone else.

It only proved to remind me that there were still so many secrets between us outside of the language of our bodies, but I didn’t let myself ruminate on them.

That would come later.

For now, I let Luca tug my hips to the end of the chair and lift each of my legs over the armrests so that I was properly splayed for him.

If anyone walked down the aisle, if the couple up front had to use the restroom or Luigi and Stefan came closer, I would be utterly exposed.

A shiver bit into my spine and rattled me to the core.

I gave myself over to the sensation—to Luca—because I knew at least in this way, he would protect me.

When his head descended, darker than the shadows at my feet, I slid my hands into his thick hair and held on as he started to devour me with a lashing tongue and sucking lips, his teeth scraping up the inside of each thigh, at the top of my clit so close to the bundle of nerves I shuddered violently.

He ate and ate.

A starving man at his last meal.

Wet noises undercut the soundtrack of the movie and the dialogue my ears were entirely deaf to. I was grateful for the panties in my mouth, the way they muffled my moans as Luca worked me closer and closer to orgasm.

The moment two thick fingers twisted into my aching sex, I shattered all over his tongue. The seat beneath me was damp with my cum, my fingers tightened to the point of aching in Luca’s waves. I ground myself into his mouth and groaned like he did into my folds.

He didn’t stop there.

While I recovered, trembling slightly, he reached for his soda, undid the top of the lid, and fished out two pieces of ice. I watched breathlessly as he popped one into his mouth and used the other to draw wide circles around my tender clit.

My brain short-circuited, vision whiting out.

Dio mio, this was too much.

Then he bent his head to fix his icy mouth over my sensitive bud and used his cold fingers to fuck inside me, two, then three, a fourth threatening just at my entrance.

I came again so fast and powerfully, I couldn’t breathe. My lungs were compressed so hard they felt like pages stuck together in a book. My mind went spotty as I lost oxygen, but it just ramped up the unspeakable pleasure Luca was playing through my core.

I could have died like that.

Right there in an old movie theater splayed across a velvet seat with Luca between my thighs.

When I came back to myself, Luca’s face was pressed to the inside of one thigh, cushioned there as he idly played his fingers in the sopping-wet seam of my cunt. His expression in the flickering light of the massive theater screen was rapt, almost dazed, the way a disciple might look after a holy meditation.

“This is my favorite sweet,” he said in a low, ravaged voice. “You want me to know my favorite things, Fiammetta? My favorite color is the exact shade of green in your eyes. My favorite scent honeysuckle and sage. My favorite flavor . . .” He sucked his wet fingers in answer as he stared up at me. “You are the beginning and end of everything I desire. Is that answer enough for you?”

I swallowed thickly, trying desperately to find my voice.

It was the answer to everything.

The only one I’d ever truly wanted.

To be something to someone.

But this surpassed even that.

To Luca, I was everything.

Tears swelled at the back of my throat, making it hard to breathe.