by Sadie Black
It was an unconventional address, but Luka's charisma had the crowd hanging on his every word. As he leaned away from the microphone, the applause began. Surrounded by the swelling noise of clapping and the cheers, Luka caught her eye once more and winked.
He took his leave of the stage then, and joined their ranks once more. Journalists and reporters swarmed him, the Belmonte boy had proved himself at last. And yet, despite the attention and the glamour, Luka didn't stop and get caught up in the crowd. He cut across the floor and took Ciara by the hand, drawing her close against his side.
"Tonight," he spoke into her ear as the crowds followed and the questions began. It was old news that Luka was dating a girl, but the press had yet to interview them together. "We're going to blow this place and go out to celebrate. You and me, an upscale bar, some drinks and celebration. What do you say?"
What else was there to say? Luka turned his head away and Ciara whispered into his ear in place.
"Of course."
"Mr. Mayor!" one reporter cried out. "Mr. Mayor, can you tell us how you feel about your landslide victory?"
"Mr. Mayor!"
"Mr. Mayor! Over here!"
"Mr. Mayor, can you tell us your girlfriend's name?"
It was the only question Luka acknowledged. He turned towards the young reporter and leaned towards his voice recorder.
"Her name is Ciara Simmons," he said, "and without her support, I don't think I'd be standing here today."
"Ms. Simmons," the questions began at once, "how do you feel about Mr. Mayor's victory?"
"Ms. Simmons!"
"Ms. Simmons, how long have you been dating?"
Since she discovered journalism, Ciara had always pictured herself on the opposite end of this kind of questioning. The barrage of voices was overwhelming, and she found herself tongue tied. It was Luka who shook his head and replied.
"As much as we all love a good love story, I keep the details of my relationship with Ms. Simmons private. I ask you all to respect her privacy as a person. All that needs to be said is that I plan on having Ms. Simmons at my side for a long time."
The shrill voices and jarring questions no longer registered. What Luka had said about their relationship filled her with hope for the future. What they shared was more than just a quick fling or a relationship of convenience — it was real.
Tonight, beyond a celebration of victory, they would celebrate how much they had done for one another. With any luck, it would be the first celebration of many over the span of just as many years. In that moment, facing the world at his side, Ciara hoped she'd never stand without him again.
* * *
Luka
"Oh my god, you're Luka Belmonte, aren't you?"
None of Vittore's silicone models had anything on her. Brown ringlets fell down her shoulders and shone with flawless health. Her face was sweet, bedroom eyes looking him over from chest to crotch and then up again. In the dim lights he couldn't make out the color of her eyes, but he knew they were light — maybe a gray. The plunging line of her black halter top showed off the curve of her breasts, heavy and well formed.
Had this been half a year ago, Luka would have been all over her. As it was, he didn't give her a second thought. The only woman who mattered was already his to call his own, and Luka knew he would never get tired of her.
"The one and only," he replied, shooting her a charismatic smile. By now it was a matter of habit rather than interest, but once a charmer, always a charmer. The young lady quirked an eyebrow and lifted a corner of her lips in a flirtatious half-smile. Both of her palms settled on the surface of the table before him, and she leaned forward to show off her breasts. Luka's eyes did not wander.
"Like, I guess I should say, Mr. Mayor Belmonte, right? That's so sexy. I can't believe that I'm actually here talking to you in person. I voted for you, you know. I never really was invested in politics before you. Do you think we can take a picture together, Mr. Mayor?"
In the dim, atmospheric lights of Fuzion Bar, Luka wasn't convinced a selfie would turn out. But who was he to deny a supporter? The grin widened, exposing brilliant teeth, and he nodded. Without the support of his voters, he'd never have conquered his dreams. A selfie seemed the least he could do.
"Yeah. Let's do it."
"Thank you!" she cooed, slipping onto the bench beside him and pressing up to his side. She untucked her cellphone from inside the cup of her bra and activated the front facing camera. Luka saw himself in the small screen. Not even the bar's dim lights could hide the expression of glee on his face. Life was good.
"Okay, just let me look hot, and then... Ready?"
"Ready," Luka assured her. The loud sound of an old shutter lens broke against the grainy music playing, and his image was immortalized in her phone.
"So cool, thank you, Mr. Mayor," she gushed as she stood. "It's so weird that you're an actual person who goes out and not just some stuffy guy in a suit who never has any fun. I know you're going to be so good for the city, just like your dad."
"What my father did for New York is going to pale in comparison to what I do for her. Thanks for your support; I'm not going to let you down."
"You'd better not let us down." Two drinks met the surface of the table, and Ciara slid onto the bench the brunette had just vacated. Luka's cocky grin softened as his gaze fell upon her. What good deeds had he done in a past life to deserve a girl as smart and beautiful as she was? Next to Ciara, the brunette was painfully average.
Love was so different from what Luka had imagined it to be. It wasn't about satisfying a part of himself, it was about acting out in a selfless manner for another person without batting an eyelash over it. He'd saved Ciara's life from the mafia by putting his own neck on the line, and even now he didn't regret it. She was worth it.
"I'll catch you later, Mr. Mayor," the brunette said as Ciara slipped a hand onto Luka's thigh. The message between the woman was clear — Ciara was claiming ownership, and the brunette acknowledged as much. A rush of heat flooded Luka's gut at the exchange. Ciara was as dominant and sure of herself as he was, and her show of control was intoxicating. It made him want her in the worst way.
"Who was that?" Ciara asked. The flat of her hand moved inward, inching near his groin. The display was not indecent, but it was evocative.
"A voter," Luka replied, eyes sweeping down her modest breasts and narrow waist to the hem of her little black dress.
The curve of dark, gorgeous thighs waited for him there, and he let himself drink in the sight before lifting his gaze to lock eyes with her again. "No one I knew. Just another person looking to congratulate me and get their picture taken with me. I feel like a celebrity."
"You are a celebrity." Ciara picked her drink up from where she'd set it and sipped at it. "You're the man of the hour. I bet there isn't a girl in this bar that would give up everything to be in my seat right now."
"Too bad for them there's only one woman I'm interested in."
Party boy roots made it seem natural that he'd go out on the town to celebrate his landslide victory, but now that he'd settled down at a booth with Ciara, fewer aspects of the nightlife appealed to him. Half of the fun, Luka realized, was in meeting new people and trying to take girls home. That just wasn't him anymore.
"Oh my god, Mr. Belmonte?" another voice asked, shrill and excited. Like a road flare set off in the dark, the voice attracted the attention of a good part of the bar. Soon, dozens of eyes were upon them. "Wow! Can I get a picture with you?"
"Will you sign my napkin, Mr. Mayor?"
"My friend was so into your campaign, Mr. Belmonte! It'd mean the world to her if you could call her phone just to say hi."
They swarmed around the booth like paparazzi, and Luka's ego swelled with pride. From the very beginning he'd been set up to fail, and he'd risen above and proved everyone wrong. There was a beautiful woman on his arm and the career of his dreams ahead of him. Not even the best of his party days could compare to how sweet life was at t
hat moment.
"Forget the drinks," Luka murmured into Ciara's ear. "Let's get out of here and see where the night takes us."
By the way Ciara's hand squeezed just slightly upon his thigh, Luka had a pretty good idea of where that might be.
"You went into the wrong line of work, Mr. Mayor," Ciara whispered back, "you should have been a psychic, because you just read my mind."
The thrill of knowing such a strong woman wanted him pulsed in Luka's heart, and he grabbed her hand and pushed his way out from the bench. Ciara followed, heels clicking with each hurried step.
She'd grabbed their coats from the booth on the way out, but there was no time to put them on. The cold rush of air from outside hit the exposed skin of his neck and cheeks, and a laugh burst from deep inside at the feeling. On top of the world, alive with sensation, and in love, there had been no greater moment.
"You're going to freeze!" Ciara chided him as they rushed across the sidewalk. Luka still held her hand firmly, directing her. With his free hand he waved down a cab, and before Ciara could force him into his coat, they were climbing into the back seat.
"You're Mr. Belmonte, aren't you?" the cabby asked, turning in his seat to look back at them. Luka grinned wide. There wasn't a man or woman in New York who didn't know his face, and now it wasn't because he had made a fool of himself on national television.
"Second only to my father," Luka confirmed as he sank back into the seat and did up the buckle. Beside him, using his coat like a blanket, Ciara rolled her eyes skyward in good humor.
"You can also call him ham," she shot back with a laugh. "He's been playing it up all night."
The cab pulled away from the curb and the meter started to roll. Luka gave succinct directions, and soon they'd returned to his condo. Through the broad windows, New York stretched out before them.
When the front door closed behind them, Luka took his coat from Ciara's arm and tossed it to the floor. Both of his palms passed over her shoulders, pushing her coat from it until it pooled on the ground around her feet. Ciara lifted her chin to look up at him, exposing the long, elegant line of her neck, and Luka's desire grew. There was such soul in her eyes, such passion and ambition that his own aspirations seemed weak in comparison. Someone so driven was exactly the kind of person he needed in his life. Ciara completed parts of him he'd never realized were unfulfilled.
Hands still on her shoulders, Luka pushed Ciara up against the wall and caught her mouth in a heated kiss. Willing lips returned his passion, and the tension began to ease from Ciara's body as she melted for him. Luka grew hard, he pressed his body up against hers. The kiss broke, and Ciara lifted her gaze to catch his eye.
"If I didn't know better, Mr. Mayor," she cooed, voice dripping with desire like honey from a spoon, "I'd think that you wanted to do immoral things to me. As a devoted volunteer on your campaign trial, that would be entirely unprofessional."
"Campaign's over,” Luka replied without missing a beat. The pitch of his voice had dropped a tone, laden with arousal. "Your job is done, and now it's time to play."
Grabbing her hand once more, Luka pulled Ciara through the spacious living room and towards his enclosed bedroom. A laugh was his reward, and Ciara staggered along behind him, attempting to keep pace.
"You've won the race, you've won the girl, now what's next?" she asked as they approached the bedroom door left ajar. Luka shouldered it open and drew Ciara towards his bed.
"I'm thinking it's time to start working towards some other big life goals." The future stretched out before them, anything possible. All that Luka knew was that he wanted to keep Ciara at his side through all of it. He'd risked his life and safety for her, and he knew he'd gladly do it all over again. This was love, not lust — his feelings for her were not fleeting. With his thirties rapidly approaching, it was time to consider settling down.
"Mmm? Like what?" Ciara's hand parted from his, and she settled elegantly on the bed, lifting a slender leg towards him as an invitation to remove the beautiful black pump upon her foot. With care, Luka removed the heel and set it down. Ciara lifted her other foot so he could do the same.
"I'm thinking in the next few months to come, it might be in my best interest to tie down the most fantastic woman who's ever walked into my life." As he spoke the words, Ciara's eyes lit up.
It wasn't a proposal — Luka knew better than that — but seeing her react in such a positive way confirmed that he wouldn't be wasting his time getting down on one knee in the future. "I'm thinking that spending the rest of my life with one incredible, intelligent, stunning woman would be better than any party or fling. What do you think?"
Ciara's dark eyes settled on him, widened with joy and excitement.
"I think you should ask her," she confirmed. "Who in their right mind would deny a man as devoted and as charming as Luka Belmonte?"
"You've got to understand." The second heel was on the floor now, and Luka's hand ran up Ciara's leg. The sheer pantyhose she wore were stripped off next. As soon as they had balled on the ground, he climbed up on the bed and pushed her down against the mattress. "This woman is bold. Sure of herself. Her own woman. I'm not sure she'd say yes to any man."
A long index finger traced up Ciara's thigh and disappeared beneath the hem of her dress. Luka's fingertip met her thong, and he let his finger run up and down the fabric. Ciara was already warm for him, and he hungered for more.
"Then she'd be a fool," Ciara replied. The pressure against his hand increased as she bore down against him in a demanding, yet subtle, way. Luka didn't deny her. His index finger slipped behind her thong to explore the slicked crevice beneath. A sharp gasp was his reward, and Ciara tossed her head back. "You need to ask her, Luka. There's no way she wouldn't say yes."
The engorged bud he'd sought brushed against his finger, and Ciara gasped again and pushed down against him. Target found, Luka lowered himself down her body until his lips brushed against her clit. He caught hold of her thong, pushing it down to her knees. The garment was quickly discarded as he moved between her legs and let the tip of his tongue trace against her slickness.
"I hope you're right," he whispered letting his tongue gently glide over her sensitive bud. "I love her."
"She loves you," Ciara whispered back, hips moving in a slow rhythm against tongue. Luka knew what she said to be true. His tongue softly traced around her clit taunting her desire until Ciara cried out in frustration. Only once he knew she could take no more, he surrounded her swollen bud with his lips and drew her to her climax with his eager tongue. When Ciara stopped bucking wildly against his mouth, Luka edged back up over her body, a smirk on his lips.
Ciara undid the belt around his waist and the button of his pants, and soon they were on the floor. Luka's briefs followed, and when her hand met the turgid shaft beneath, he knew true bliss. As Ciara pressed against his hand, so too did his hips pump against hers. Need kindled between them until it had lit itself aflame, and Luka could wait no more. Ciara exhaled slowly, attempting to level the excitement she felt. For Luka, there was no such relief — he had to take her.
When Ciara lifted her hips to invite him further, Luka didn't hesitate. The tight, warm confines of her body embraced him, and he sank himself deep inside of her. In the distance New York glittered, but the only beauty that mattered was the one beneath him. Ciara's lips had parted just slightly, her eyes closed. One leg raised to brush his hip, and the tenderness drove him to begin to move.
The heat of their bodies and the sound of their breathing grounded him in the reality of the scenario. The beautiful girl he'd fallen for, the mole for TCD, was his for now and, hopefully, forever. Each thrust was geared towards her pleasure, and every one of her moans felt just as fantastic as the sex they shared. He loved Ciara, and there was no better feeling in the world.
Minutes bled together until time had no meaning. Heated kisses, timed movements, and tender caresses marked the seconds of the universe they shared together. Luka never wanted it to end,
but the urge to finish built low inside and struggled to break free of his hold. Soon, he wouldn't be able to hold back.
"Luka," she breathed. As her walls tightened around him, Luka knew that she was losing her own battle. Orgasm would win at any second, plunging her into the selfish delight he had driven her to. "Oh my god, Luka..."
Like ripples across a pond, the contractions as her body let go came in waves. Luka grit his teeth and grunted, trying to hold himself back, but her body invited his own orgasm and it would not be stopped. Heat shot through him as he lost control and buried his seed deep in her body.
When at last he could breathe, Luka settled down beside her and drew her into his arms.
"You know, after that, I might not ask that girl to marry me after all. You've got it going on. What are you doing for the rest of your life?"
Ciara's laugh was like sunshine after a storm, warming Luka's soul.
"You're a dork," she uttered, playfully tapping him on the chest. Luka closed his eyes and grinned.
Yeah, he was a dork, but tonight he was the luckiest dork alive, and the future promised even brighter days to come.
Ciara
Luka. Fierce eyes and a cocky smirk. Dark hair wild and mussed. The front of his dress shirt open to expose his smooth chest. On confident footsteps he approached the bed, eyes eating her up.
"You're mine," he rasped, one knee pushing against the mattress, then the other. He climbed towards her, pushed her shoulders down so she laid flush with the sheets, and then...
The flush of the toilet woke Ciara from her slumber. Both eyes opened at once, and she rolled onto her side and squeezed them closed again. By nature she was a morning person, and yet sleep refused to relinquish its grasp on her. All of her limbs still felt relaxed, as though still asleep.
Wearing only a pair of boxers, Luka exited the master bathroom and noticed she'd woken up. Much like in her dream, his dark hair was messy from last night's fun, but the look in his eyes was softer than in her fantasy. He settled back onto the bed beside her and ran his hand down her side.