L'amore: The Luminara Series

by SJ Molloy

  He walks over and lifts my wrist gently, kissing all around the fractured area where the plate was put in. “After I feed you, I will go to the twenty-four hour pharmacy and get you something.”

  “No, don’t worry. It can wait. I’d rather you stay with me. I missed your closeness last night,” I confess, nibbling my bottom lip. “It smells divine in here. It smells of you.”

  Our communication tonight has been a small breakthrough for me, and I’m glad we talked. The effort he has gone to, his truth, sweetness, and commitment he’s promised is dispersing my foul mood and softening me. His sincere confession that he is still learning at relationships and that it’s new to him too warms my heart. Smelling his bath scents reminds me of special intimate moments we have shared.

  “Baby, I want nothing more than to hold you close to me. I will come in the bath with you, and we will talk some more if you want to, then I will bring up food.” He strips his lounge bottoms off his sexy hips, his eager erection springing free.

  As if on perfect cue, his music has changed to Kings of Leon, “I Want You.”

  I shake my head in amusement, but I’m secretly filing a happy chapter in the library of love and lust. He presses up behind me, forcing his hard cock against my ass, and wraps his hand around my stomach, kissing on and around my ear. “I cannot be close to you and not feel this. This is for you, only you. This is what you do to me. I only need to smell you, glimpse you, and I am horned up for you. I have it bad for you, baby, and I cannot resist you,” he rasps in that deep sexy way into my ear.

  He has me.

  “As much as I’d like to help you out with that, it won’t be tonight, so you’re going to have to hold me and think of something else.”

  “You’re killing me,” he groans.

  “I’m killing myself,” I mutter.

  “Then why are you denying us? You are all I can think about. I cannot stand not having you. I just want to be inside you, feeling you and holding you close to me.”

  Ignoring his pleas, I remove my bra and panties and step into the water. Turning off the taps, I slide down into the warm delightful water.

  Oh, that feels good.

  He looks down at me, glowering with rejection, but his wanting eyes are swallowing me up.

  “Well, are you just going to stand there, or are you getting in?”

  He doesn’t know whether to laugh or curse. Giving a playful grin, he steps in and slides down behind me, placing his legs on the outside of mine. “You are sexy as fuck when you are fiery. Have I told you that before?”

  Ignored.

  I’m not falling for his charms.

  Wrapping his arms around me, he holds me in close to his chest and I collapse into his hold, resting my head in the crook of his neck. I feel so secure, so safe.

  “Hmmm, that feels nice,” I say, breathing in the sweet tropical smell and enjoying the skin on skin contact. I’m trying to ignore his hard cock at the bottom of my back. He’s groaning and his chest is expanding against my skin with his heavy breathing.

  “Cock tease,” I hear him mutter.

  I close my eyes and place my hands on his knees, lightly outlining shapes with my fingers on his skin in the flickering candle light. Feeling his two hands now kneading into my tight shoulders wakes up the butterflies and my sex for that matter.

  Torture.

  Bliss.

  “Hmmm,” I mumble.

  “Nice?” he asks.

  “Yes, I feel so much more relaxed already.”

  He bends and kisses the shell of my ear softly then moves my hair to the side and kisses my neck.

  “What about this?”

  Folded.

  Crumbled.

  Melted.

  I’m wet with silky readiness, and my sex has a pulsing heartbeat in anticipation. Trailing his hands down my sternum, he pauses before reaching my breasts, which involuntarily push up to meet his cupped hands. My nipples are begging to be caressed.

  “What about this?”

  “Uh huh.”

  He massages them then tightens his fingers around my aroused nipples.

  He’s got me.

  I’m taken.

  Fuck!

  File W for weak. Weak under sex duress.

  “You are fucking irresistible. I want you, dolcezza. I cannot resist you. Can I have you?”

  “Yes.” I softly moan.

  Pressing my legs together, I squirm to relieve the throbbing between my legs.

  “Do you want me to help you with that?”

  Absolutely.

  “I need you to tell me. Tell me it’s what you want. Ask and you will get.” He continues to kiss my neck and ear and stroke my taught nipples.

  I don’t know why I tried to refuse this.

  “I want you,” I softly moan.

  “Tell me what you want, baby.”

  Everything.

  I push my ass against him. “I want you to touch me, I want you in me, and I want to come all around you. I can’t wait. I need you.”

  “You are mine,” he groans, sliding his hand down to the crux of my desire. He slides his fingers over my wet flesh, in between my silky folds, and slides his fingers inside me, pressing his thumb on my sweet spot. I buck and thrust up against his palm, pushing his fingers in further. He torments me with his magic touch repeatedly.

  Divinity.

  Tensing, I grip his arms. Climbing, I’m nearly there, then he slides his fingers out of me.

  No. No. No.

  What is he doing?

  “Stand up and turn around, then place your legs at the side of me. I want you to come in my mouth. You will be grateful for the delay. I promise.”

  Oh God.

  Need.

  Now.

  I jump up quickly, moving the water around, then stand with my legs at either side of him. He moves my legs further apart, then lifts my right leg and places my foot on his shoulder. I need his tongue so much, I’m ravenous for it. He presses his head against my stomach, his nose close to my sex. Holding my ass cheeks, he stares down at me, filling his lungs.

  “Your body is amazing. The thought of never having you again nearly killed me. Fuck, I am so happy.” His hot breath hits my pulsing clit.

  “Lucca, please,” I whine, spearing my fingers in his hair.

  Andrea Bocelli’s Italian love song, “Vivo Per Lei” enchantingly echoes. It’s one of my favourites, but it’s slow and I need a quick tempo to reach a fast climax.

  He’s slowly killing me.

  He trails kisses on the inside of my leg, then blows where he has kissed. He’s tormenting me by dragging this out. I wriggle and rock further towards him, coaxing his tongue towards my neediness.

  When the music becomes more powerful, his tongue reaches my sensitivity. Hallelujah!

  Swirl.

  Suck.

  Lick.

  Kiss.

  Nibble.

  His fingers enter, pressing on my front wall while his tongue thrashes against my clitoris. I’m tensing, fluttering straight to my core.

  “Baby, fuck my tongue and come for me,” he demands.

  I grind into him only with a few thrusts, and it’s enough to fill me with an exuberance of pleasure rippling through my veins, my blood. I shudder with a blissful, orgasmic rush.

  Continuing with his licking and kissing, he ensures I have shaken out every last electrified twitched nerve. I move his head away because I’m overly sensitive, and he laughs then slowly kisses my navel.

  He lowers my leg back into the water but keeps his fingers in me. “I want you to turn around, and when I remove my fingers, slide down on my cock and lean back onto me.”

  With weak legs, I turn around as his fingers screw inside my sheath and his thumb rests on my sweet spot.

  Sweet Jesus.

  The sensation.

  The music.

  The amassed tension.

  It’s all driving me into ecstasy. I lower myself back into the water, straddling his waist. His fingers
slip out of me just as I am filled with his hard, thick length.

  He stills.

  I still.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growls. “Lean back.”

  I lean back against his chest, my ass sliding down his stomach, and I anchor myself on him. The penetration I feel deep at this angle is staggering. The jolting pressure of his erect cock against my front wall is making me delirious. He wraps his legs around mine, locking my feet so I don’t slip. I lean my head back against his shoulder as he wraps his arms around me, groping my heavy breasts. Digging my heels under his grip, I lift slightly off him then slide back down slowly onto his length.

  I scream with sheer fulfilment once I’m accustomed to the intrusion.

  Our bodies glide harmoniously, raptured in the enjoyment of the sensation. We move slowly, repeating long, vaulted, deep satiated plunges, shifting the water around the tub.

  “Christ, you feel amazing. You blow my fucking mind.” Releasing one hand from my breasts, he teases my clitoris. I clench onto his arm, feeling his veins protruding through his skin.

  “I’m so close …” I whimper.

  I feel his arms going rigid, picking up more speed, and he lifts his hips up higher, diving further into me. I don’t know how long I can hold on. I’m coming undone.

  Splintering.

  “Now, baby. Let go.”

  I scream, and he shouts my name, stiffening and filling me hard as he holds me tight. My eyes roll back into my head as I dig my nails into his arms. Breathing frantically in the surrounding steam, lost and sated in my undulating orgasm, my shoulders back onto him feeling as if I have floating limbs. My head rolls side to side until the frequency of sparking electricity has surged completely through me.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

  He’s still exhilarating in his own bliss. Using his hands on my hips to lift me up and down, he pounds me a few extra times, creaming me with more sperm. He groans and melts back into the deep tub. The curls from my wet hair are stuck across my cheeks and my face, covering my chest and down over my breasts, but I don’t have the strength to move them.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  “Mmmm ... hmmm,” I hum. “I’m better than okay. I needed you so badly.”

  “Good, me too. That was fucking hot.” He moves the curls from the side of my face, kissing my temple. “Can you move yet?” he asks.

  “I’m not sure.” I sigh with contentment. He lifts me up and I wince as I lose his girth from inside me. He spins me around and the water splashes everywhere.

  “I want your mouth.” He’s not asking.

  I kneel in the water in front of him then lean my head back into the tropical scented water completely submerging my hair, and I shake my locks, freeing them from clinging against my face. My breasts push upward with the movement, my hardening nipples surfacing from the water.

  By the time I’ve lifted my head, he’s over me, grabbing my breasts and thrashing his tongue inside me. I’ve missed having his tongue in my mouth. This alone could send me over the edge again. Seizing the back of my head, he hauls me towards him.

  “I missed your kisses today,” I pant between our assaulting tongues.

  “So have I. Look at me.” He’s husky, sexy, and in control.

  I hear another song I recognise in his playlist; it’s Emeli Sande and Labyrinth’s, “Beneath Your Beautiful.” Opening my eyes, I see his hunger, his desire, and his passion. The exact feeling I have right now.

  Without warning, he moves his hand down my saturated curtain of hair ensconcing my back then cups my ass, lifting me up. My knees and legs spread adjusting to the sides of his hips.

  Sunk.

  Submerged deep into the abyss, the inherent penetration back within me.

  My eyes lock with his, drowning in them, and my tongue united with his just makes this experience all the more intimate while we cruise into another pinnacle of pleasure. When I can’t take anymore, the current of indulgence pulls me under. We come apart, surfing to the crest of orgasm, and he fills me, spurting his release, rasping my name in gratitude.

  He remains inside me, deep in my hot core, as I fall into his chest.

  Completely spent and relaxed, exhaustion takes over me when Leona Lewis’s beautiful voice sings “I Got You.”

  Kiss.

  Kiss.

  Kiss.

  Eyes closed.

  Scent awakens my senses. The lush aroma of tropical oil, fresh flowers, extinguished candles, and fresh coffee.

  Sight is next sense as my fluttering lashes allow light in. A warm burst of sunlight is glowing through the window, and everything appears brighter today.

  Touch—the warm, masculine touch from Lucca. His mouth is at my ear, buried in my wild bedhead hair; his hand is on my hip as we lie on the new mattress.

  “Sleep well?” he says before kissing my ear then my neck.

  “Mmmm … hmmm.” I stretch my used limbs.

  Laughing, he says, “You are not a morning person, but you are adorable. Breakfast is in the living area on the table. You must be starving.”

  “I thought you were feeding me last night?” I say, turning over on my side to look at him. His crystal blues are back, twinkling in the morning light.

  “I fed your hunger, but not with food. You fell asleep on me during the bath. I had to bring you to bed.” He grins.

  I remember our amazing make-up sex in the tub, but don’t recall going to bed.

  Smiling, he pulls the sheets back and takes my hand, leading me towards the delicious aroma. I grab my black silk robe from the chair as we walk by then wrap it around myself before sitting down.

  He frowns as I cover up, but we’re sitting in front of the French doors overlooking the front of his garden, so I’d like to maintain modesty.

  “This smells divine. I’m so hungry. Did you prepare it, or did Rose?” I quiz while lifting off the plate covers.

  “I did it while you were sleeping, but Rose baked some bread and cinnamon buns for us before going out.”

  My heels are clicking together with excitement. I love sweet pastries, especially when they’re hot. I spread some apricot jam on the toasted bread. The first mouthful just feels like heaven, another sense I have awakened this morning—taste.

  I drink a glass of orange juice in one go to quench my thirst. Lucca pours me another glass as I delve into a small bowl of fresh fruit and yogurt, then I enjoy Lucca’s omelettes with mushroom, cheese, ham, and chives, and his homemade tomato, basil, and oregano sausages with fresh tomato, onion, and balsamic chutney on the side.

  Delicious.

  I even manage a sticky cinnamon bun with my coffee afterwards. I feel fit to explode but very satisfied. Lucca reads his newspaper, but occasionally glances towards me, shaking his head in amusement when I dip my finger in the apricot jam and lick it off.

  “Enjoy that?”

  “Yes, it was wonderful, thank you.”

  “I have something for you.” He grins. He walks over to his jacket that’s hanging over the suede sofa and lifts something small from his pocket, clutching it in his palm looking very entertained with himself.

  “Lucca, you have already given me far too much and it’s making me restless. I don’t want people thinking we’re together because I’m after you for your generosity, and the breakfast was more than a big enough treat. I’m very grateful you look after me and are such a great chef,” I assure him.

  “I do not give a flying fuck what other people think. I am spoiling you for the rest of our lives, and I love how appreciative you are about everyday little things. One of the many reasons why I love you.” He walks around the back of my chair.

  I’m expecting him to dangle some form of expensive bling around my neck, but instead he places something cold and sharp in my hand and kisses my head. Opening my palm, there are two key fobs placed in the centre. Staring while knitting my brow, I’m a little confused.

  “What’s this?” I ask.

  “Your new transport.”


  “Lucca, have you bought me a car? When? And why are there two key fobs?” I ask sternly.

  “Yes. If you are going all fiery on me, hurry up about it so I can take you over that sofa,” he chuckles, rubbing his thumb along the bottom of his lip.

  “You’re an ass. Are you just trying to get a reaction out of me so you can have your wicked way?” I retort, staring at the fobs in one palm with my other hand on my hip.

  Raising his brow roguishly, he leans over and presses a button on the key fobs. Beeping, squealing, and irritating car alarm sirens go off.

  Sound … my last sense this morning and shit, if it isn’t annoying.

  “Jesus, what’s going on?” I moan, screwing my face with the impetuous noise.

  “You should go outside and sort that noise out, baby. Your vehicles will attract attention.”

  I throw my napkin at him and pace to the French doors. Throwing them open, I walk onto the balcony and see two magnificent cars in front of the house. I squeal with delight like a child at Christmas, hopping side to side with excitement. Running towards him, I give him the biggest, most appreciative kiss I can, then run out the suite, down the stairs, and throw the front door open.

  Oh my goodness.

  There is a sleek, sexy, sports car and a smart looking sporty 4x4.

  What the hell?

  True to his word, he has actually bought me two exquisite cars.

  I place my hands on both fobs to quiet the alarm sounds. Walking around the first car, I run my fingers along the pretty, sleek, sparkly sheen from the body—a deep blue colour. It’s sophisticated, elegant, yet sporty. The hood is down, and I can smell the newness of the leather.

  Lucca joins me, wearing just his lounge pants, as I stare in complete awe, not knowing what to do with myself. Not that I’m one for flashy or material things but wow … this is exciting and they are so impressive.

  “It is an Aston Martin Vanquish Volante. I like Aston Martins and I thought you would like this model,” Lucca explains.

  “Wow. Oh, wow, oh, wow. I don’t know what to say.” I throw my hand over my mouth completely awe-inspired.

  Holy shit.

  “Well, stop gawking and get in. Tell me what you think.”

  Happy to oblige, I open the door and jump in. I throw my head back on the peacock blue leather headrest and close my eyes. My grandpa would be impressed by this car. I run my fingers over the wheel, absorbing the sophistication of the interior. There are so many buttons and gadgets.