Luca's Lessons

by Deana Birch

  Gaze still fixed on the lush red carpet, she grinned. “Yes, Sir. I do think it’s a ‘fucking good idea’.”

  “Eyes.” He barked the single word with a hoarse voice. “You may choose a stall and begin whenever you are ready.” He brushed his lips along her jawline up to her ear. “You have ten minutes to tempt every man and several women here, cara. Then we will go to my suite, you will explain your sudden knowledge of Italian, then I will paddle that gorgeous ass red for your language.”

  She smirked, stepping away from his side and reaching up behind her neck to release the top of her dress, walking backward toward the center stall. “As you wish, Sir.”

  Epilogue

  One year later

  Claire

  “Care!”

  A flurry of pale pink streaked toward Claire and the small body launched into Claire’s arms, confident she wouldn’t falter. Claire held the little girl close, nuzzling her nose against the baby-soft cheek. “Oh, Ilaria, I missed you too, even if it has only been two days.”

  A loud huff sounded behind her and Claire turned to grin at the pseudo-irritation plastered on Luca’s face, his twinkling eyes and twitching lips giving away his true emotions. “I have been so easily replaced.”

  Claire leaned close to Ilaria’s ear. “I think your Cuca is feeling a little sad that you aren’t paying attention to him.” With a conspiratorial giggle, the little girl leaped from Claire’s arms to Luca’s waiting grasp, planting a kiss on his bearded cheek. Claire patted his shoulder and dropped her voice to a whisper only the three could hear and only two would understand. “Wouldn’t want to damage the fragile ego of a Dom, now would we?”

  “Brat,” he growled the single word to her retreating back.

  The intimate—by Gianna’s definition—gathering was already well underway, thanks to Luca’s complete lack of control when he’d seen the flimsy white bra and panty set she’d purchased especially for this occasion—and especially to tempt him. She located the other woman easily in the crowd and linked arms with her. “Gianna, this is stunning. Completely unnecessary, but stunning.”

  She inclined her raven head, kissing Claire three times on her cheeks. “My cousin finally found a woman able to tame him and he actually had the good sense to propose to her. My darling Claire, if this isn’t a cause for celebration, I don’t know what would be!”

  Claire laughed, snagging a glass of Luca’s family’s prized Barolo wine as the tray passed. She had largely stepped back from planning and allowed Gianna free rein, but she had insisted on one thing—white. Every flower and accent needed to be white. Her eyes roamed from the gardenia centerpieces to the crystals hanging from the ceiling and her heart sighed contentedly. It truly was perfect.

  Then her all-too-intuitive gaze zeroed in on the one face in the crowd not celebrating and only sporting fleeting, fake smiles. With Gianna reveling in her hosting duties, Claire slipped away from her side. “Adrian?”

  He lifted his anguished eyes from the drink he had been twirling between his fingers. He frowned in an all-too-familiar fashion and pain lanced through Claire’s heart. She knew exactly how he felt. “This party is beautiful. I am so happy for you and Luca.”

  She wrapped him in a firm embrace. Finally pulling back, she held his hand in hers. “It will get better. I promise you, Adrian, that you will find love and happiness again. I never believed it was possible either, but it is.”

  “I still miss him. It’s been a year, but I still miss him like it was yesterday.” He drained his glass and made a scoffing sound in the back of his throat. “Trite and cliché as that sounds, it’s true.”

  She tilted her head to one side, regarding him silently for a moment. “Do you trust me?”

  He eyed her warily, his gaze roaming from her head to her feet and back again. “I feel like this is a trap, but…yes?”

  “Good. Very good. Wait right here.” Giving him no choice, she spun on her heel and quickly crossed the room to where the only person who mattered as much to her as Luca stood, regaling a small group with some random tale of a college faux pas.

  When he finally paused to allow his public to lavish him with laughter and praise, Claire unceremoniously tugged his arm. “Please excuse Julien. He is needed by the bride-to-be.”

  “Listen, gorgeous, just because today is all about you doesn’t mean your beloved Julien doesn’t deserve just a little attention too.” He launched into a typical tirade as soon as they had cleared the crowd. “Your so-called search for my perfect man has been fruitless—pun completely intended—and I at least need to get a little adoration from a group of random strangers.”

  She stopped a few feet shy of where Adrian stood and turned to face Julien. “Do you trust me?”

  “That isn’t even up for debate.”

  She cradled his face. “And do you believe I love you and want nothing but the very best for you in every part of your life?”

  He gave her a suspicious look, as Adrian had, and she suppressed the giggle that bubbled up. “Yes…although I feel as though I may regret that now.”

  Claire dropped her hands from his cheeks and she crooked a finger at the frowning blond. “Adrian? Come here.” She pretended to ignore the sharp intake of breath from the man beside her. “Adrian, I would like you to meet my very best friend in the world, Julien.” She hooked one finger under Julien’s slackened jaw, pushing it back into place. “Julien, my darling, this is Adrian. Please enjoy some more of the Barolo, yes?”

  With that, she stood as inconspicuously as possible a few feet away, her heart warming as she saw their awkward small talk develop into passionate discussion.

  Arms wound around her waist. “Did you do that, cara?”

  She turned her head, smiling at Luca over her shoulder. “No, my love, you did.”

  He spun her in his arms, leaning down to press his forehead to hers. “I am very, very good, but I don’t believe I understand how I did this.”

  She linked her arms around his neck. “You taught me how to trust. You reminded me I could love. I simply passed along your lessons.”

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  Boundaries: To Love and Submit

  Katy Swann

  Excerpt

  Rachel moaned indulgently as the man slid easily into her deliciously wet pussy. He was big, so very big, and as he filled her with his long, thick shaft, she wondered briefly if she could take the full length of him as he pushed himself farther into her. Just when she thought she would burst, though, he pulled slowly out and a slight hint of a smile appeared in his eyes as they commanded her to surrender to him completely. Desperate to feel him inside her again, she tried to pull him back, begging him with her eyes to take her. Just as she raised her hips urgently toward him, he plunged deeply back into her, filling her completely and making her cry out with pleasure.

  “Good girl,” he growled, “let me hear you scream.”

  “Yes, Sir,” she cried, knowing he would be expecting her to respond and, as she did so, he rewarded her with a harder, deeper thrust. She wanted to touch him so badly, to run her fingers along his perfect, muscular body and, in a desperate attempt to get closer to him, she tugged at the cuffs that bound her wrists to the rail at the head of the bed. She soon forgot about them, though, as she felt a sharp slap on the side of her thigh and the desperate need in her intensified as her body responded with a delicious shudder.

  “Again?” His voice was rich and deep, and behind the hard line of his lips lurked a smile that promised more delights to come.

  “Yes please, Sir,” she whispered, her voice now hoarse with emotion and lust.

  “Pardon? I didn’t hear you.” Another slap and her body quivered uncontrollably in response to the hot sting his hand left on her buttock.

  “Yes, yes, yes…” she cried. But then, devastating reality began to force its way into her consciousness as she slowly woke from her dream. “Yes… Oh, shit!”

 
; She sat up in her bed, painfully alone and very aroused. Shit, it had felt so real, his voice, his body, everything. She rubbed her wrists, fully expecting the marks from the cuffs to be visible but, of course, there were no marks, no cuffs and no gorgeous man demanding her compliance.

  Rachel sighed, resigned once more to gratification thanks to her trusted and reliable Rabbit. As she reached under her bed, she tried to conjure up the image of the strong lover who had just been ravishing her in her dream. This was the fifth time she had had this dream, always with the same man, and yet she could never recall his face once she woke. No matter how hard she tried, he remained an elusive fantasy only willing to appear in her sleep.

  She moved her hand down under her duvet and quickly checked that she was nice and wet for her battery operated lover. Yep, she was definitely ready and she quickly slipped the cold, hard device into her wetness then flicked the switch. Nothing happened. She pulled it out again and fumbled with the various settings, but still it remained stubbornly silent and still.

  Shit, shit and double shit, the fucking batteries were dead. This was not a good start to the day, she thought, as she reached down to finish with her fingers.

  Half an hour later, she stomped into the kitchen, now showered and dressed, and grunted a half-hearted greeting at her flatmate, Mandy.

  “What’s the matter with you?” asked her friend with a smirk. “From what I heard, you should be grinning like a Cheshire Cat.”

  Rachel stared at Mandy in shock. “What?”

  “Sweetie, the walls are very thin in this flat, in case you didn’t know. Either you’ve got a secret lover hidden away in that room of yours, or you’ve been playing with your bunny again.” Mandy winked at her and handed her a cup of fresh coffee.

  Rachel sighed. “I had that dream again, you know, the one where this gorgeous man straps me to the bed and has his wicked way with me? Well, it’s getting more intense.” She took a sip of her coffee and felt a shiver run through her body as she remembered the feel of the cuffs holding her arms above her head. It had felt so incredibly sexy, and yet she wasn’t normally into kinky stuff like that, so it didn’t make sense that she’d be having such erotic dreams about it. The trouble was, now that the idea was so firmly planted in her head, she couldn’t stop thinking about it and the more she thought about it, the more the idea of being tethered to a bed and at the complete mercy of a strong, dominant man excited her.

  Mandy stuck some bread in the toaster and came to sit next to Rachel at the small kitchen table. “What you need, my friend, is a man. One who’s into the same kinky sex as you.”

  “I’m not into kinky sex. Just because I’ve had a few weird dreams about being tied up doesn’t turn me into a bloody Dominatrix.”

  “Of course not,” Mandy looked at Rachel as if she was stupid. “A Dominatrix is the one who does the tying up. You like to be tied up, which makes you the submissive.”

  Rachel nearly choked on her coffee. “I am not a submissive. I’ve never been tied up in my life for God’s sake!”

  “Except in your dreams.” Mandy got up to retrieve the hot toast as it popped up. “All I’m saying is, you’ve obviously got this hot fantasy and there’s no smoke without fire and all that shit. Toast?”

  Rachel took a slice of the slightly blackened toast and stared at it absently. “Yeah, but the way I’m going I’ll never meet anyone and, even if I did, they’d probably run a mile if I hinted that I might want to experiment with a bit of bondage.”

  Mandy chuckled. “I wouldn’t count on it. Most single, straight men would jump at the chance of tying up a gorgeous woman and fucking her senseless.”

  Rachel laughed at her friend’s rather crude but probably accurate statement. “Well, I don’t know any single, straight men, except for Mike Jones at work.” Mike was the Facilities Manager who had been harboring a crush on her for months. He was very sweet, but middle-aged, overweight and had a serious BO problem.

  Mandy’s eyebrows shot up. “You have got to be joking! Okay, babe, we’ve got to get you sorted before you end up shagging the likes of Mike Jones.”

  “Yes, but how? There’s no way I’m going to some seedy club to pick up a complete stranger.” Taking a bite of the toast, Rachel shrugged. “Even if I was that desperate I wouldn’t want the risk of picking up some nutter.”

  Mandy studied her for a second and sighed. “You know, you could join an Internet dating site. I’d bet there are a few that cater for people into BDSM and stuff.”

  “No way, I’m definitely not that desperate, and anyway, I don’t really know if I am into all that stuff. I don’t want to lead some scary dominant man on, only to find that it’s not what I want after all.”

  “Rachel, Internet dating sites are perfectly okay, you know. You don’t have to be desperate or weird to join one—loads of normal, attractive people sign up, and if you just express a mild interest in BDSM, you’re not committing yourself to a fully fledged Dom.”

  Rachel sighed as she finished her toast. Maybe Mandy had a point. It wouldn’t hurt to search for a few sites when she got a spare moment at work. Their own computer had crashed a couple of days ago and seemed to have given up the ghost, so the only Internet connection she had access to for now was the one at work, although it was strictly forbidden to use it for personal stuff.

  “I’ll think about it.” She smiled at Mandy, wishing she was more like her. Whereas she was petite and skinny, Mandy was tall and statuesque with gorgeous tanned skin and brown eyes, compared to her own pasty pale complexion and green eyes. Whether it was her height and striking cheekbones that gave Mandy so much confidence, Rachel didn’t know, but she envied her flatmate’s ability to make friends so easily and the way she had men falling over themselves to go out with her.

  Mandy reached out, took Rachel’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Hey, I’m really glad you’re thinking about sex again. It’s been over a year since you and Paul broke up, so it’s about time.”

  “Mandy…” At the mention of Paul, Rachel stood up and dumped her plate and mug in the sink. She hated talking about him so that meant the end of that particular conversation as far as she was concerned.

  “Okay, I know, I mustn’t talk about him. Anyway, I’m off. See you tonight.” Mandy blew her a quick kiss and grabbed her bag.

  “Yeah, bye.”

  Rachel didn’t move for at least ten minutes after Mandy left. Her mind was racing with thoughts about this online dating stuff. The idea of meeting some gorgeous hunk who would introduce her to a new world of erotic play, maybe tie her up—spank her even—sent a shudder of excitement through her entire body.

  She sighed as memories of Paul returned to haunt her. Would she ever get over him? Mandy was right, it was more than a year since he’d so cruelly dumped her, with tragic consequences, and yet the pain was still as strong as it had been then. Well, there was no way she would ever let a man get to her like that again. If she did meet someone through one of these sites, it would be strictly sex only. Love was seriously off the menu, and until now that had meant sex was as well, but, as her dreams were so persistently reminding her, maybe it was time to give her body a little treat.

  Forty minutes later, Rachel tiptoed past her boss’s office in the vain hope that he wouldn’t notice she was ten minutes late. She had been so preoccupied on the Tube that she’d missed her stop and had had to walk back to Holborn, stopping at Starbucks on the way of course. She carefully put her coffee cup on her desk and slid into her chair, silently congratulating herself for not getting caught, when she heard Joe call, “Rachel!”

  Damn, he sounded angry. As she scurried toward his office door, she wondered why he was so rattled about her being a teeny bit late. He wasn’t normally so anal about her timekeeping.

  “Hi, Joe,” she called brightly, as she burst through the door. One look at his face confirmed her fears—something was definitely wrong. His normally calm composure was gone—instead he looked like he might want to kill her. She tried
to recall what had happened yesterday and was just about to reassure herself that she hadn’t made any personal calls or done anything she shouldn’t have, when she remembered the search on her computer.

  She’d only wanted to check one tiny little thing, something that had been bugging her for a while that she couldn’t wait to know the answer to. Oh God, she’d done a search on BDSM and what the letters stood for and Joe must have found out. She’d known what the S and M stood for and guessed that the B must have been for bondage, but she hadn’t been sure about the D. She had felt a delicious warmth spread through her body as she’d read the description of discipline and dominance, but she hadn’t had time to finish reading it all so she’d bookmarked the page intending to finish it later. Shit, how was she going to explain that one? She put on her best ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ smile and said, “Anything wrong?”

  “Yes, Rachel, very fucking wrong.” Joe stood up and started pacing the small office, his red, round face glowing with rage.

  “I was only checking for a friend…” she stammered.

  “Fucking Adam Stone,” he interrupted before she could finish. “He may be the CEO of this company, but what gives him the right to steal other people’s staff?” He stopped suddenly and gave her a hard stare. “Checking what?”

  “Oh, nothing. Train times.” She could feel her face flush, but he was too angry to notice.

  “Come and sit down,” he said, with a sharp edge to his voice.

  She was seriously worried now. She had never seen her normally placid boss so agitated. She quickly sat down without another word and waited for him to tell her what was going on.

  He returned to his chair and sat down opposite, glaring at her before his eyes softened slightly. “I’m sorry, Rachel, it’s not your fault. I’m just so bloody angry, you know?”

  No, she didn’t know, he hadn’t actually told her anything yet. “Joe? What’s happened? Why are you so mad?” Her voice was gentle. She liked Joe and hated seeing him this upset.