Chapter 214
-LUCA-
I was one second from giving her exactly what she was begging for.
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Her mouth was on mine. Her taste was still on my tongue. Her legs were around me and my cock was in excruciating pain behind the zipper and every reason I had ever used to run was already dead on the carpet.
“I’m going to make you scream tonight,” I said against her lips. It came out raw. Honest. Hungry. “I want the whole of Barcelona to hear you.”
Her breath caught.
That was all I needed.
I pulled back only long enough to rip my shirt off. Then the rest. Pants. Everything. I did not look away from her while I did it.
I wanted her to see what she had done to me.
How hard I was. How little control I had left. My cock slipped out, hard and cruel from wanting her, and her eyes dropped to it like she could not help herself.
Good.
I wanted her to look. I wanted her to stare at my cock just like she was doing now.
Then I took what was left of her clothes. Slow enough to torture both of us. Fast enough that I did not give either of us time to remember the word pretend.
I dragged her shorts the rest of the way down her legs. Kissed the inside of her knee. The soft skin of her thigh. I put my mouth back on her pussy just once more, soft and brief, just to hear her cry out and feel her hips jerk, before I stood and lifted her.
Her back hit the wall.
I kissed her while I did it, messy and deep, one hand under her ass, the other braced beside her head. She was hot against me. Bare. Wet. I dragged the head of my cock through her folds and she whimpered, high and broken, every time I passed over her clit.
I winced. Then shuddered. So fucking amazing. Never felt a pussy that good in my entire life.
Then I notched myself at her entrance.
She cried out the second she felt me there.
I pushed in.
Just the head.
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The Hockey Captain’s Unwanted Wife
And I froze.
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Sweat broke across my forehead. My arms locked. My whole body went tight because something was wrong in a way that was too tight, too new, too much like a line I had never thought to ask about.
She clenched around that first inch like she was trying to pull me deeper and keep me out at the same time.
“Why are you stopping?” she cried.
I could barely speak. I was too much in shock. Finding it difficult to believe what was staring me in the face.
“Char-are you a…virgin?”
“Yeah?” She sounded furious. Frustrated. Like I had asked her the stupidest question in the world while I was already inside her. “So what?”
What did she mean so what? A fucking virgin? And she wanted me to fuck her like she was any other girl in my hotel room? What the fuck? I’d never fucked a virgin before. Not even once.
I’d never asked Charlotte about her sex life. She’s gone on dates. I never thought to find out more. Part of me didn’t want to fucking know. Now that I think about it, did it bother me even back then? Did I never like the idea of her and other men together?
“That changes fucking everything.”
I growled it.
I tried to pull back. Not because I did not want her. Fuck, I wanted her. I wanted her so badly that my hands were shaking. I pulled back because I suddenly understood I could hurt her, and the thought of hurting her made me want to put my fist through the wall.
“Luca, I swear on your fucking car, if you pull out now and disappear again, I will not be staying here with you ever again.”
I looked at her like she was insane for even suggesting I could walk out of this now.
Walk out.
After this.
After her.
After I had already tasted her and felt her come on my tongue and lined myself up like a man who had finally stopped lying.
It was hard to hold back. I was losing my fucking mind. She was clenched around the first inch of me like a fist and I had never felt anything like it.
Hot. Impossibly tight. My thighs were shaking with the effort not to slam home.
“I can really hurt you.” It came out broken. “Your pussy is so fucking tight I can’t-”
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like she had been made for this.
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The sound of it was music to my ear. Wet slaps. Her voice breaking. My own breathing gone ragged.
I hooked one of her legs higher and the new angle made her sob into my mouth.
I felt her start to come apart.
That was when my brain caught up to my body.
No condom.
I pulled out fast, cursing, shaking, already reaching.
The loss of her heat made me snarl. She cried out begging for me to come back in.
“Just now bab-fuck-safe-fuck me!”
I almost called her baby. Baby? I was losing it. I needed to remind myself this was one night. Just one night.
I found one. Tore it with my teeth. Rolled it on with hands that did not want to wait. Then I slammed back into her in one stroke and she cried out so loud I almost came from the sound alone.
“Luca-”
I kissed her through it and fucked her harder.
I had never had sex like this.
Not in any city. Not with any woman I had ever taken to bed and forgotten by morning.
This was different. This was her. My best friend. Naked in my arms, virgin tight and furious and begging, and I was losing my mind inside her.
I talked. I could not stop talking.
How good she felt. How long I had wanted this. How I was going to ruin her for anyone else. How she was going to feel me tomorrow. How I wanted her dripping. How I wanted her screaming. How I was not going to last if she kept clenching like that.
When she came she clenched so hard I shouted.
I followed her, with her name tearing out of my throat.
“Charlotte-”
It’s the first time I’ve ever screamed a girl’s name during sex. This was fucking mind-blowing.
I held her through it. Tight. Too tight. Like if I let go she would disappear and take the only honest thing I had done in years with her.
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The Hockey Captain’s Unwanted Wife
In the shower. Until our bodies were soaked. Water dripping down her hair and mine.
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On the desk a second time because she looked at me like she still wanted more and I was gone for her.
Every time I thought I was done, she said my name, or clenched, or reached for me, and I was hard again like I had not just come shouting.
I lost count.
I lost the lie of one night somewhere between the desk and the window.
When we finally collapsed it was because there was nothing left. Sweat. Shaking. Her face buried in my throat. My arm locked around her waist like I still thought she might leave.
The suite smelled like sex and her. The sheets were wrecked. The window still had the print of her hands on it.
We were naked.
Both ruined.
Done in the only way that still felt unfinished.
I pulled her into me anyway.
She did not pull away.
Barcelona kept humming outside the glass, and I fell asleep with my best friend’s bare skin against mine, knowing I had not just crossed the line.
I had burned it. To the fucking ground.
And I already wanted her again.
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Dex Morgan
Dex works to elevate each story with clean writing, emotional balance, and thoughtful flow for readers.