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“Ticklish?” Luca asks teasingly, and Juliette stubbornly shakes her head.

Luca does the motion again, fingertips digging into Juliette’s skin, and she gasps out a laugh, more fluttering against her chest as she desperately bites it back. Luca chuckles too and finally takes mercy on her, returning her splayed hands to the arc of her shoulders.

Luca is careful. Slow. Deliberate. She works along the subtle grooves of Juliette’s muscles, the dip of her waist, and the knobs of her bones. Her fingers sweep beneath the thin fabric of the bandeau, and her touch causes sparks to scamper across Juliette’s skin. It’s intimate, soft, but Juliette longs for a return to her lower back, where tightness is becoming more apparent.

Luca turns her right hand over, and her knuckles drag down the ridge of Juliette’s spine, entirely too light. Juliette’s breath hitches as Luca’s hand goes lower and lower until she stops at the band of Juliette’s shorts.

“Is this okay?” Luca asks again, her knuckles lifting to barely touch.

Juliette hums her approval.

“I can’t hear you,” Luca says, voice gravelly and teasing. Her thumb traces random shapes against her skin.

A shiver ripples up Juliette’s spine, desire snaking through her, and she turns her head to look at Luca. She’s staring at Juliette, intensely focused, like she’s on court.

“Luca, please,” Juliette rasps.

Luca inhales sharply and swallows. She lays her hands flat on Juliette’s lower back, her thumbs dangerously close to sliding beneath her shorts.

Juliette wishes she would.

Luca digs in and presses her weight into the tense muscles spasming there. Juliette bites the pillow as the heat builds beneath her skin, pushing the tension and agony out.

She can’t stop moaning. It’s torturously good. She knows whatthis must sound like, but she doesn’t care. And just when she thought Luca’s fingertips couldn’t dig deeper, they do. It’s like she’s carving out the hurt herself, encouraging warmth to grow instead.

Luca’s fingers skim right, toward her hip, and pain blooms where there was once exquisite pleasure. Juliette jolts, head jerking up so fast her vision bursts with black spots.

“Hey,” Luca says, her hands soothing down her back, grounding Juliette. It’s comforting as the pain fades away. “Tender spot?” she asks, her knees shifting as she finds a better position to look.

“Yeah, that hurt,” Juliette says.

Luca clicks her tongue, and the pad of her thumb brushes over the spot. It’s a light touch, not enough to hurt, but Juliette flinches anyway. “There’s a bruise,” Luca says, “I’m sorry I missed it.” Her other hand is still tracing looping circles up and down her back.

Juliette drops her head back down into the pillow. “It’s fine.”

“Tell me if this hurts, okay?”

Luca waits until Juliette gives a verbal confirmation and then she begins to trace the outline of the bruise. She spirals out, gently applying more pressure as she goes.

“It’s all right. I think the pain startled me,” Juliette says, swallowing hard. Her body is nearly boneless, but her mind is struggling with the intimacy of this. The tenderness and softness.

Luca hums softly and doesn’t stop her soothing touches up and down her back. Her other hand spirals away from Juliette’s bruised hip, and she starts another line up her spine. She doesn’t stop at her shoulders, though; her hands cup the back of Juliette’s neck. “I can feel you thinking,” Luca whispers, her breath warm against Juliette’s shoulder.

Juliette starts to grit her teeth, but Luca’s thumb scoops into the base of her neck and wriggles upward. It’s such a shocking sensation that her jaw drops, pleasure clouding her mind, and she can’t stop the way she mewls under Luca’s touch. It’s hot like an oven and Juliette is butter, melting into liquid.

Luca maneuvers her thumbs to curve in the dips behind Juliette’s ears, and her eyes roll.

This is orgasmic.

Juliette tries to turn her face away, heat burning on her cheeks, but Luca’s oil-slick fingers catch her chin. She could easily turn away, but she doesn’t want to—not with Luca staring at her with naked, unbridled longing.

Luca’s chest rises and falls shallowly. Then her thumb reaches up and brushes against Juliette’s lower lip, and without thinking, Juliette’s tongue darts out. She just misses, but she gets the not entirely unpleasant taste of coconut.

“Oh,” Luca whispers, “you’re beyond gorgeous, Jules.”

When Juliette turns her head this time, Luca lets her. The compliment is like whiskey down her throat—it’s pleasant but still stings. She isn’t shy about her looks, and she knows she’s conventionally attractive; enough men and women have fallen all over her to ensure she has no self-confidence issues. But the way Luca says it… it’s as if she’s seeing the sun for the first time. Awed, beguiled, completely taken aback by the depth of beauty.

The power they hold over each other is an intimidating anchor, and Juliette never realized it until this moment.