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luca

I scoop her up.

Of course I fucking do.

She’s five-foot-nothing of stubborn pride and bad decision making disguised as confidence, wobbling like a baby deer in the middle of her kitchen all in the name of pretending she’s totally unaffected by me.

Spoiler: she is very affected .

So yeah—I scoop her up like a damn boss. Bridal style. Hero mode. Zero hesitation.

I AM MAN, HERE ME ROAR.

“Put me down!” She gasps, one arm flying automatically around my neck to tether herself. “What are you doing?”

“Carrying you. Obviously .”

“I have legs.”

“Not working ones.”

She glares—but it’s weak. Her fingers curl into the front of my shirt like maybe she’s thinking about protesting, or maybe she just wants to grab a little chest on the way.

“I could do squats with you.”

“Please don’t.”

Grinning, our walk down her hallway is quiet .

Nothing but the creak of the hardwood beneath my feet and her breath fanning over my collarbone. I know where her room is. She pointed it out during that rinky-dink pity tour she gave me while trying to keep her hands to herself. Now I’m nudging the door open with my foot, stepping inside, and doing a quick scan.

Dang.

This room is her .

It smells like the same lemons from the kitchen and clean laundry.

The bed is unmade, but not messy—white linen sheets and comforter in a heap. A stack of books on the nightstand. A water glass. Cold medicine. Box of tissues.

Pair of fuzzy socks on the floor, like she peeled off in a hurry and forgot about them.

I love it here already.

I step closer to the bed and set her down carefully on the edge, like she’s breakable—even though we both know she’s probably stronger than me. She lands with a bounce and immediately tries to cross her legs like she’s not being swept off her feet in every possible way.

She brushes her hair out of her face, cheeks pink, breathing heavy, looking up at me like she’s trying to stay in control of this moment.

Cute.

I drop to my knees in front of her.

Grip her gently by the backs of her knees and tug her forward—slowly, carefully—until she’s perched right at the edge of the bed, legs parted around me, her thighs hugging my sides.

I want my mouth on her pussy so fucking bad…

It hasn’t escaped my mind that we haven’t kissed yet, but I hardly give a shit at the moment. I’ve wanted Nova Montagalo since the second I laid eyes on her and I’m not giving up the chance to put my mouth on her.

I want her breath hitching on my name .

I want her thighs trembling against my jaw.

I want to make nice with Mavis.

Her fingers grasp against the edge of the mattress; she wants to touch me but doesn’t trust herself to do it.

Good.

I don’t want to rush. I want to linger.

I want her undone.

“I’m going to make you feel so fucking good,” I promise. “But if you want me to stop, all you have to do is say so.”

She laughs. “I won’t tell you to stop.”

Music to my fucking ears…

So let’s get those pants off.

I start with her shoes, kneeling in front of her like she’s holy and I’m ready to worship. I tug at the laces of her white-and-green sneakers that go so perfectly with her jacket, but will look even better on the floor. I slip the shoes off gently, setting them aside. Then I run my hands up the length of her calves, slow and steady.

Next up? Her pants.

Curling my fingers into the waistband, pausing just long enough for her to give me a nod. A breathless yes, not spoken aloud, but offered all the same. She lifts her hips. Good girl.

I peel them down inch by inch, baring more of her skin, watching every twitch of her expression like it’s gospel. I can see she’s wrecked; flushed.

I haven’t even touched her where she needs it most.

Her pretty, pretty pussy.

I slide my hands up the outside of her thighs, taking my sweet time. My thumbs brush just beneath the edge of her underwear, and she arches toward me, subtly, like her body’s no longer pretending to behave.

She wants this.

She wants me .

I lean in and kiss the soft skin at the top of her thigh, just beside where I know she’s burning. Her hands twitch again, like she might pull me closer, or push me away, or maybe just bury her fingers in my hair and ride the damn lightning.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

“Luca…” Her head gnashes.

Voice breaks.

“I’ve been thinking about this since the first time I saw you at the ESPYs,” I say, lips brushing her skin. “I’m going to suck on this clit until you’re shaking.”

My mouth is already watering.

I lean forward, pressing a kiss to the mound between her legs, over the silk of her pink panties.

A wet spot grows.

“I’m only communicating with Mavis at the moment,” I inform her solemnly, pressing another kiss through the silk.

Sweet, juicy Mavis.

Nova’s head tips back with a groan. “I swear to God, if you talk to my vagina?—”

“You’ll what?” I murmur, mouthing her over the damp fabric. “Let me stay?”

I lick.

She moans.

Real.

Raw.

No sarcasm for once. Suddenly, all the humor fizzles as she melts into my mouth, exactly where I want her.

I drag the tip of my nose up the center of her, breathing her in like oxygen, like absolution.

“You smell so good, baby,” I whisper. “Mavis is practically purring.”

She lifts her head to meet my gaze. “Do you hear yourself?”

“Loud and clear.” I gaze back. “Fully committed to exorcsizing your demons.”

She snorts, head thumping back onto the pillow. “You’re an idiot. ”

“An idiot on his knees,” I remind her, lifting a brow. “Who’s about to make you come.”

For once, Nova doesn’t argue back, and I reward her by sucking on the fabric between her thighs until I draw a thin moan from her throat.

Run my forefinger along the hem, teasing the sensitive spot before my thumb presses against her clit, moving in a slow, circular motion…

“I guess I won’t argue with you,” she says in a whisper.

“Hmm? I can’t hear you, I’m solely focused on Mavis.” My thumb has her eyes fluttering shut. “She’s very responsive tonight. I think she likes me.”

She chokes on a laugh. “I cannot believe I’m letting you do this.”

“I repeat: on my knees. This is the picture of true romance.”

She opens her eyes to glare at me, but her breathing stutters when I drag my mouth up the inside of her thigh once more, grazing the edge of her panties with my teeth.

Nova is perfect.

Nova and her perfect pussy…

My mouth returns to the edge of her underwear, and I press a slow, deliberate kiss to the damp fabric. Suck.

Suck some more. The goal: getting her wet.

Wet.

Wetter…

She gasps, back arching, one hand fisting the sheets, the other reaching forward and tugging at my hair.

“O-okay,” she stutters. “I take it back.”

I pause. “Take what back?”

“You’re not an idiot.”

I glide my palms down her inner thighs…up again…up her waist and back down. Let them hook inside the waist of the silk, tugging them down her hips.

Over her knees…

Down over her ankles …

Drop them to the floor without a glance because nothing down there matters right now.

I lean closer.

Spread her legs with my large palms, my tan hands a stark comparison to her smooth, pale flesh.

My hands are slow and intentional, as they come up to her thighs again—large, callused, a little shaky if I’m being honest. I spread her gently and move my mouth to her wet pussy, and all I can think as she watches me is: please let this be more than one night because I'm already ruined.

And I haven’t even kissed her yet.