Page 19 of Saint (The Divine Ruin #2)

Luca

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I answer without looking. “Ravello.”

"Boss, it’s Frank. We’ve been tracking the Moore girl like you asked.” His voice is low, professional. “She just left lunch with her mother. They’re headed to Serene Waters Spa in Albany.”

I sit up straighter in my leather chair, pushing aside the contract I was reviewing. "You’re sure?"

“Positive. Heard them talking about massages. They have a two o’clock appointment.”

I check my watch. It’s 1:00. “Keep eyes on them. I’m on my way.”

I end the call and grab my jacket, my mind already racing ahead. This is the opportunity I’ve been waiting for. Lily thinks she can run from this connection between us, but she’s about to learn how persistent I can be.

Within minutes, I’m in my Bentley, speeding toward Albany from Woodstock. The highway blurs past as I push well beyond the speed limit, calling in a favor from a cop I own to ensure no one tries to pull me over.

Serene Waters is upscale, discreet—and the owner owes me too many favors to count. I park in the reserved section without regard for whether I’m authorized and walk through the front doors at precisely 1:55.

The receptionist—young, blonde, instantly intimidated—looks up with a practiced smile. “Welcome to Serene Waters. Do you have an appointment?"

“I need to speak with the owner. Now.” My tone leaves no room for argument.

“I’m afraid Ms. Winters is with a client?—"

“I don’t care if she’s with the fucking Pope. Get her. Now.”

The girl’s eyes widen, and she scurries away. Two minutes later, a woman in her fifties with immaculate silver hair approaches, a professional smile firmly in place.

“Mr. Ravello,” she says, recognizing me immediately. “This is unexpected. How can I help you?"

“Lily Moore has a massage appointment. Which room?”

Her smile falters. “I’m afraid I can’t?—”

I step closer, lowering my voice. “Let me be clear, Ms. Winters. Your husband’s gambling debts to my organization are substantial enough that I could own this place three times over.

So you can either tell me which room and ensure the masseuse doesn’t show up, or I can make a call that ensures you don’t have a business by tomorrow. ”

The color drains from her face. “Room seven. Down the hall, the last door on the left. The masseuse is already there."

“Then call her out. Make sure she doesn’t give me away.”

She nods quickly. “Of course, Mr. Ravello.”

I follow her directions, finding a small locker room where I can change. I strip down to just my boxer briefs and wrap a towel around my waist, then grab a bottle of massage oil from a nearby shelf. A quick glance in the mirror confirms I look the part—or close enough for what I have planned.

Outside room seven, I pause, listening. I can hear soft meditation music playing inside. I knock gently.

“Come in,” Lily’s voice calls out.

I enter to find the room dimly lit with candles, the air heavy with the scent of lavender and sandalwood. Lily lies face down on the massage table, a sheet draped over her lower half, her bare back exposed. Her face is turned away from me, nestled in the cushioned face rest.

My cock hardens immediately at the sight of her smooth skin and the delicate curve of her spine. I close the door silently behind me, setting the bottle of oil on the warmer.

“I’ll be with you in just a moment,” I say, pitching my voice higher than usual, just enough to disguise it.

She murmurs an acknowledgment, completely unaware.

I warm the oil between my palms, then place my hands on her shoulders. She tenses momentarily at the contact, then relaxes with a soft sigh.

“God, that feels good,” she whispers as I begin to work the tension from her muscles.

I remain silent, working my way down her back with firm, deliberate strokes. Her skin is like silk beneath my fingers, and I have to force myself to maintain the pretense of professionalism—for now.

“You have strong hands,” she comments, and I bite back a smile, continuing my ministrations.

I move lower, my fingers tracing the curve where her back meets her ass. The sheet covers her, but I slowly, deliberately push it down, exposing the perfect roundness of her backside. When she doesn’t protest, I grow bolder, massaging the firm globes of her ass with both hands.

She makes a slight sound—surprise, perhaps, but not objection. Taking it as encouragement, I work my way back up her body, my hands sliding along her sides, deliberately brushing the outer swells of her breasts.

Her breathing changes, becoming heavier. “That’s... that’s not the usual?—”

She turns her head, twisting to look over her shoulder, and our eyes meet. Her blue eyes widen in shock, her lips parting in a gasp.

“Luca!”

I press a finger to my lips. “Shh, baby girl. Let me take care of you."

“What are you—how did you—” Her voice is a frantic whisper, but she doesn’t scream, or call for help.

“I told you I wasn’t going anywhere.” I continue massaging her, my hands moving more purposefully now. “I told you this thing between us isn’t something you can run from.”

Her eyes are still wide, conflicted. “My mother is in the next room!"

“Then I suggest you stay quiet.” I untie my towel, letting it drop to the floor. Her gaze travels down my body, lingering on my obvious arousal straining against my boxer briefs.

“Luca, we can’t?—”

"We can. We will.” I run my hands down her sides again. “Unless you tell me to stop. Do you want me to stop, Lily?”

She bites her lip, hesitating. Then, almost imperceptibly, she shakes her head.

“Turn over,” I command softly.

With trembling hands, she obeys, clutching the sheet to her chest as she rolls onto her back. I gently pry her fingers loose, pulling the sheet away to reveal her perfect breasts, her flat stomach, the lace panties she still wears.

“Beautiful,” I murmur, pouring more oil into my palms. I start at her shoulders again, working my way down to her breasts. Her nipples harden under my touch, and she arches slightly, a soft moan escaping her lips.

“Quiet, remember?” I remind her, circling her nipples with my thumbs.

She nods, biting her lip harder as I continue my exploration of her body. When I reach the waistband of her panties, I look up, meeting her eyes. The desire I see there matches my own.

I hook my fingers into the lace and slowly pull them down her legs, revealing the trimmed dark curls between her thighs. She’s already wet, her arousal evident.

“Spread your legs for me, baby girl.”

Her thighs part hesitantly, then wider as my hands encourage them. I kneel between them, my face level with her pussy.

“Luca,” she whispers, half-warning, half-plea.

I respond by lowering my mouth to her center, tasting her for the first time in days. She gasps, her hands flying to my hair, not pushing me away but pulling me closer. Her taste is intoxicating—sweet, musky, and uniquely hers.

I work her with my tongue, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves that makes her squirm. Her thighs tense around my head as I suck gently on her clit, then use my tongue to trace patterns that have her fighting to stay quiet.

“Oh God,” she whispers, her voice strained. “Luca, I can’t?—”

I slide a finger inside her, then two, feeling how tight she is around me. It’ll take me months of stretching this pussy out before she stops feeling like a fucking virgin.

Her breathing becomes more ragged as I work her with both my mouth and my fingers, curling them to find the spot that makes her back arch off the table. I can feel her getting close, her inner walls clenching around my fingers.

"That’s it, baby girl,” I murmur against her wet flesh. “Come for me. Let me taste you.”

She comes with a muffled cry, her hand pressed against her mouth, her body shuddering beneath me. I don’t stop, drawing out her pleasure until she’s trembling, pushing weakly at my shoulders.

“Too much,” she gasps. “I can’t... too sensitive.”

I rise, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand, looking down at her flushed face, her heavy-lidded eyes. She’s never looked more beautiful than she does right now, marked by the pleasure I’ve given her.

“This is just the beginning,” I tell her, my voice rough with desire. “You think you need time? Fine. But don’t tell me you don’t want this—want me.”

She stares up at me, still catching her breath. “I never said I didn’t want you,” she whispers. “I said it was complicated.”

I lean down, capturing her mouth in a deep kiss, letting her taste herself on my lips. “Life is complicated, baby girl. But this—” I take her hand and press it against my hard length “—this is simple.”

A knock at the door makes us both freeze.

“Lily?” Her mother’s voice calls from the hallway. “Are you almost finished? Our facial appointments are in fifteen minutes.”

Without missing a beat, Lily shouts back. “I’ve increased my massage time, Mom, and cancelled my facial. I’ll catch up afterwards.”

That’s my girl.