Luca & Marcel (Hostile Takeover 0.50)

“Luca,” I croaked. “Want you to fuck me.”

He wrapped his tongue around my shaft and looked up at me through thick, dark lashes. His eyes were glazed with lust, but somehow he managed to hang on to a shred of control.

“Not yet.” Instead of taking me up on my offer, something any other man would have done in his situation, he continued sucking me, fucking me with a thick finger wet with his saliva, and running his other hand up my chest to toy with my nipples.

It was an overwhelming combination of sensation, and I couldn’t keep from making embarrassing noises. It felt so fucking good.

“Gonna come. Luca!” I tried warning him when I couldn’t take it anymore, but he only doubled down and sucked harder, fingered deeper, until I was screaming out my release and grabbing a handful of his thick hair. “Fuck, oh fuck.”

While I was still gasping to catch my breath, Luca knelt over me and ripped his pants open to shuttle his own hand over his big cock. I scrambled up to return the favor, eager to get my mouth on him and give him even a fraction of what he’d given me.

“Hngh,” he cried as my mouth took in as much of his fat dick as I could manage. He was huge, and I fantasized about that thick cock splitting me open during our next round.

Because there was definitely going to be a next round.

Luca grunted and came quickly, spilling out of the sides of my mouth until I sputtered and pulled off to catch my breath.

“Sorry, sorry,” I said.

Luca’s big hands grabbed the sides of my face, so I met his eyes. “No sorry necessary, sweetheart. That was amazing.”

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and grinned. “Yeah, it was. I say we take a short refueling break and go again.”

Luca’s hand moved around to cup the back of my head. His gentle touch made my heart trip over itself a little.

“I think you need some sleep. It’s late.”

My heart dropped. I’d thought this was the beginning of a hot night of sex with him, but clearly, he was giving me the polite brush-off. “Oh. Yeah. Sure.”

I moved to climb off the bed, but Luca’s hand landed in the center of my chest to stop my progress. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I was going to get out of your hair. Go back to my room.” I bit my lip to keep myself from begging to stay with him longer. There was something about the big, muscular man that made me feel… special. Protected. Appreciated.

And maybe I could nurture that connection tomorrow. Maybe he’d be open to more time together if he had time alone to think about it.

“I want you to stay,” Luca said, nudging my naked and spent body between the sheets of his bed. “Stay here with me tonight. Let me keep you close… okay?”

Ahh, there was the insecure teddy bear again. And he wanted me to stay with him, in his bed, by his side.

I pretended to think it over. “Okay, but sleepovers cost extra,” I said.

It took him a minute to realize I was teasing him, but then he pounced on me and began kissing me everywhere again.

We didn’t go to sleep for hours and hours.

When we woke up, there was no time to talk about the night we’d spent naked in each other’s arms. It was all business, and Luca’s cousin Curtis wasn’t a nice man.

He was out for Luca’s millions. And he played hardball.

7

Luca

In addition to enjoying each other’s bodies all night, Marcel and I also talked until he finally fell asleep midsentence. I learned about his family’s origins in Cameroon and his parents’ relocation to the United States with his father’s job for a large hotel chain. Of course, I perked right up when he mentioned his father working in the hotel industry, and then I loved every minute of Marcel’s knowing laugh.

“You’re so predictable. But I love how passionate you are about it,” he said, peppering my face with kisses and making my chest flood with warmth.

I’d accepted a long time ago that I was borderline obsessive about my work, and I never minded when people like Jillian teased me good-naturedly about it. But having someone understand and even appreciate that passion was something I hadn’t ever expected.

I told him how I’d gotten into the hotel business through one of my professors in graduate school and how I’d lucked into an inheritance that had helped me invest in my first property. We shared stories of some of the things we found most strange about moving through life with this level of wealth. He wasn’t obscenely wealthy himself, but he was the right-hand man of a multibillionaire venture capitalist.

He told me more about his job and Grey Blackwood’s never-ending pursuit of success to the detriment of his personal life. Then Marcel had lifted a knowing brow at me, and I’d explained it wasn’t easy to have a personal life when your work was so all-consuming.