The Marriage Clause (Dirty Sexy Rich 1)

Something familiar yet foreign pressed against the cleft of my behind,

and I instinctively wiggled, pushing against it.

A groan followed as the arm around me tightened. I wasn’t awake yet, but I was slowly becoming aware. The tingle in my belly intensified as I arched against the sweet sensation of that rock-hard length pushing against me, insistent, eager. It’d been so long since I’d felt this wild need, this all-encompassing hunger to have him inside me.

It was too early to fight the need; my brain wasn’t in control just yet. There’d always been something about Luca that had drawn me, even before I was old enough to realize how my future had been sold to the Donato family.

Before that awareness, Luca had simply been that enigmatic older boy with the devilish smile and the blue-eyed stare that made me want things I had no idea how to verbalize.

Don’t wake up.

If I opened my eyes, I’d have to acknowledge how much I missed his touch, how easily I could roll to my back and open my legs for him. The feel of Luca filling me, stretching me like the first time—the memory taunted me. If Luca’s fingers sought out my folds, he would find them damp and ready.

Pretending that none of this was real was better than admitting that I missed him, that a part of me still yearned for the taste of him on my tongue, still fantasized about all the things he used to do to me, how he’d introduced me to the tantalizing world of sexual pleasure.

No. Sex was sex. Orgasms were a dime a dozen if you knew what you were doing. Luca didn’t have some special hold on me.

At least that was what I told myself every day, and I’d keep telling myself that until it became true, because I wasn’t going to marry him.

My eyes snapped open and I tried to scoot away, but his arm remained locked around my waist.

“Luca,” I said, trying to inch out of his sleepy grasp. “Luca...” But if anything, he seemed determined to keep me close. I gasped as he nuzzled the back of my neck, sending an army of dancing soldiers traipsing down my exposed skin. My nipples pearled to aching points, and I think my ovaries popped like a bottle of champagne. His tongue teased the smooth skin where my shoulder met my neck and I shivered, my eyes fluttering shut as my toes curled. His hand crept down my belly, seeking between my legs. Was he still asleep? It was possible. Luca was a deep sleeper. Or he could be wide-awake and playing that he was asleep so he didn’t have to take responsibility for mauling me. If only I wasn’t dripping for more... Suddenly, he moved, expertly rolling on top, his solid weight pressing me into the mattress. My legs automatically opened, leaving my core exposed and accessible.

Damn it.

“Good morning,” he said, dipping to taste my lips before I could offer a word. His cock fit perfectly against me, the only protection between us the thin fabric of our underwear. He rubbed against me and swallowed my moan. The wanton, sex-starved lunatic hiding in my brain screamed, Fuck me, Luca! but I was doing my damnedest to shut that crazy bitch up.

Luca was the most masterful kisser I’d ever locked lips with, and that hadn’t changed. If anything, he’d gotten better. He teased, nibbled, penetrated and commanded, leaving me breathless, all the while driving his cock against my sensitive mons, grinding until I was practically writhing beneath him, nearly ready to beg him to just stick it in already.

Where was my sense of control? No one touched me like Luca. Maybe I could delude myself into believing that the sex hadn’t been as good as I remembered, but with his tongue in my mouth, my legs trembling with need, it was impossible to cling to that flat-out lie.

The thing was, I might not want to marry him, but maybe a romp for old times’ sake wouldn’t be a terrible idea.

I wanted him to bend me over the bed and sink into me, stretching my softness with the thick length of his cock. He could reduce me to a quivering ball of flesh with the talent of that tongue, and he knew it.

“I still remember the way you taste,” he murmured against my lips, allowing only the slightest breath before plunging his tongue back into my mouth, evoking memories of how he’d done exactly that to my insides.

A groan escaped as he traveled to my neck, nibbling and kissing, sucking and licking, and I wanted to push his head between my thighs. I wanted to lose myself in the power of an orgasm only Luca could give.

Seriously, he was like a sex ninja, with skills that were damn near mythic.

For a brief moment, I was content to simply lose myself in the pleasure of being touched by Luca. My entire body yearned to feel his fingers and lips on my skin.

“Kiss me, Luca,” I murmured, expecting him to slide down my belly to sink between my thighs, but instead he returned to my lips, plunging his tongue in, demanding and coaxing an equal response from me.

My nipples tightened to tiny, hard points of aching need as they rubbed against his chest, abraded by the thin fabric of my T-shirt.

His cock, rock solid and urgently pressed against my slit, teased me with the promise of pleasure. I wrapped my legs around him, desperately seeking that delicious friction against my clit. I was so aroused that I could’ve come from a single stroke of his tongue or even a few judicious flicks of his finger against the swollen nub nestled between my folds.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed release or I would go insane.

But just as I was about to lose my dignity and beg, he rolled off and climbed from the bed to dress, leaving me panting, confused and disappointed.

“What are you doing?” I asked, struggling to catch my breath.

“Getting dressed,” he answered, plainly obvious. “I thought we could check out this place called Mama’s. Maybe get some banana pancakes if the wait isn’t more than forty-five minutes. Supposed to be the best in the city.”

“You want breakfast?”

“Yeah, I’m starved.”

Two seconds ago his tongue had been buried in my mouth and now he was all about banana pancakes? What game was he playing? I should be grateful, not insulted, right? I’d told Luca I wasn’t going to have sex with him. If I were an idiot, I’d assume he was being a gentleman by adhering to my wishes, but I knew Luca wasn’t born with a chivalrous bone in his body.

So he was playing me. He wanted to pretend that he wasn’t into me to prove a point.

Fine by me.

“Pancakes sound fab,” I agreed, smiling with false brightness as I scooped up my clothes from last night. I would change in the bathroom. “Give me a second and I’ll be ready.”

He nodded and pulled his trousers on. Luca wearing the same clothes from yesterday seemed like a sign of the coming apocalypse. He hadn’t packed anything because he knew he could just toss down his credit card and buy whatever he needed, but still, seeing him so carefree was throwing me off-kilter.

I escaped the room, disappearing into the communal bathroom once it was free.

The smell of the previous occupant was enough to make me gag, but I was determined to put a good face on things. I couldn’t give Luca the satisfaction of knowing that I kind of hated the hostel. It was definitely more appealing on a website or in a story than in reality. For one, my back was killing me from sharing that crappy mattress. I rolled my shoulders, trying to loosen up. I wanted a long, hot shower...in a private bathroom. One glance at the shower stall that had seen better days told me that’d have to wait.

God, I hadn’t considered myself a snob until this moment—and the realization wasn’t very flattering.

Still, there was no way I was admitting any of this to Luca. For all he knew, I was digging this lifestyle and I wanted to get dreads and a butterfly tattoo on my lower back.

And what the hell? Kissing and nibbling on me like that? That clearly violated our predetermined rules.

But seeing as we’d both been half-asleep, I guessed I could give him a pass—once.

I closed my eyes and swallowed the sigh that threatened to follow. The man had a magic touch.

Would I ever be able to forget how his fingert

ips felt grazing my skin? Not likely, if he kept doing it.

Just get through this week. After that, I can move on.

Dressed and ready, I met Luca outside, the bite in the air nippy enough to make me shiver. I probably couldn’t have picked a more terrible time to visit San Francisco, but I hadn’t been thinking—other than to get as far away from New York as possible. The dreary clouds hovering overhead were anything but cheery. Or warm. Right about now, Luca’s offer of Fiji would be highly appealing—if not for my pride.

So, I’d just have to make the best of San Francisco.

“Mama’s is only a few blocks. I thought we could walk,” he suggested with a cheerful smile. He didn’t wait for my approval, just set out with a healthy stride, leaving me behind. I hustled to catch up just as he started talking. “Man, it’s been a while since I’ve visited the Bay Area for pleasure. In January it always reminds me of London with its damp and chilly weather. Just smell that bracing sea air!” He drew a lungful for emphasis. “Pretty refreshing. You’re right, this was much better than some overrated pristine tropical beach.”

I clenched my teeth to keep them from chattering. I’d always considered myself in decent shape, but my calves were burning along with my lungs, yet I was still freezing. “You can stop with the act, Luca,” I gasped. “I’m onto you. This sucks and you know it.”

But no, he was going to ride this out to the bitter end, I realized, when he insisted, “Not at all. This is one hundred percent me. I love the rain and the damp air. Makes me feel alive.”

My gaze narrowed. I couldn’t actually tell if he was lying. He seemed to genuinely enjoy our four-mile walk uphill. Who was this guy? He had me so turned around I didn’t know which end was up right now.

Luca the uptight businessman had left the building, and in his place was...chill-dude Luca.

This had to be a game. Luca was trying to keep me tottering from one foot to the other. I hated to admit it was working. Not to mention, keeping up this pace was grueling. All I could do was huff and puff and chase after him. I had no more oxygen to argue.