Chapter 29

29

Luca

She drags her tongue down the demarcation between my pecs, and I feel the tug all the way down to the crown of my dick. My cock lengthens and the blood drains to my groin. I still, but don't draw away. She tugs on my nipple, and my entire body seems to come alive. I can feel my pulse in my throat, at my temples, even in my balls.

"Fuck. You're killing me, Angel."

She makes a sound at the back of her throat which is the most erotic thing I have heard in a long time. Then she cuddles in closer, as if she's trying to crawl into my body. A melting sensation squeezes my ribcage. I continue to caress her hair until her breathing is back to normal. She curls her fingers into the front of my shirt, then rubs her cheek against my chest. My pants feel too tight, and I know I need to get us out of here before my cock decides to poke its way through my zipper. I reach for my door handle, but she grips my bicep.

"Kiss me," she says in a low voice. "Kiss me, Luca."

"If I do, there's no guarantee we'll get out of this car anytime soon."

"Please." She wraps her fingers around the base of my neck and pulls my head down toward her. I gaze into those tawny eyes of hers and my heart stutters. We share breath for a second, then another. Then, she flicks out her tongue and licks my lips.

A groan rumbles up my chest. I twist her curls around my fingers and tug. Her head falls back. Her pupils dilate. Her breath hitches and I run my nose up her jawline. I inhale the scent of crushed roses, and every part of me seems to come alive. I press my lips to the corner of her lips, then nibble down on her lower lip. She tries to deepen the kiss, but I keep her in place with my hold on her hair. She scowls at me from under her heavy eyelids, and my already-shattered heart seems to splinter further. I brush my lips over hers, holding her gaze. She swallows, and the pulse at the base of her throat speeds up. She thrusts out her breasts, and I don't need to look down to know that her nipples are outlined against the fabric of her T-shirt.

She parts her lips and I sweep my tongue inside. I kiss her deeply, lose myself in her, and draw her closer, until she's pressed into my chest, and I can't tell where she begins and I end. Her hair flows over my arm, her breath sears my skin, and the curve of her hip under the palm of my hand quivers and draws me in, seducing me, coaxing me to grab at her butt and squeeze. A moan bleeds from her lips, and lust detonates in my gut. I slide my palm under her shirt and flatten my fingers against the soft swell of her stomach. Her skin is so soft, I might as well have dipped my fingers in silken cream. I tilt my head and deepen the kiss even more, when there's a rap on the window.

I tear my mouth from hers and swivel to face the window. The glass is dark, so our actions wouldn't have been very visible, although the outline of our figures would have made it clear what we were up to. I know it's Massimo outside. I pull my hand out from under her shirt and smooth it down. Then, I kiss her one last time. "Ready?"

"No," she breathes. "I don't think I can do this."

"You're stronger than you think, tesoro mio ." I press a kiss to her forehead, tuck her hair behind her ear, and scan her face one last time to make sure she's okay. Then I unhook my belt, push the door open, and step out with her in my arms.

Massimo moves back to give us space.

"You all set?" He glances from my face to hers, then back at me.

I nod.

"The jet's fueled, the pilot's waiting, and I think I can hold off for at least six hours before Michael discovers the jet is not where it's supposed to be."

I wince.

"It's better than what happened at Seb's wedding, when everyone landed at the town hall for his supposedly secret wedding," Massimo points out.

"That's what happens when you try to sneak away and get married under the nose of the famiglia, " I scoff.

"You're certainly setting the bar high." He rubs his chin. "Although, looking at the trouble you're going to, I'm glad I'm not going to be eloping."

"So, you're going in for the arranged marriage with the Camorra princess?"

"Not a chance." He scowls. "I won't be pushed into something unless I am a hundred-percent sure of it. And right now, marriage isn't on top of the agenda for me."

"But you did declare that you wouldn't be opposed to an arranged marriage."

"That was then." He glances between me and Jeanne again. "Watching the lot of you find true love?—"

"We're not in love." Both Jeanne and I chorus together. Then we turn to look at each other, before turning to Massimo, who's watching us with a bemused look on his face.

"What?" I growl.

"Nothing." His smile widens.

Fucker watches us with a secret gleam in his eyes like he knows something I don't.

"Spit it out already," I grumble.

He chuckles. "Nothing the two of you don't know already."

"Not sure what you're trying to say here."

He grabs my shoulder with his massive paw and squeezes hard. Good thing we are equally matched in strength; a weaker guy might have keeled over with the pressure.

"Good luck, fratello. " He grins. "If you want to beat the news of your elopement, which is probably on its way to our family as we speak, you might want to get on that jet, pronto."

Forty-five minutes later, we land at a private airstrip a few kilometers outside Valleta, the Maltese capital.

I turn to the woman who's sleeping in the seat next to me. I let her sleep as the engines of the plane wind down. Stillness creeps through the space as I take in the curve of her lips, the flush of her cheeks, the brush of her eyelashes, which flutter as she awakens and yawns.

She meets my gaze and smiles, then straightens.

"We're here?"

"We are."

I unsnap my seatbelt and rise to my feet then hold out my hand. "Ready?"