Page 41 of Siren's Heart

I sigh, heavily blinking away more tears. I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm just not in a place where I can trust him with that blindly. He wouldn't be the first to promise me the world and crumble over the pressure the public opinion places on our relationship. And I can’t even blame them. I get it. But I can’t go through that again.

"Now, how about we take a shower and have a nice cuddle?" he asks, pressing his lips against my forehead. I take a deep breath and close my eyes for a moment. This conversation wasn't really productive, but I decide that it is time to let it rest.

Let him sleep over it and have him talk to his manager and Asher. Now that he's dating Kayla, I guess he can report on the media circus from first-hand experience. And if Luca changes his mind then, if I only get a single night with him, I'll make damn sure to enjoy it.

"That sounds lovely," I press out, but I know I can’t get the forced grin on my face to reach my eyes. And his frown tells me he sees right through me, but I just can't muster up more enthusiasm.

Another sigh leaves my lips, and I nod, shuffling to get up. But Luca buries his hand in my hair and pulls me back down, holding my face in both hands and forcing me to look at him.

"It's going to be fine, Millie." His eyes tell me that he’s convinced of that.

I want to believe him. I really do.

Closing my eyes, I nod in his hands ever so slightly, which seems to be enough for him. In one swift move, he stands up, and I can’t help but let my eyes follow him as he rounds the bed. The way his muscles move under his skin is downright hypnotizing. Confused, I watch him round the bed and come to a stop right next to me. With a grin on his face, he scoots his arms under my knees and ribs and suddenly lifts me, bridal style.

Squealing, I kick my legs in the air as he carries me through my flat, and walks right by my bathroom.

"What?" He asks with a smile on his face when I start to giggle. Wordlessly, I just point at the door, and he turns right back around, almost making me kick the vase holding his bouquet off a dresser.

"I have some ice cream in my freezer. What do you say about dessert?" I ask Luca when he trudges into the living room. I'm already cozied up under a thick blanket, waiting for him to join me so we can pretend to watch TV while cuddling up on the couch.

I feared that heavy topic would hang over us for the rest of the evening, like a black cloud pulling the mood down, but as soon as we stepped into the shower, it just evaporated.

"I’ll go get it." He smiles and makes a beeline for the kitchen. I can't help but follow him with my eyes. Like a magnet, he pulls my eyes on himself magically. He didn't bother putting on any clothes after the shower, and now I finally have the light and am in the right frame of mind to admire him a bit. I was… distracted, before.

He looks like a dream. Tilting my head, I drink him in. His round butt and muscular shoulders. The way his muscles move when he walks.

Thank God for the open-concept apartment that allows me to watch him in the kitchen, even from the couch.

Look away, Millie, you're almost salivating, I scold myself. I turn to the TV and listen to him rummaging through my freezer and cupboards until finally, he steps into my sight with a pint of cookie dough ice cream, and a spoon, his cock right at my eye level. And now it’s not only the ice cream I find eye-watering.

Damn, even flaccid, he's an impressive size.

I lift a corner of my fuzzy blanket for him, and he sets both items in his hand on my coffee table where we can reach them easily. He climbs under the blanket, arranging us until he’s satisfied, with him sitting behind me, his arm tight around my middle, and me sitting between his legs.

It's like I'm covered by two blankets, a fluffy one from the front and a giant, heated one from the back. I giggle when he pushes me forward as he reaches toward the table to get the ice cream and spoon, then back up as he grabs them.

"Which movie are we pretending to watch?" he asks curiously. He pries the packaging open, flinging the lid in the general direction of the table, cursing under his breath when it catches on the edge of the table and falls to the ground.

"Something undemanding, please," I say, hiding a yawn behind my hand. It's not that late yet, but I'm exhausted. All the fun we had at the studio, the mind-blowing orgasms, and the emotional rollercoaster. "My brain isn't quite braining anymore."

"Alright," he says and drops a kiss on the top of my head.

I feel him chuckle behind me and reach for the remote, handing it to him over my shoulder.

"I trust you to make the right call." I snuggle further into him, when the sound of a familiar series intro coming from the TV makes me blink, confused. "Seriously? I watched this when I was a child!"

"Me too." He scoops up some ice cream, watching his hands over my shoulder, and holds the spoon in front of my mouth. "You wanted something undemanding; here it is. Now say aa-h." I open my mouth and grab his hand to eat the ice cream off the spoon because I’m scared he can’t see properly and would ram the utensil into my throat. Nothing against deep-throating, but I’d rather have his cock in there than a metal spoon.

"Boring," he says through a gentle laugh and scoops up more for himself.

He continues like that, feeding me ice cream and then eating a spoon himself. When nothing more is left, he places the empty container on the far side of the couch and snakes his arms around my middle, burying his face in the crook of my shoulder, his breath fanning over my skin, sending chills all over it. His hand starts drawing small circles over my stomach, and I sigh contentedly.

I rest my hand on his thigh, the other one covering one of his, and he turns his hand until our fingers can intertwine, his thumb caressing my skin.

I love this. Sitting in my living room, indulging in nostalgia after some good orgasms, while the world outside continues without us.

Hope blooms in my heart like a cactus when it rains in the desert.

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