The only response I can give him is a moan as I bite down on my lip, the butterflies spiraling in my core, fluttering up through my chest and my limbs, filling my lungs as they replace the oxygen I’m trying so desperately to find.

This only encourages him as he circles his thumb faster, his other hand gripping my waist, tugging me against him as he grinds into my ass.

“You’re so fucking wet. Soaking through these panties,Princesa.”

I’ve never had an orgasm from someone’s fingers alone, but with Luca grunting and moaning heavily in my ear, it doesn't take long for the coil to tighten in my core. I feel like a ticking time bomb, seconds away from exploding as the pressure builds inside me.

“Luca,please,” I whine.

“My name sounds so pretty coming from your lips,” he coos, nipping at my earlobe.

Despite only rubbing each other through our clothes, it feels like the most carnal thing I’ve ever experienced. Every hair on my body is pricked with goosebumps, my body’s reaction to the way my orgasm teeters on the precipice—ready to bubble over, sending me over the edge and into oblivion.

“Let me hear it again,” he pleads. “I want to hear it as you come.”

My jaw is slack as the strangled moan of his name leaves my lips, my climax washing over me as I slam my head back into his broad shoulder. His name escapes my mouth again on the edge of a sigh, my chest heaving as I continue to roll my hips into him. Our bodies maneuver in sync as we pant shakily together.

My cheeks are flushed, my hair messy from rubbing against his shoulder, and I can feel the slick between my legs.

He only touched me on top of my panties, but somehow, I felt him everywhere.

“My next class,” Luca says, pulling his hands from me as he adjusts his disheveled clothing and hair. “They’ll be coming soon.”

I frown. “But…what aboutyou?”

As the clarity washes over me, so does the realization that he didn’t come with me. Every fiber of my being wants to hear what he sounds like when he comes.

“There’s no time.”

I hum gently as I watch him swiftly compose himself without looking at me. My high comes down, and I’m empty only momentarily before the dread takes place.

Running my fingers through my hair, I avert my gaze to my shoes as I brush some strands behind my ear. I quickly try to smooth out my skirt and blazer as I readjust the strap of my bag before I feel a tickle against my wrist, making me lift my head to stare up at Luca, who watches me closely. His fingers brush my skin ever so faintly, a reassuring but distant gesture.

He probably wants nothing to do with me.

He’s realized he’s made a mistake. Why can’t I?

“Are you okay?”

“Should I not be?” I ask softly.

“Iwantyou to be.”

My mouth parts in awe at his words, not expecting them in the slightest. They’re nearly the last thing I thought would leave his lips, and it sends a warm current rippling through the pits of my stomach. Like someone has lit a match inside me.

“I’m okay.” I nod, blinking up at him. “Are you?”

“Sí.”

“You don’t seem okay,” I rasp, biting at the inside of my cheek.

“If we get caught…” He trails off. “We can’t get caught, Finley. This… It can’t happen again.”

My mind, mybody, is still reeling from what just happened. I can practically still feel his fingers between my legs. All these things that made me feel good made him full of regret. He regrets me.

“Right,” I manage to croak out, placing my hand on the door to steady myself as well as flee.

His hands halt me, and for a moment, my heart skips from his touch—until I realize that he’s smoothing out my blazer and gently combing his fingers through the ends of my hair to tame it. And for some reason, the stinging feeling of rejection consumes me, the feeling of not being good enough. I know he’s right—this was a monumentally bad choice, but my chest seizes at the thought of him never touching me again.