Page 92 of Spring Tide

“Is that what you needed?” I ask.

She scratches at my chest, one hand moving up to tangle into my hair as she pulls me in for a kiss.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

My hips snap up to meet hers, deep and frantic. I rub tight little circles into her clit and feel so fucking proud of myself when I hear the sound she makes. It’s a low, deep moan that nearly has her collapsing on top of me.

“Luca, I’m gonna come.”

“Come for me, baby,” I say, the words barely scraping out of my throat. I force myself to take a breath, refocusing on Harper’s pleasure. The last time I made her come, she told me she wanted to hear my thoughts while we’re together like this. “You’re doing so well,” I say. “Feels so fucking perfect.”

She whimpers and tightens around me then, moaning my name one last time before she falls apart.

“That’s it, Harps. Let me feel you squeeze around my cock.”

Her walls flutter and tighten once more before I’m met with a sweet gush of liquid heat. At the same time, I tip over my own edge, releasing into the condom in heavy spurts.

It takes a few long heartbeats for her to slide into the spot beside me. We’re both breathless now, panting as we come down from our mutual high.

“Wow,” she murmurs, shifting so her head’s resting on my heaving chest. We’re both damp with sweat, hot to the touch, faces flushed. She stares up at me, asks, “Can we do that again?”

“As many fucking times as you want,” I chuckle, wrapping one arm around her shoulder. “Just give me a little time to recover.”

“Five minutes, then?”

I choke on my own saliva. “You really want to kill me, don’t you?”

“No, I want to fuck you,” she says with a cheeky smile. “And then I want to kill you.”

27

HARPER

Wakingup wrapped in Luca’s arms has officially become my favorite pastime. He’s so big and warm and cuddly, and his sturdy hands have found a home around my hips. Sighing, I snuggle in closer, nuzzling against him until our bodies are locked tight.

His breath whispers against the shell of my ear. He rasps my name and says, “Morning, gorgeous.”

I stir, turning in his arms until we’re face-to-face. Raising one hand, I trace the contours of his jawline with the flat of my palm.

“You know,” I say in a soft voice, barely waiting for the morning fog to clear from his eyes. “Before we started this whole thing, you told me that everyone has a type.”

He blinks, brow quirking. “I did.”

“Well, I’m dying to know what you think your type is.”

He pulls back a fraction of an inch. “Let me try to figure out the best way to put this.”

“What do you mean? Is it something I’m not gonna like?”

“It’s not that.” He presses a palm to my cheek. “It’s just, I like being alone.”

My eyes widen, confusion settling in. “Okay?”

“What I mean is—” He placates me with a soft smile. “—when I spend a lot of time alone, I don’t experience the same type of loneliness that some people do. Actually, I just feel like I can finally be myself for once. I don’t have to worry about what other people think of me or if the things I’m saying and doing are coming off a certain way. I can justbe.”

I give him a nod of encouragement. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Even when I’m around my family, who I fucking love, there’s always some sort of expectation there. I have to be the older brother, the strong one, the supportive one who keeps his shit together. Then, when I’m at home around Taylor, there are still things I have to keep to myself. Things I can’t talk to her about for one reason or another, like with my injury, money issues, and now this fucking bullshit with our brother.”

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