Page 101 of Beauty and the Daddy
The pressure builds again, faster this time, more intense.
Luca reaches between us, his thumb finding my clit, circling in time with how he pounds me.
"You're close," he says. "I can feel you tightening around me."
"Yes," I gasp.
The angle changes again; the world does, too.
Heat stacks on heat, pressure on pressure, and I tip just as he grips my hips tighter and rams into me—helpless, greedy, a girl swallowed by a wave she begged to meet.
"I'm coming, Luca…God, I'm coming…" I scream and it starts right there and ripples outward, stealing my breath.
The orgasm crashes through me like a wrecking ball. It ripples like violence, consuming everything in its path. I try to keep looking at him like he asked, but the pleasure drags my eyes shut, and I shatter beautifully anyway.
My body arches, and I scream his name as the pleasure becomes almost unbearable.
"Fuck, Belle," he groans as my inner muscles clench around him. "That's it, milk my cock, just like that."
He follows me over the edge with a guttural sound, his hips jerking as he empties himself inside me. I can feel the heat of him, the pulse of his release, and it triggers another smaller wave of pleasure that has me trembling beneath him.
For a long moment, we stay like that, joined and panting, his forehead pressed to mine. I feel drunk, dizzy with sensation, too sated to form a single coherent thought.
Eventually, he rolls to the side, taking me with him so I'm sprawled across his chest.
"That was..." I trail off, unable to find the right word.
"Yeah," he agrees, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
Okay, fine. Luca Moretti's my weakness.
We stay like that, breathing each other's air, hearts trying to figure out how not to burst. Time goes soft around the edges. I stroke the back of his neck; he kisses my jaw like he's grateful I exist.
I should feel weird about this—about how quickly I went from trying to sneak out to letting him fuck me into next week—but I don't. It feels right. Like this is where I'm supposed to be.
Which is exactly the problem.
Reality comes crashing back.
The appointment.
The baby.
The lies stacking up.
"I need to use the bathroom." I press a quick kiss to his chest before disentangling myself.
He makes a noise of protest but lets me go. I grab his discarded shirt from the floor and slip it on, padding to the bathroom on shaky legs.
I lean over the sink until my pulse stops tap-dancing. I splash some cold water and stare at the mirror. I look thoroughly fucked and not the least bit sorry about it.
The secret I carry starts to feel a whole lot of fucked up. Why am I hiding it, again?
I need to be sure… before I march out there to tell him. Maybe now's the time. Then I crouch to the cabinet where I hid it. The little test I swore I wouldn't look at again. I pull it out.
Two lines. Still. Like a headline I can't outrun.
Luca and I keep getting closer to something real, something honest, but the lies between us grow more tangled by the day.
