Page 69 of His Game (His Obsession 1)

"Touch me, amore."

He sounded desperate, almost pleading, and euphoria swept through me to hear it, to know he needed me like I needed him. When I got too caught up in the colors of my thoughts and didn't react fast enough, he grabbed my hand and pressed it against his cock. My fingers locked around him, and I was rewarded when Luca tangled his fingers in my hair, tilting my head so he could ravage my mouth.

Footsteps sounded to my left, and before I knew what was happening, Luca had his gun pointed at the guy, his other hand still wrapped in my hair and my hand still around his cock. "Find another fucking bathroom," he growled.

I giggled as the guy put up his hands and slowly backed away. Jesus Christ, what the hell was wrong with me?

Oh, yeah. I was drugged.

We were moving again. Luca walked me backward through a doorway, kicking it shut with his foot. I glanced around and saw a sink with a long, black counter next to a couple of open stalls. Urinals lined the opposite wall.

The heavy beat of the music pulsed through speakers in the ceiling. The fluorescent light above us flickered, only one dim bulb still working. But for a men's room, it wasn't as gross as I'd expected.

Luca's hands were in my hair, and his mouth came back to mine. My lips were already swollen and bruised, but I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissing him back with all the love in my heart. I felt absolutely euphoric. I knew it was the drugs, but I didn't care. At this moment, I wanted to believe the illusion.

He kissed me until I couldn't breathe, his hands traveling over my back and down to my ass and back again. My blood surged to the surface, sensitizing my skin until I could feel every tiny nuance of his touch. I wanted to be naked. To feel the soft material of his suit against my skin. I could've been kissing him for seconds or hours. I had no idea. I just knew it felt so fucking good...

With a desperate moan, he pulled away. "I'm sorry," he told me.

Before I could ask him what he was sorry about, he spun me around and placed both of my palms flat on the counter on either side of the sink. He kicked my feet apart, spreading my legs, then he pulled my hips back. My lace panties were ripped from my body. His hands were on my thighs, and I felt the cold air from the A/C on my bare ass and the head of his cock sliding through the folds of my pussy. I shivered with expectation, every nerve in my body tingling. There was pressure as he pushed inside of me, giving me no time to adjust to his size. I gasped as he pulled out just a little, then pushed in again, a little further this time.

Lifting my head, I watched him in the mirror as he worked his way inside of me. His jaw was clenched. His eyes on my ass. When he finally slid all the way in, I couldn't stop the moan that escaped me. Blue eyes shot up, meeting mine in the mirror, and I was shocked at what I saw there.

Sorrow. Desperation. Anger.

Before I could ask him what was wrong, he dropped his eyes and started to move. His fingers dug into my hips as he slammed into me from behind, fast and hard, until it was all I could do to stay on my feet in these damn heels. He fucked me like he was trying to exorcise a demon, and maybe he was.

Bending forward, he reached around me and pulled down the material of my dress, exposing my breast and pinching my nipple hard. I cried out at the pain, but it was followed by a swift surge of desire as I heard him growl behind me.

On and on, he fucked me, his hands on my ass, my hips, my breasts, my shoulders...until my arms and legs were shaking from trying to hold myself up. But he didn't relent. If anything, he fucked me harder.

"Veda..." My name was a plea on his lips, and then he slammed into me one more time as he cried out. His arm came around me and I felt the weight of him sag against my back as he braced his other arm on the sink, holding us up.

I felt every drop as he came inside of me, and I'd never felt more a part of him than right now, at this very moment. I didn't come. I didn't have to. I felt our souls touch.

When he could breathe again, Luca pulled out of me, and a sense of loss surged through every cell of my body. "Stay there," he ordered. "Don't move." I watched him in the mirror as he tucked himself back inside his pants. Then he grabbed some paper towels out of the basket on the sink, wet them under the faucet, and stepped behind me. He was gentle as he washed the slickness from pussy and thighs, and when he was done, I straightened, and he helped me pull my dress down.

Luca's phone rang. His eyes met mine as he put it to his ear, and I watched with something akin to fascination as they froze over again, like a slow-motion film of the Caribbean turning into a glacier. The man who had just fucked me so desperately disappeared. "Yes, we're ready."

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