Page 95 of The Silence Lies

Peeling myself away from Luca, I drop to my knees.

Luca’s eyes widen, shock freezing him in place as I start to unbuckle his pants. Aside from the hope I’m holding onto, I’m turned the hell on by Luca’s openness. The brooding asshole that blamed me for his father’s death is long forgotten. I’m staring up at the guy who makes me safe and vulnerable all in one hit.

“What are you doing?” he stutters, attempting to stand up.

I tug him back down, his pants shifting down slightly with the force. “We can’t let Levi have all the fun,” I smirk. “Can we?”

As soon as my fingertips graze the raging erection hidden beneath Luca’s slacks, I know I’ve won. He relaxes into his seat, lifting his hips so I can free his dick from his boxers.

I have to take a beat to gather my thoughts because even though I vividly remember having him inside of me, I’d forgotten just how big Luca actually is. It’s no competition, though. Levi hits the spot perfectly, but Luca is longer where Levi is thick.

Sliding a tight fist over his shaft, I look up into Luca’s deep blues. He bites down on his lip, suppressing the moan I know is begging to come out. His hands clench the arms of his chair and suddenly the need to please him is all too much.

“I never thought I’d see Bianchi on her knees for me,” Luca teases.

My eyes narrow. “This is one of the few moments I will ever be on my knees for you, Fontana.”

A laugh bubbles over as he leans forward and cups my chin. “I’m not complaining, Dolcezza.” He softens his words even more with a gentle kiss, a growl rumbling through his chest as I start pumping his length.

I lean forward on my knees, running my tongue along the underside of his rigid cock, feeling every vein bulging through the skin. The taste of pre-cum sits lightly on my tongue, a delicious thin salty mixture that is all Luca.

“Holy shit,” Luca rasps hoarsely, tossing his head back on his chair.

I feel ten feet tall from the sounds alone. His unfiltered words and gravelly tone spur me on. I wrap my mouth around the velvety head of his dick, sucking and licking my way around it. I let the saliva pool in my mouth, allowing it to dribble down his shaft. Using it as lubrication, I pump my hand through it, the heat of his cock mixed with my spit making it slippery and hot as fuck. I can feel my pussy throbbing at just the memory of him inside of me and I’d be a goddamn liar if I said I didn’t want to jump his bones right now.

Instead, I focus on his moans, his groans, his choppy breaths and stifled words. His hips move gently, picking the rhythm he likes. My fists grips harder and he groans louder. Slowly, but surely, I’m figuring out what he likes. I’ve already worked out he likes it hard and fast, but this is about his pleasure.

I hollow my cheeks and flatten my tongue. The head of his cock slides against it, and I take the time to lap and lathe, swirling my tongue over him while I pick up a steadier rhythm. Running my other hand up his thigh, I slide it under his shirt, feeling every hard earned muscle and ab. I’d be remiss if I didn’t acknowledge how well put together Luca is. He’s an adonis of another nature. With a tanned complexion and badboy attitude, he’s got the body and mind to contend with the gods.

Sucking harder, Luca lets out the deepest groan I’ve ever heard. His hips buck as I suck harder. My hand moves at the same rhythm, but it’s the way I take him deep in my throat at the last second that has him filling my mouth with his hot cum.

“Dolcezza,” Luca pants, his choppy breaths filling the heady silence.

Before I can swallow, he reaches forward and pinches my cheeks with one hand.

“Show me,” he growls, moving his thumb to my bottom lip.

I obey—the only time I ever will—and open my mouth slowly. His cum sits on my tongue, the warm, salty liquid coating it thickly.

A small smile graces Luca’s delicious lips, smug satisfaction at its finest. “Definitely not complaining.”

Luca

“When was the last time you cleaned this thing?”

I stare pointedly at Matteo. He can berate me all he likes but gun admin is not my forte. I asked him for his expertise on why the piece of shit keeps jamming, not for a lesson on a hygienic gun.

Slumping down on the chair by the pool, I watch Matteo inspect my gun. I found him out here when I arrived earlier. After Sera’s visit this morning, I’m not ashamed to say I was more than eager to see her again. Unfortunately, she wasn’t here when I arrived, which leaves me with very little to do.

The sun is beating down heavily on us today. Like most days in California, the weather is tropical here. The subtle breeze that drifts over the hill does nothing to attempt to cool me down. If anything, a dip in that pool that I’ve never seen Sera use is more tempting right now.

“Damn, Fontana. That’s why it keeps jamming.” He raises a brow at me as he unclips the empty magazine, exposing a gunky substance and a bent spring. “Have you not watched Jarhead?”

“I can’t say I have,” I comment, kicking my feet up onto the patio table.

“This is my gun. There are many like it, but this one is mine.” Matteo glances at me over his shoulder, smirking as he blindly takes my gun apart. “My gun is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master life. Without me, my gun is useless.” Matteo punctuates each sentence by placing a part of my dismantled weapon firmly down on the table until all I’m looking at is a mishmash of metal parts.

“Without my gun, I am useless.” Matteo stares down at me. Between his thumb and forefinger he holds the offending part that has been causing me issues.

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