We don’t have any music playing or noisy distractions, because this is the special thing he likes: lip-smacking noises while I administer First Aid to his swollen appendage.
As far as kinks go, this is definitely something I can work with.
I keep at it, feeling his tension build until he’s like a volcano.
When he can’t hold back any more, he reaches down, grabs my shoulders, and pulls me up. We kiss while he grabs one of the condoms we keep in a hidden pocket inside a pillow and hands it to me.
I’m getting better at this task, thanks to plenty of practice. I know how to wrangle the shark into the Ziploc bag, so to speak. The key is checking that it’s not upside-down.
Once it’s in place, Luca moves himself up on the bed until he’s sitting up with his back against the backrest of the sofa.
“What are you doing?” I ask, shaking my head.
“I’m thinking about our first time, how you climbed on my lap and lowered yourself onto me. You drove me crazy, like you always do, but that’s when I knew then I was in deep, deep trouble.”
I move up toward him and straddle his lap, his hard length pressed between our stomachs.
“You haven’t seen trouble yet,” I say with bravado.
He bows his head forward and sucks the sensitive skin on the side of my neck. He shifts his body and slips his hand down between my legs.
I gasp as he pushes one thick finger inside me. I rock against his touch as he slides in easily. He starts doing that magical thing he does, which is simply touching me with sweet, gentle passion. Everything he does feels amazing, and soon I’m gasping, desperate for more.
I rise up on my knees, guide him into place, and sink down upon him. I’m wet, but it still takes some movement and patience to accommodate him. He fills me, and transforms my body to a tingling extension of his. Or maybe I’m not an extension, but the missing part, the other half of the equation that makes us both whole.
“I love you,” he whispers, his hands on my back. “You don’t have to say it if you’re not ready, but I can’t hold back anymore.”
I lean my head forward, my cheek touching his.
My lips at his ear, I say, “Luca.” My pulse quickens, and I’m full of radiance. “Luca, I love you, too.”
Deep inside me, I feel a spark that grows. My body takes over, and I’m rising and falling in rhythm, making love to him. He grasps my back, now feverishly hot.
We keep moving, as one, and as two, then one again.
I love you.
One of us says it again, but I don’t know who.
I don’t want this moment to end, but of course the instant I think that, I start to come. Luca shakes inside me, lifting his h*ps to keep us moving even as my body goes still, pulsing with pleasure.
His hand slides up my back, grabs a handful of hair near the base of my skull, and pulls my head back.
My mouth opens, and my soft cries of pleasure get loud and fill the room. He kisses my neck and holds me tight, burying himself deep inside me. He groans and loses control.
He releases my hair, and his hands slide down my back slowly, his fingertips easing my tension and spreading the pulsing pleasure through my whole body.
Perfect.
Once we’re finished moving, we untangle casually.
The awkwardness that sometimes happens after sex isn’t happening. Not with Luca. Everything feels right.
He retreats to the washroom first, and I join him after a few minutes.
When I walk in, he kisses my forehead and hands me my toothbrush.
“Hang on,” he says, his blue eyes relaxed and sleepy. He grabs the toothpaste and squeezes a tiny dollop onto my toothbrush.
“I’d like a little more, please,” I say.
He squeezes a huge blob onto the brush.
“That’s too much.” I shake my head.
He grabs his own toothbrush—the blue one—and takes back some of the toothpaste for himself.
“Perfect.”
He grins and starts brushing his teeth.
A thought occurs to me: This is what making love means. You have sex, and then you brush your teeth together. You don’t do this with someone you don’t love.
I’m happy.
Chapter 25
We pull the bike into the hospital parking lot. Luca’s arms are wrapped around me, and I’m the one steering the bike.
Luca says it’s my bike now, but I think it’s too early in the relationship for such extravagant gifts. We’ve only been back together for a few months, but by the way things are going, I’ll probably relent and start calling it my bike soon.
The doctors didn’t want Luca riding while his foot was still in the cast. They did say he could go on a few rides, but only if someone else drove. I think that suggestion was a joke on the doctor’s part, but Luca called a friend that night to set me up with lessons.
I like riding. I like the rumble of the engine, and the way leaning from side to side for balance feels like your whole body is connecting with motion. It’s great exercise, too. I could never have muscles like Luca’s but I’m building strength and balance.
And I look really hot in black leather pants.
Luca hops off the bike on his boot side and waits for me to get under his arm. The bad part about taking the bike anywhere is there’s no way we’re taking the crutches. People already stare enough as it is, with a girl in front and the guy with a big cast on his foot.
We hop our way into the waiting room and take a seat.
Luca is excited about getting the cast off. We brought with us a new pair of boots that lace up, so he doesn’t strain the mending bone.
I pick up a magazine, and Luca sighs.
I put down the magazine again and turn to him. “What’s going on?”
He grins. “My foot is aching a bit. Slide over here and give me some sugar.”
I glance around the waiting room. There are a few people reading magazines, pretending they didn’t hear him.
This has been our little game for the last several weeks. He only took painkillers for the first two days after the accident, then he switched over to “natural” painkillers. The treatments involve me kissing or massaging him, or the other way around. I can’t say I mind the “natural” approach at all.
He puts his arm around me and steals a long kiss. His lips ignite my passionate feelings instantly. I pull away quickly, before I embarrass myself by moaning in public, here in this hospital waiting room.
He leans over and nuzzles in my ear, “Let me see it.”
I turn and give him a shocked look. “I’m wearing jeans,” I whisper.