Luca

41 - The morning after

Luca

The first touch of dawn paints the room in pale gold when Sofia stirs beside me. I slept two hours before I was wide awake again. I usually sleep better and longer. But I think knowing I needed to be up early kept me from sleeping.

Sofia has no idea what I have planned for her. I’m taking her somewhere we can be alone, away from everyone and everything for a few days. It’ll be just her and me on a yacht in the middle of the Italian ocean. No one else around for miles. Naturally, I’m not stupid enough to leave security behind. They’ll be around if I need them, just not on the boat with us. We’re not going too far out to sea. My bodyguards will be on standby, ready to jump on their speedboat if I sound the alarm.

But we need this. Sofia and I need time alone without anyone around to interrupt us.

Sofia blinks sleepily. “Luca?” She mumbles.

“Good morning, my beautiful wife.”

Sofia giggles. “Good morning, my handsome husband.”

I stroke her face with the back of my hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“That’s okay,” she smiles. “I’m too excited to sleep.”

She shifts experimentally, and my arm tightens reflexively, my fingers splaying across her stomach. “Don’t,” I mutter. “If you keep touching me, I won’t be able to hold back.”

Sofia’s pupils dilate. “I don’t want you to hold back.”

Damn!

I nip at her shoulder in response, making her shiver. “Aren’t you sore?”

“A little,” Sofia whispers. “You’re not exactly small down there.” I chuckle because I can’t stop myself. “But I want you, Luca. You’ve awakened my desire for you.”

I groan low in my throat. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“I hope not,” she kisses my cheek. “I have big plans for you, Sir.”

I growl and roll Sofia onto her back.

She laughs, and it’s a heavenly sound.

My hand slides lower, fingertips tracing the sensitive skin just above her hipbone, and Sofia’s breath hitches. She squirms beneath me.

“Never took you for the squirmy type,” I murmur, my thumb brushing the underside of her breast in a way that makes her breath stutter.

Sofia presses her lips together to stifle another laugh, but it escapes anyway, muffled against my skin. “I’m not,” she lies, and my fingers dig in just enough to make her yelp.

Before she can protest, I pin her wrists to the mattress with effortless ease. Sofia’s pulse kicks as I lean down, my mouth hovering a breath from hers. “Liar,” I accuse, but there’s no heat in it—just a lazy, satisfied amusement.

The first golden light of dawn paints Sofia’s skin as she arches into me instinctively, still hypersensitive from our wedding night, her body thrumming with echoes of pleasure. I chuckle darkly at her responsiveness, rolling my hips in a slow, deliberate motion that makes her gasp—half from oversensitivity, half from renewed desire.

“Are you sure you’re not too sore?” I murmur against her throat, though I don’t stop the lazy grind of my body against hers.

Sofia bites her lip. “I’m fine. Please, Luca. Please, I need to feel you inside me.”

Desire rushes down my spine like water from a fountain. I answer for her with a slow thrust, this time slipping effortlessly inside her still-slick heat. Sofia cries out, fingers twisting in the sheets as her body stretches to accommodate me, still loose from our earlier couplings.

I move with slow, deep strokes, my breathing ragged against her neck. “Look at you,” I growl, dragging my tongue along the racing pulse at her throat. “Taking me so easy now.” She wraps her legs around my waist, heels digging into the small of my back as she meets my thrusts.

This time is slower than our first, but no less intense. I take my time exploring Sofia’s body in the daylight—the way her n*****s pebble beneath my thumbs, how her stomach quivers when I drag my nails lightly down her abdomen. When she cum.s this time, it isn’t the sharp, shocking climax of our first time, but a slow, rolling wave that leaves her gasping and boneless beneath me. I follow moments later, spilling into her with a groan that vibrates through my entire body.

When I pull out of Sofia’s tight little body, I lie beside her, pulling her against me.

“I’m not going to be able to walk later.” Sofia laughs. She lifts her head and looks at me, cupping my cheek. “You made my first time so special, Luca. And this time was out of this world.”

I smile while rubbing my nose against hers. “You deserved it, Sofia. But I fear I may become addicted to you.”

Sofia laughs. “I am addicted to you, my husband, my everything.” She whispers the last word, and I slam my mouth against hers.

“We should get ready,” I whisper against her lips. “We have a honeymoon to get to.”

She opens her mouth to reply when her stomach rumbles loudly.

I smirk against her lips. “Hungry?” I murmur.

Sofia’s face flushes. “A little,” she admits.

“Stay here,” I order, pressing a kiss to her forehead before sliding out from under her. I get out of bed, and Sofia watches as I stalk naked to the walk-in closet. I pull on a robe before tossing a silk robe at Sofia, the fabric landing softly across her lap. “Put that on unless you want to eat naked.”

Sofia laughs as she wraps herself in the robe.

I move to the bedside phone and dial a single number, my eyes never leaving Sofia as I bark orders in rapid-fire Italian before I hang up with a satisfied hum.

Sofia’s eyes widen. “I didn’t think anyone was here.”

I chuckle while sitting beside her on the bed. “There is no one in the house right now, Sofia. I told you, last night it was just us. But the chef I hired to cook for us doesn’t live too far away. That’s who I called. He’ll be here with breakfast soon.”

Sofia furrows her brow. “But it’s so early.”

I chuckle. “Sofia, I pay the man a fortune. He’s on call whenever we need him.”

“Oh.”

“Come here.” I wrap Sofia in my arms as we wait for Stefan, our chef, to arrive.

The scent of coffee arrives before the tray does, rich and dark, curling under the bedroom door like an invitation. Sofia sits up straighter, the silk robe slipping off one shoulder as she inhales deeply. I watch her and smile.

The knock comes softly, followed by a muffled, “Signore?”

“Leave it,” I call, not bothering to raise my voice.

The staff knows better than to enter uninvited. I’ve hired a chef, obviously. Cleaners, which we’ll need in a house this big, because my wife won’t be cleaning! I also hired gardeners and landscapers to keep the outside looking pristine. Sofia loves flowers, and I want to ensure they grow year-round. As I know nothing about that kind of thing, someone else will do it for us.

Everyone who works for me is paid handsomely. That includes the extra security I’ve hired to protect Sofia. I won’t take risks with my wife’s safety. I want her shadowed at all times, no exceptions!

The tray clatters softly onto the hallway table outside, footsteps retreating quickly. I retrieve it myself, balancing an absurd spread of food—fluffy omelets, golden pancakes, fruit, a carafe of espresso—with the ease of a man who’d carried far heavier things. Probably because I have.

Sofia’s stomach growls again as I set the tray across her lap, her fingers immediately reaching for the espresso. I catch her wrist, my thumb brushing the delicate bones there, making her shudder. “Eat first,” I murmur, pushing a plate of fruit toward her. “You’ll need your strength for later.”

Sofia arches an eyebrow but obediently picks up a strawberry, biting into the ripe fruit with deliberate slowness. Juice glistens on her lower lip, and my gaze darkens as I track the droplet’s path down her chin. Before she can wipe it away, I lean in, catching it with my tongue in a slow, lingering swipe. Sofia gasps, and I smirk.

“Let’s eat,” I say, grabbing a pancake and shoving it into my mouth. I swallow a bite. “We don’t have much time before we need to leave.”

“But I’m not even packed,” Sofia says.

“Everything we need is already packed on the plane.”

Sofia didn’t bring much with her when she left Romano’s place. Lorna confided in me that Romano was refusing to let Sofia take anything from the house. The only things Lorna managed to pack were a couple of personal belongings that Lorna had bought for Sofia.

That bastard wouldn’t even allow Sofia to bring her clothes because he paid for them!

Cunt!

So, everything Sofia now owns, I have bought. Everything she’ll wear, I chose. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t intend to dress my wife. She can wear what she wants, and soon, I’ll send her off to shop for things that she wants. But for now, Sofia will wear what I bought. I just hope she likes them.

“Plane?” Sofia asks with a furrowed brow.

I smile. “Well, my private Jet. We’ll need it for where we’re going.”

“Where are we going?” I shake my head, and Sofia groans. “You’re still not going to tell me?”

I shake my head again. “You’ll find out soon enough. But don’t worry, you’re going to love it.”

I hope that Sofia likes what I have planned.

Women like that kind of stuff, right?