Luca's penthouse was carved from midnight and desire—floor-to-ceiling windows revealing the city's pulse, black marble floors that whispered wealth, and dim, golden lighting that kissed the skin.
Sienna didn't ask for a tour. She wasn't here for interior design.
He led her in without a word, one large hand on the small of her back. Possessive. Confident. Her heels clicked across the stone as he poured two glasses of bourbon, handed her one, and watched her over the rim as she drank.
"You taste everything slow," he murmured. "Good. So do I."
She set the glass down.
"Undress me," she said.
His lips curled—not in surprise, but satisfaction.
He stepped behind her, his fingers finding the zipper at the base of her spine. "Turn around. I want to see your face when I strip you."
She obeyed.
The sound of her dress sliding down was like silk sighing. Her skin revealed in inches—deep brown, warm, glowing under the soft light. He took his time, pulling the sleeves down her arms, exposing her breasts.
No bra.
His eyes darkened as he cupped them, thumbs circling her nipples until they hardened beneath his touch.
"Beautiful," he breathed, voice thick. "Do you know what you do to me?"
She glanced down. The thick line straining against his slacks answered.
"Show me," she whispered.
He dropped to his knees in front of her.
Sienna gasped as he pressed his mouth to her navel, trailing kisses downward. His hands slid along her thighs, spreading them apart, his nose brushing the wet silk between her legs.
"Already soaked," he murmured. "For me?"
"For you," she hissed.
He hooked his thumbs under her panties and dragged them down slow—agonizingly slow—kissing her mound as the fabric slipped past.
Then his mouth was on her.
Hot. Hungry. Precise. His tongue explored her folds like a man starved, every lick deep and deliberate, every suck a slow pull of pleasure.
Her knees buckled, but his hands gripped her thighs, holding her in place. When his tongue circled her clit, she cried out, fingers tangling in his waves of dark hair.
"Luca—fuck—"
"You come when I say," he growled against her. "Not a second before."
She whimpered. His mouth returned with cruel tenderness—slowing, teasing, denying her edge until her whole body trembled.
Then he stood, lifting her like she weighed nothing, carrying her to the bed—black sheets, massive frame, cool against her flushed skin.
He undressed before her eyes—deliberate, powerful. Chest sculpted, abs carved, cock thick and hard, curved upward with desire.
"Open your legs for me, Sienna."
She obeyed.
He slid between them, rubbing the head of his cock along her slick folds. Teasing her opening. Her body ached, empty, desperate.
"You want it?" he asked, hovering over her, his lips barely grazing hers.
"Yes," she gasped. "Luca, please—"
He slammed into her in one deep stroke.
Her scream was swallowed by his mouth.
He fucked her like a man with purpose—hips grinding deep, slow at first, then hard, punishing, merciless. She met every thrust with her own, greedy for more.
His hand slipped between them, fingers pressing against her clit in tight circles, sending her spiraling.
"I want to feel you come around me," he growled. "Now."
Her orgasm ripped through her like lightning—white-hot, pulsing. Her walls clenched around him, body arched, vision blurred.
He followed seconds later, slamming into her with a guttural moan, spilling deep inside her, his body tense and trembling above her.
They lay tangled in silence, breathless.
Finally, he spoke, lips brushing her shoulder.
"That was just the introduction."