Lucas's hands roamed over her body, unbuttoning her dress with a fierce urgency as he backed her against the wall.
The fabric slid down her shoulders, pooling at her feet, and he groaned at the sight of her in just her lingerie. His mouth claimed hers, tongues tangling in a fierce, desperate dance.
He lifted her, pinning her against the wall as he devoured her, his hips grinding against hers. "I want you," he growled, the single word a primal claim.
As he spoke, his lips left hers, tracing a scorching path down her neck teasing bite on it, sending shivers down her spine.
His fingers dug into her hips, holding her in place as he pressed against her, the bulge in his pants evident through the thin fabric of his trousers.
She could feel the heat radiating from him, the tension coiled in his body, ready to unleash. "I need you, Melissa," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin, sending her own desire surging to a fever pitch.
She moaned, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him back to her lips.
The kiss was fierce, all-consuming, as they devoured each other, the world outside the penthouse melting away.
His hands roamed over her, unhooking her bra, letting it fall to the floor, and cupping her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples until they were hard and aching.
She arched into him, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer, and she knew she was ready to surrender to him, to let him take her, to lose herself in the fire that burned between them.
He tumbled onto the bed, Lucas's hands were everywhere, stripping her of the last of her clothes, leaving her naked and vulnerable to his gaze.
He gazed at her, his eyes burning with desire, and she felt a shiver run down her spine. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice husky with need, with a quick movement he take off his clothes, leaned closer to her lips.
She smiled, her fingers tracing the lines of his face, her thumb brushing over his lips. "You're not so bad yourself," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper, that was a only full sentence she spoke.
He chuckled, the sound low and rough, and his mouth claimed hers again, the kiss deepening, becoming more intense.
His fingers slid between her legs, parting her, finding the wet heat of her, and she gasped, her body arching up to meet him.
"Luca," she whispered, his name a prayer, a plea, a promise.
He growled, his hips surging forward, his p*nis pressing against her entrance playful, she felt a rush of excitement, of anticipation.
He was ready , he was going to take her, to claim her, to make her his, and she was ready to let him, to surrender to the desire that burned between them.
His mouth traced a path of fire from her lips to her throat, to the swell of her breast.
His hands learned her, worshiped her, drawing gasps and sighs that were her only language. Every touch was a confession, every kiss a vow.
When he finally entered her, it was with a slow, devastating fullness that made her cry out, her eyes flying open to find his gaze locked on hers, she never imagined the pain,in a sure motion, he thrust into her slowly, let her accommodate the size of his, she screamed with a feeling unfamiliar pain ,building up something inside of her.
Even though her eyes , flickered tears ,her moans was evident of what she's starting to feel.
The shock had melted into something raw and open, a vulnerability she knew he showed no one else.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice rough with emotion. "*Solo a me.*" Only at me.
And she did, his eyes staring hers, as their bodies began to move in a rhythm as old as time, their gazes held.
It was more intimate than the joining of their bodies. It was a soul-deep recognition.
He whispered to her in a torrent of Italian, endearments and pleas and praises she felt more than understood, she answered with his name, a mantra on her lips as the coil of pleasure tightened deep within her, the sight of her biting her lower lip made Luca claim her lips slightly into his, fiercely.
He felt her begin to unravel, and his own control shattered, With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself in her, he shot inside uncontrollably, muffled against her neck as she shattered around him, a wave of pure, blinding light breaking over them both.
For a long time, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing slowing, syncing. The city glittered, silent and far below. He shifted, gathering her against his side, her head on his chest, his heartbeat a steady drum under her ear. His fingers traced idle, possessive patterns on her bare shoulder.
In the quiet aftermath, the significance of where she was settled over her, Not as a guest. Not as a temporary refuge. He had brought her to the heart of his private world, to the bed where he slept, and had made her a part of it.
"This," she whispered into the darkness, her hand splayed over his heart. "This feels like home."
He pressed a kiss to her hair, his arms tightening around her. "It is," he said, his voice thick with sleep and certainty. "You are my home now, *cuore mio*. Always."
The first thing crossed his thought was to let her rest, if talking of not getting enough of her, he would have spending hours claiming her , thrusts relentless but for now he chose to let her rest on his chest.
And as sleep claimed them, tangled in each other and the fine linen sheets, the penthouse with its staff and its securities and its grandeur ceased to be just Luca's fortress. It had become, for the first time, *their* haven. A sanctuary they had forged together, not in spite of the world waiting outside its doors, but because of it.