You and I, it's as though we have been taught to kiss in heaven and sent down to Earth together to see if we know what we were taught.
~𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐤~

𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐚

"I think I'm ready for a celebration dinner," Lia says; she is curled up on my side, her head on my chest, fingers slowly and gently circling my nipple. I'm trying hard, inwardly chuckling at the word hard because that's what I am now, hard, naked, and desperate to make love to her again. I don't, though; I'm giving her time for respite from all the vigorous sex marathons we've been having since she came back from her first dialogue filming.

I think the promise of a career the part gave her is part of the inspiration for her libido, not that I'm complaining.

"Really?" I ask, clearing my voice when my tone comes off as hoarse—she nodes, lifting her face off my chest and giving my nipple a smooch.

I groan almost loudly; she laughs—an enticing sound that has me enthralled just by watching her.

"Pulse, or do you have another place in mind?"

"Pulse is fine. We can drop by the home to say hallo."

She whispers, getting off my shoulder; I pull her back because I'm not ready to cut our connection. I love these moments with her. I knew I would return to Italy soon; I had a race coming up, and leaving her would be difficult, although I knew we would both work out a plan to keep our relationship together. It's one of the reasons I love Lia; she wouldn't stay still waiting for me to do all the work; she is an equal partner, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

"What?" She asks with a smile; when I pull her back, I look at her, flipping her on her back.

I stare down at her; those black eyes gazing into mine. There are few times like this where I think Lia can read my mind; it's scary yet fascinating.

We are both naked, breathless, yet invigorated. "Haven't you had enough by now?"

I want to laugh out loud, but that requires stretching my mouth; I didn't want that. I wanted to devour her all over again, kiss her breathlessly, fuck her until she became boneless.

"I can never get enough of you," I said sotto voce, kissing her neck, feeling her pulse under my lips, and then putting the tip of my tongue on the same spot to feel the evidence of life within her.

It was clear by now, as it was when I was barely five the first time I saw her; she was mine. I was hers.

I was obsessed with her. I didn't know whether that was good or not.

"I still can't believe I'm doing this with you," I say, kissing her lower lip; my breath hitched when she kissed me back, my toes curling, something I hated admitting, even to myself.

"I can believe I m doing this with you," she replied with sass, almost gloating.

I stop to kiss her to look at her, which is enough time for her to spread her legs to bring her pussy directly to my dick. I moan, half closing my eyes.

"I knew we would have this in the future," she tells me, wrapping her legs around my waist.

"You're killing me, Lia."

There is the mischief in her eyes when she pulls me by the neck, kissing my cheek. Somehow, I find that endearing, as if she is comforting me, making love to me, and fucking me at the same time.

"It's the way you look at me."

"How do I look at you?" I'm breathless, my eyes feel like closing, our mingled sent heady for my brains.

If there was a woman in the world capable of breaking me, it was her. Lucky for me, she would never hate me enough to destroy me.

"Like I'm a meal. " she says, her lips shaking.

"What?" I ask, staring with tears shimmering in her eyes.

"I like it. The way you look at me, I mean."

I laughed mirthlessly, knowing how torturous the years we had been at the crossroads had been for me.

"I'm glad you liked my misery."

"You deserved it for dating all those women." she shot back at me, the fierceness and jealousy in her tone changing my mood significantly.

"Laugh all you want. But I should let you know if you cheat on me, I'm killing you."

I couldn't help it; I burst out laughing. This girl was magnificent, and she was all mine.

"Yeah, if you cheat on me, I'm killing the guy," I tell her. She bites her lower lip, her hands stroking my arms as she narrows her eyes at me as if she is trying to figure something out.

"You wouldn't kill me?"

"Nope! I'm killing your lover, and that includes Maxwell Vanderbilt."

That has her widening her eyes.

"You think he feels something for me?" She cannot possibly be this sexual and naive about men.

"Yes. I would bet he wants his pencil dick inside you."

She laughs again. She is happy, I can tell. I'm happy, too; lazing in bed with a woman I'm having sex with was as strange and new as it was for Lia. I'm glad most of my first are hers too.

"Wooh! How the hell do you know it's a pencil?"

I shrug, not willing to engage in this conversation. "Just don't give him what's mine."

She caps my face as if she knows it bothers me to imagine her with another man. "Never, " she whispers, a promise I know she'll never break.

"So, how about we go out tonight?" I nod, rolling her on top of me before unceremoniously entering her wet warmth. We groaned at the same time, mine directly into her ear. I couldn't help it. I still haven't gotten used to having a raw sec. It was an incredible feeling.

"You feel absolutely delicious."

I chuckle. "I'm glad I'm not the only one that feels that." I kiss her forehead, both her cheeks, her neck, and finally, her lips while still moving in and out of her body in a dance that was as old as time.

"You're incredibly, irrevocably mine," she tells me. I'm beginning to learn a different side of Lia. She was as possessive of me as I was of her.

"Same goes with you." I moan, coming deep inside of her.

Once we are done, I scoop her into my arms to the bathroom. She giggles while we stand in the shower, laughing like a naughty little girl. Her hair is plastered around her shoulders; I take the shampoo behind me to help her wash it—another of my fantasy. I've always wanted to wash her hair while we showered together.

"Would you mind taking a bath with me in the evening?" I ask; that's another fantasy, making love to her in a bathtub.

"We'll be home, remember?" I have not forgotten that. But if she thinks I won't be creeping into her room like old times (this time for nefarious reasons), she obviously doesn't understand how addictive she is to me.

"I know. I will be there. I'll come with snacks."

She didn't argue, perhaps because she knew I wouldn't change my mind, or maybe I was as addictive to her; that thought had me almost crushing her into my body.

"I can't breathe, Luc." I released her immediately, taking a step back with my hands falling on her sides.

"Sorry."

She nodded, "why did you suddenly feel the need to suffocate me" She was joking, of course. But I would never hurt Lia; I would rather die than hurt her.

"I just had a thought," I mumbled, wrapping her body with a towel.

"What thought?"

"That you might want me at least as much as I do you." I didn't feel shame to admit that, there is a feeling of strength that embrace me when I admit that.

"Probably more than you want me." I feel humbled when she says that. I know this girl would always tell me the truth. But she was wrong; there was no way she could want me more than I did her.

She was like the air I breathed, the laughter in my throat, the smile on my lips. She was deeply engraved in my blood

With a towel wrapped around my waist, I sat her on her vanity to help dry her hair.

I watched her in the mirror, her eyes closed. I could tell she liked it. "I remember there was a time you hated your hair," I mumbled, making sure to let the curls remain; I preferred her natural curls to straightening it.

"No. You remember incorrectly, I loathed it. I don't anymore, though. I got used to the tangles, your hoarse tone in my ear telling me it flamed as if it was ready to burn both of us in forbidden passion. I figured it was much part me as my black orbs, which I love."

I chortled, remembering the exact time I said that.

**************************

Pulse was the same, if not more vibrant. At the club's entrance stood a few heavy build guys in dark suits; they saluted both of us, moving out of the way as I led Lia inside. I knew it was a matter of minutes before our fathers knew we were around, which meant our mothers would know soon too. A drip down chain of information.

The inside glowed, the music boomed, the noise embraced us as soon as we stepped inside. I heard Lia inhale and exhale loudly, running her eyes around as if it was her first time here. Pulse had that effect on people—the warmth, food, laughter, booze, and security that came with it.

"Every time I come back here, I feel as if I've been gone for years." I knew that feeling. I run my eyes around, too; I can tell people recognize me—the curse of being famous. However, none of them have their phones up; it was club rule, just like Vegas, whatever happens at Pulse, remains at Pulse.

"We must hurry if we need a few minutes alone before the old guys descend on us."

Lia pulls my hand, leading me towards the private lounge. She was in black. A sheath dress that showed all her curves perfectly, black stilleto ankle boots, black blazer, and a gold sling bag.

"You look stunning, by the way. Have I you told that."

"Only a million times, but keep going. I might reward you later," she whispered, looking right and left, probably afraid her father might hear her. That would be crazily embarrassing for both of us. We might be grown, earning our own money, but nobody wanted their father to listen to them talk about their sexual fantasies.

"You know I like your rewards. They always leave me satisfied." I whisper back, clearing my throat as she lets out a throaty laugh at the double entendre.

Okay, I was going to shut up before I ran out of luck.

"Shh," I tug Lia's hand before she could open the door. We look around us as if we were afraid something or someone might spring on us. We are so on edge it's hilarious.

"What?" she mouths, still keeping my hand in hers.

I point at the door. Call me crazy, but I could feel the presence of people in there. Not intruders, but someone was in there.

I pulled my hand from hers, took a step back, and nudged her to open the door.

She does. And what do you know, our mothers and aunt Mia are there pretending to read the menu as if it was their first time in the club.

"Mom," Lia says in surprise.

"Mama," I call mine; she raises her head toward me with a gentle smile.

"Aunt Mia." Lia and I say almost at the same time.

"We didn't expect you here?" Lia says, standing on my left.

"Obviously." aunt Mia breathes, and then the three of them huddle together in girlish giggles.

They knew. I wanted to look at Lia, but I was afraid my they might start analyzing how I look at her like all those romance novels and movies they would dissect together when we were growing up.

Shit! What now?

Xoxo