❝Book 1 in the 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 series
He spreads my folds wide, his hungry mouth latching onto my clit, sucking hard and licking expertly. My hips move on their own, riding his face as soft whimpers escape me.
Just when I think I can't take any more, he...
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L U C I A N O
The living room's quiet except for the low hum of the TV and the soft purring of Cielo from his cat tree. The little furball is sprawled on his back, paws sticking out like he's auditioning to be a roadkill diagram. He hasn't moved in an hour—lucky bastard.
I'm on the couch, one leg stretched out, the other bent, phone in hand as I go through a few work emails and check some numbers. It's been a long day, and my brain's running on coffee fumes and habit.
I absently rub my forehead with my free hand, tapping my phone screen with my thumb as I try to decide whether that one investment's worth keeping.
Beside me, Paris is curled up, her hoodie half-swallowing her and one bare leg tucked under the other. She's been quiet—suspiciously quiet—which means she's deep in something.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the faint glow of her phone and the quick scroll of her thumb. I glance over and raise an eyebrow when I see her scrolling through tattoo designs on Pinterest.
"You thinking of getting inked?" I ask without looking away from my phone, keeping my tone casual.
"Mhm." She hums, eyes still glued to her screen.
I smirk.
"What's Richard gonna think about that?"
That gets me a little shrug, but she doesn't slow her scrolling.
"He'll probably freak out, but..." she pauses for dramatic effect. "...I'm not a kid anymore. I can do whatever I want."
She's right. But hearing her say it out loud sends a little pang of something protective—and annoyingly possessive—through me. She's grown up, no question about it.
Not the kid I used to see running around the backyard in grass-stained sneakers. And that's a problem for me for... too many reasons. Before I can say anything else, she turns her phone toward me, eyes bright.
"What do you think of this one?"
The design's beautiful, with delicate lines and a little floral work. I could appreciate it just fine... until I notice exactly where she's planning to put it—right between her breasts. My frown comes without my permission.
"Why there? That's gonna hurt like hell."
"Because it's gorgeous. And sexy." She gives me that playful little half-smile, the one that's pure trouble. "Don't you think?"
I keep my eyes on the design, forcing my voice flat.
"Yeah. It's nice."
Her squeal of excitement tells me she heard what she wanted to hear. Meanwhile, I'm trying not to picture some tattoo artist—probably some smug guy with forearms covered in ink—leaning over her, hands way too close to a place I've been trying very hard not to think about.
