The Temporary Wife: Luca and Valentina's Story(72)

I glance back at him and shake my head. No. It’s not the same at all. He grew up in pure luxury, surrounded by siblings who adore him. My life is the polar opposite of his in every way, and somehow, I’m scared he’ll realize how incompatible we are. I shouldn’t care, because I know none of this is real, but I do care.

Luca chuckles when we walk into my old bedroom, fascination lighting up his expression. He looks at all the yellow post-it notes on my walls and traces over them with the tips of fingers, a wicked smile on his lips. “So your love for these started young, huh?”

I move to stand next to him and stare at the motivational quotes littering my walls. All my life, I was convinced that I could escape my circumstances if I just kept hoping, so that’s exactly what I did. Despite the odds, I kept fighting and hoping for a better life. All of these little notes were an attempt to keep myself going when I was ready to give up.

“What is this?” he asks, pointing toward a picture of a large tree surrounded by a lake that perfectly mirrors the sky. It’s the only photo I’ve got on my wall, and it sticks out amongst my countless sticky notes.

I smile as I stare at it. “I’m not even sure where that is, you know?” I admit. “I saw it online one day, and it just inspired me endlessly. You probably think it’s silly, but I feel like I’m kind of like that tree. Looking at it makes me feel like I, too, can thrive in unfavorable circumstances, and that even if I’m all alone, I can be strong. It grew surrounded by water, no other trees around it, yet it’s a sight to behold, unwavering and unapologetic. Surrounded by the elements, I’m sure it bends at times, but it never breaks. Someday I want to find it. I have a feeling that the day I do will be one I’ll never forget.”

I look away from the image to find Luca staring at me, his gaze filled with something that makes my heart flutter. “And this?” he asks, pointing toward one of my sticky notes. “Aut viam inveniam aut faciam,” he murmurs. “What does that mean? You’ve written it on several notes, and you’ve got it stuck to your desk at the office, too.”

I raise my brows, surprised he noticed that. “It roughly translates to I’ll either find a way or create one. It’s my favorite quote, and it’s the one that kept me going throughout the years.”

He leans against the only empty wall in my room and pulls me closer, his touch gentle as he brushes my hair out of my face. “And did you? Did you find a way?”

I look into his eyes, my heart pounding loudly. Sometimes he looks at me a certain way, and it makes everything fade away, until all I can see is him. “I’m not sure yet,” I whisper.

Luca cups my face, his touch tender. “What is it going to take for you to be sure?” he asks, and all of a sudden, I’m no longer sure what we’re talking about. He’s been acting this way recently, his gaze turns pensive, as though he misses me when I’m right next to him.

Luca leans in slowly, his lips brushing over mine once, twice, before he captures them fully. He groans as he pulls me closer and turns us around, until he’s got me pressed against the wall, his hand wrapped in my hair. I could lose myself in his kisses, in this thing between us. He makes me want to do the one thing I told myself I never would again.

His hands dip lower, and he lifts me into his arms. My legs instinctively wrap around his hips, and just feeling how hard he is for me sends a rush of desire through me. There’s something so empowering about knowing that he always wants me this badly.

“Valentina,” he groans against my lips, his mouth trailing down to my neck. His touch is desperate, and I revel in it. I’ve missed him more than I care to admit. The last couple of days have been odd, the distance between us seemingly insurmountable, but it all disappears when he touches me this way.

I arch my back, needing more. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” I whisper. “What if my mother comes up to find us?”

He chuckles as his teeth graze over my neck. “Then I guess we’d better be quick.”

Luca’s palm slides down my stomach and into the skirt I’m wearing, until he’s got his thumb pressed against my lace underwear. He groans when he realizes that I’m wet, and his forehead drops to mine. “This is one of the things I love most about you,” he whispers. “The way your pussy is always ready for me.”

My cheeks flush when he roughly pushes my underwear aside. “I need you, baby. Right fucking now.”

I nod and unbutton his jeans frantically, my thoughts clouded by desire. The way he looks at me when my hands wrap around his cock will never get old. He looks like he’s at my mercy, like his entire world revolves around me.

Luca’s eyes are on mine as I guide him into me, and the pure desire he shows me only heightens my own need. “Such a good pussy,” he groans as he thrusts into me fully.

I moan, and he shakes his head, his hand wrapping over my lips to silence me. “No, baby,” he whispers. “Quiet.” He fucks me like that, pushed up against my bedroom wall, one hand over my mouth and the other underneath me, holding me up.

“More,” I beg, and he uncovers my mouth, both of his hands moving to my hips instead. He holds my hips tightly and turns us around, so he’s leaning against the wall. Rather than thrusting into me, he moves me up and down his cock, his movements rough. He handles me with such ease that it’s like I don’t weigh a thing.