Chapter 264: Sexy Lives of Plants
- RORY -
It’s been a week since we returned from Costa Rica, and everything I own is now in Luciano’s apartment, most of it in boxes. But one very important thing isn’t: the rare cactus flower Luci gave me.
I’m standing in the bright spare bedroom where it’s located now, lost in thought and procrastinating unpacking all of my things when Luci sneaks up behind me and wraps me in his arms.
"We should get married the night it blooms," he says, looking over my shoulder at the nondescript pile of pencil-like leaves. "Wouldn’t that be something?"
"Who would have thought that Luciano Ricca was such a romantic?" I lean back into him, and he play-bites my neck. "Can you even know when it’s going to bloom? I don’t think you can."
"Sometime in June." He mutters it against my skin and then kisses me where the play bites were. "We can wait until it blooms. Keep everyone in suspense about the exact date."
"Oh, I’m sure your mother would love that," I chuckle, imagining Gemma trying to navigate an unknown wedding date. "Although, I don’t think she would be surprised if it was your idea."
"That will at least keep the guest list down. The people who really love us won’t mind keeping every night of June available."
"Or the people who really fear your family," I point out, turning with a smirk to push him playfully. "We can be completely ordinary and pick a date. Don’t be difficult and ruin everyone’s entire month next year."
"Fine," he groans. "I’ll consult a professional to see when the most likely date is then."
"Are you serious?"
"Of course I’m serious." He pulls out his phone and starts typing away.
"Are you doing it now?"
"Yeah."
"Luci." With a laugh, I try taking his phone, and he pulls it back.
"This is important, dolcezza, June is less than a year away."
"Luci, we don’t need an expert." I grab his wrist and pull it gently toward me. "We already know the date."
He frowns and lowers his phone. "We do?"
"Yeah. It already bloomed."
His eyebrows thread in confusion as he glances again at the plant. "Are you messing with me?"
"No," I laugh, and then I pull closer to him, tugging on his shirt. "It bloomed when I met you. You’re rare, Luciano. And what I’ve seen in you are the genuine expressions of a love that I never knew existed. It’s breathtakingly beautiful. Much more beautiful than that flower could ever be."
His lips quirk in amusement, and then he lifts my chin, leaning down to speak softly. "I never knew I could be so turned on by being called beautiful."
"Well you are," I giggle, tilting my head to adore him and wrapping my arms around his neck. "So beautiful."
His hands drop to my waist, and he starts swaying with me. "I always thought you were the flower, tesoro. Not me."
"Not true," I grin. "It’s always been you."
"If I’m the flower," his eyebrows lift, "then you’re the moon I open for."
He kisses me softly, the sweetness of this comparison lingering against my lips while our hands reach and tug and tease until we break with soft laughter. It’s like love is a physical thing bouncing on the breaths between us and inflating my lungs, giving me life. I’ve never known joy like this.
"Maybe I could be a bat instead and pollinate you." I lift his shirt and skate my fingers up the sides of his abdomen, feeling his muscles quiver under the light touch.
"I think it’s the other way around, dolcezza," he says in a seductive gravel. "I’m supposed to pollinate you."
"Bats don’t pollinate with their male parts, Luci," I chuckle wryly. "The flowers have those long stamens, though."
"Stamens?" His eyes drop to my lips like he’s waiting for me to explain. When one of my hands drops over the bulge in his pants, he grunts. "Ah. I see." Then he leans down to kiss my neck and whispers, "What do bats pollinate with then, Lorelei?"
"Well I’m not an expert on the sexy lives of plants," I laugh softly as he continues to kiss a trail up my neck. "But I believe tongues are involved."
His kisses pause and breath feathers over my skin. "Tongues?"
"That’s right," I whisper back, fighting a smile as heat pools between my legs and I continue rubbing that straining bulge in his pants. No wonder he doesn’t wear jeans. With all he’s packing, they’re probably uncomfortable. "So what do you think?"
"Think?" He clears his throat and kisses my shoulder, fingers pressing into my hips. "You want me to think?"
"Well," I chuckle. "I was just wondering if this is a good metaphor for us. You, the flower with that loooong stamen." I give him a long stroke with the emphasized word, and he groans against my shoulder. "And me, the eager, hungry tongue wanting nectar."
"Fuuuck dolcezza," he groans, and then he’s lifting my shirt off and taking my mouth, pressing me against the wall as we both fumble with clasps and fabric and zippers. "I love you living with me," he pants.
"I love it, too," I pant back, pushing against him and steering him toward the bed until he sits on the edge and starts kissing my stomach, pulling me eagerly toward his mouth.
"Uh-uh, it’s my turn." I get down on my knees and look up, eyes locking with his. And then I get to watch Luci’s jaw drop and his eyes squeeze shut as vulnerable pleasure overtakes him with each long slide of soft, wet heat.
Mine. That’s the word that repeats over and over again—long and slow in my mind. Miiiiiine. Lips and tongue claiming the stamen of my flower. Miiiiiine.
And then it speeds up and narrows and pulls, cheeks hollowing out around the word that’s driving me until Luci grabs my hair and gently pulls me off, replacing what I lost with his own tongue, with his own mouth, eagerly returning the claim by devouring me as fiercely as he can and pulling me on top of him.
"I love you, Rory," he says on a harsh breath, tugging my hair so I’ll look at him and then flipping me over onto my back. "So fucking much."
"I love you, too," I whisper, and then he pushes into me, filling me up and making me cry out.
"So fucking much," he repeats, tugging on my lip with his teeth as he slams into me, bracing himself on forearms that are caging me in, keeping me where I am, perfectly positioned between his arms.
"So fucking much," I cry, grabbing onto his arms and holding on for dear life as he chases a sensation building between us. "God, you feel so good Luci."
He growls in return and kisses me, claiming my mouth, my body, my soul, every muscle dedicated to this sacred rhythm and the peak it promises to become.
"Please," I pant, begging to be pushed all the way up to that peak. "Please, don’t stop, Luci. Don’t stop."
His masculine grunts are met with my breathy ones, and then a golden, blinding light spirals up my center and lifts off, flying on wide, trembling legs. Luciano roars and his movements become erratic until he’s trembling and kissing me between breaths.
"Oh. My god," I pant, the ecstasy easing into gentle waves that roll over my muscles, coating me with languid satisfaction.
Luciano drops onto the mattress and pulls me against him, tucking me into his side. "I like being the flower," he pants.
I chuckle and kiss his chest. "You’re a sexy flower."
"You’re a sexy bat." His hand glides lazily over my back. "Let’s just get married now. At the courthouse. Not tell anybody."
"No. I don’t want to disappoint your family."
"You like my family?" He smiles and looks down at me.
"Of course. I love your family." My fingers trace down his abdomen and then graze over his scar. "Well, maybe not your dad."
"Yeah, I’m not so sure about him either." He rests his chin on my head and chuckles. "But he loves you. And I love you. And I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, dolcezza. I can’t wait to fill this beautiful body with my babies. I want it all with you."
"Babies?" My eyes widen.
"So many babies," he whispers against my temple. "And my beautiful wife carrying them. A family of our own. Me and you and the little people we create. Loving them and spoiling them and being so much better parents than we had."
I sigh at the utopian vision he’s painted in my mind. It looks like a never-ending spring with sunshine and new life sprouting everywhere. It looks like laughter and running through meadows of flowers with giggling children.
But there will be hard days. There will be rainstorms and tears and winters. Now I know I have the strength to face all of that, though. And this time my strength isn’t from shutting myself off from the world. It’s from having a fiercely loving man and family by my side.
Next to me, Luciano’s breaths slow and his arm grows heavy around my shoulders.
"Thank you, Luci," I whisper, knowing it will be delivered to him in dreams. "Thank you for the rarest flower."
