It was the sweetest kind of torture—
One where the culprit had eyes that sparkled as they trembled and lips that would say ground-breaking words.
Like "Don't stop," or just his name.
In fact, as of this moment, he was certain that the one before him was no chipmunk.
No, Luca—this Luca, was a fox.
A fox with flushed cheeks, golden eyes, and the dangerous power to steal Xavier's breath and hijack every rational thought in his head. And right now, he—his sensibilities, and most definitely his dick—were being held hostage by those small, smooth hands.
And the kicker? His wife wasn't even holding his member.
Xavier could only gape. His mind blanked the moment Luca guided his hand lower and pressed it there. Warm. Hard. Needy.
It wasn't just that touch. It was the way he touched—like he meant it, like he wanted it. But when Luca pressed Xavier's hand against his aching hardness and then moaned—just a little, small, soft and absolutely deadly—Xavier knew.
He was ruined.
