CHAPTER 93: YOU’VE GOT THE ENTIRE NIGHT

A soft, involuntary moan escaped Sara’s throat when Luca’s tongue finally sought entrance. He sensually slid across the seam of her lips. In that instant, every defensive wall she had painstakingly constructed around her heart to keep this man distant crumbled beneath the force of his passionate demand.

Her fingers frantically gripped the cotton of his shirt, tightening into white-knuckled fists just as her back collided sharply with the edge of the cool kitchen counter behind her.

His lips withdrew for only a fleeting second, before he reclaimed her mouth with even greater intensity.

"Luca!" she gasped, managing a desperate push against his solid chest. "They will arrive anytime. We must stop," she whispered, her voice breathless and frantic, fighting the rising tide of desire.

"No," Luca refused against her mouth. His hands moved with possessive speed to the hem of her top, effortlessly pulling her upwards.

Instinctively, her legs wrapped tightly around his torso as he steadied her weight, lifting her onto the counter.

His mouth never left hers; he maintained the relentless, consuming kiss while one hand clamped firmly against the back of her head, anchoring her to him.

"Madam! They guests are—" Jonathan burst into the kitchen, freezing mid-step. His announcement cut off abruptly as he took in the scene. "I’m so sorry!" He spun instantly, squeezing his eyes shut.

Luca swiftly lowered Sara, whose feet barely touched the floor before she turned her back to him, pressing a hand over her mouth, desperately trying to steady her ragged breath and hide her flush.

"Are they here?" Luca asked, raking a hand over his hair and rubbing the top of his furrowed eyebrow.

"Y-yes, sir," Jonathan stammered with embarrassment.

"I’ll see to them," Luca told Sara, his voice now crisp and authoritative. He strode toward the kitchen entrance, pausing only to place a warning hand on Jonathan’s shoulder, fixing the poor man with a brief, icy glare before walking away.

Jonathan gulped, his face still hot, and quickly retreated, deciding it was better to leave the kitchen and allow Sara a moment to regain her dignity.

Alone, Sara touched her cheeks, feeling the lingering, fiery warmth on her skin. "Oh God! I lost my control again," she mumbled. "It happens all the time." She took several deep breaths while smoothing down her top and attempting to straighten the chaos of her appearance.

Meanwhile, just outside the kitchen, Luca walked into the hallway and fixed a stern glare on Marco and Remo, who stood there looking far too excited for tonight’s dinner.

"Why are you glaring at us, Dude?" Remo asked, completely oblivious, holding a vibrant flower bouquet tightly in one hand and a gift bag in the other.

"Don’t tell us you suddenly lost interest in this dinner," Marco remarked, raising a suspicious eyebrow.

"That’s bad, Luca. We are your friends, man! And your dear wife has invited us over for dinner," Remo stated, giving Luca a friendly nudge.

"You two interrupted me and Sara," Luca hissed, his teeth nearly gritted. He muttered the next line under his breath, laced with self-pity, "She is already keeping a good distance from me. Couldn’t you two have come a little later?"

"Hey, you’ve got the entire night to spend with Sara," Remo scoffed. "Don’t pull that angry bird face." His face brightened suddenly. "Oh! Here comes Sara!" he announced, completely brushing past a fuming Luca to greet her.

"This is for you!" Remo presented the bouquet and gift bag with a theatrical flourish. "Congratulations on finally getting married to Luca. Your lifelong dream did come true, didn’t it?" he teased, giving her a wink.

"Who said marrying him was my lifelong dream?" Sara countered, a genuine chuckle escaping her lips as she accepted the flowers and the bag. "Thank you so much for these, Remo. But you really didn’t have to bring anything," she said, touched by the gesture.

"Oh, come on, Sara! It’s the first time I’m being invited into Luca’s legendary bachelor pad, which is now officially your home too," Remo insisted.

Marco, typically the more reserved of the two, walked up to her and handed over his gift. "Thank you for inviting me. I hope you’re doing great, truly," he said, his tone warmer and more sincere than Remo’s.

As Sara accepted the second gift, Luca’s stern expression softened just slightly. He stepped closer and automatically took the heavy bouquet from her hands.

This interaction cleverly uses domestic details to highlight the ongoing power dynamics and playful friction between Sara and Luca, while involving their friends.

"Yes, I am doing great, Marco. Thanks so much for coming," Sara said warmly, juggling the conversation and the gifts. "Since dinner is ready, I think we should head straight to the dining room. We can settle in there."

"That’s a wonderful idea! I’m famished," Remo declared.

"Please, this way," Sara invited, guiding their way with a small smile. Luca walked beside her.

Reaching the dining room, which was elegantly set, Sara motioned for them to take their places first. Luca, however, seemed determined to ignore social niceties. Without paying any heed to the guests, he started to pull out a chair to seat himself.

"Are you serious?" Sara’s grip tightened on his arm, halting his movement. "Let your guests sit first, Luca."

"They are my friends, not guests," Luca argued back, his eyes challenging hers. He hated being corrected, especially in front of an audience.

Remo and Marco, having witnessed the familiar exchange, had already taken their seats, trading silent, amused glances.

"Be a gentleman to your wife, Luca," Marco advised dryly from his spot at the table, leaning back slightly and enjoying the show. "Have you still not learned how to give respect to your wife’s views?" he arched his eyebrow.

This exchange resolves the tension with a small, yet significant, act of deference from Luca, albeit delivered with his typical stubborn flair.

"Hey, I thought you two came here as friends, not guests," Luca stated, refusing to admit he had been wrong, trying to turn the tables on Marco. "Besides," he added quickly, covering his save, "I wanted Sara to sit first. Since... ladies first," he finished with a flourish.

He stepped behind Sara and, with a quick motion that was undeniably chivalrous, he gently pressed her shoulders and lowered her into the chair beside him.

"Every dish on this table is prepared by Sara. And believe me, you two are going to love it," Luca said with a proud smile before instructing the maids to start serving them.