Bound By Honor (Bound By Blood #1)

Chapter 9

9

LUCIANO POV

The silence between us isn’t peaceful—it’s a fuse waiting to ignite. Aurora shifts on the other end of the small couch, and even that subtle movement sends electricity crackling through the air. The safe house’s dim lighting casts shadows across her face, softening her features but doing nothing to dull the challenge in her eyes.

Reinforced windows and steel-core doors mock any illusion of normalcy in this place. The safe house is exactly what it claims to be—safe, sterile, a fortress disguised as a luxury apartment.

Security cameras blink their red eyes from every corner, a constant reminder that we’re being watched. That this is business, not pleasure. The leather couch we sit on probably costs more than most cars, but it’s the gun safe by the door and the panic room down the hall that matter.

“You’re doing it again,” she says, breaking the loaded silence.

I force my gaze away from the curve of her neck. “Doing what?”

“That thing where you look at me like I’m made of glass, then pretend you weren’t looking at all.” She stretches, the motion deliberate and maddening. “I’m not going to break, Luciano.”

Cristo . My hands clench against my thighs as her dress rides up slightly. “We’re not having this conversation.”

Maria’s face flashes through my mind—her gentle smile, her quiet acceptance of our world. She never pushed, never demanded. Never made me choose between her and the family like Aurora does now. The guilt twists in my gut, sharp and familiar.

Dominic trusted me to protect his sister, and I am failing already. The memory of Maria’s funeral, of Dom’s hand gripping my shoulder as we lowered her into the ground, burns like acid in my throat.

“Of course not.” She stands, moving to the window with dangerous grace. “We never do, do we?”

The lamplight catches her curves as she peers through the blinds, and my mouth goes dry. Every movement, every breath she takes, tests my limits.

“Aurora.” Her name comes out rougher than intended. “Step away from the window.”

She turns, moonlight painting silver in her hair. “Make me.”

The words hang between us like smoke. My body responds before my mind can stop it, rising from the couch with predatory focus.

This is madness , I think. But I can’t seem to look away from the dare in her eyes.

The tension crackles between us as I take a step closer. Her perfume fills my senses—jasmine and danger wrapped in one intoxicating package. The safe house suddenly feels too small, too intimate, and her next words only make it worse.

“Why do you always look at me like I’m some fragile thing you have to protect?” Her voice rises, cutting through the thick air between us.

“Because that’s my job.” The words taste bitter.

“Bullshit.” She steps closer, defiant. “Your job is to protect the family. This—” she gestures between us, “—is something else entirely.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” I move to turn away, but her next words stop me cold.

“Don’t I?” Her laugh is sharp. “You think I don’t see how you fight it? How every time we get close, you pull back like you’ve been burned?”

“Because it’s dangerous.” I spin back to face her, composure slipping. “Christ, Aurora, do you have any idea what Alessandro would do if?—”

“If what?” She closes the distance between us. “If you let yourself feel something? If you stopped pretending this is just about duty?”

“Stop.” The word comes out like a growl.

“No.” She tilts her chin up, eyes blazing. “I’m tired of stopping. Tired of watching you wrestle with whatever guilt you’re carrying about Maria while?—“

“Don’t.” My voice drops dangerously. “Don’t say her name.”

“Why not? Because it makes this real? Because it forces you to admit that you’re not just protecting me, you’re hiding from?—“

I move before thinking, hands slamming against the wall on either side of her head, caging her in. Her breath catches, but there’s no fear in her eyes—only that same damn defiance that drives me crazy.

“Hiding?” My voice is barely controlled. “You think that’s what this is?”

“I think,” she says, her voice trembling slightly but her gaze steady, “you’re terrified of wanting me.”

“ Cazzo , Aurora.” My fingers curl against the wall. “You have no idea what I want.”

“Then show me.” She lifts her chin, close enough that her breath fans across my lips. “Stop being such a coward and show me.”

The word “coward” snaps something in my chest. My hand moves to cup her jaw, thumb brushing across her cheek as I lean closer.

“I’m trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need protection.” Her hands fist in my shirt. “I need you.”

“You drive me insane,” I whisper, watching her pupils dilate. “Every goddamn day, you push and push until I?—”

“Until you what?” Her lips ghost across mine as she speaks. “Until you finally lose control?”

Cristo , she’s going to be the death of me. Every rational thought screams to step back, to maintain distance. Instead, I find myself pressing closer, drawn by the heat radiating from her body.

“Aurora.” Her name is a warning and a prayer. “If I lose control...”

“Then lose it,” she breathes against my mouth. “With me.”

Her lips meet mine, and everything I’ve been reigning in crashes through. The kiss is desperate, hungry—months of denied attraction exploding in a single moment. Her hands slide up my chest as I press her harder against the wall, swallowing her soft gasp.

“ Dio ,” I breathe against her mouth. “You taste like sin.”

She arches into me, one hand sliding into my hair. “Then damn us both.”

My restraint shatters. I lift her, her legs wrapping around my waist as I deepen the kiss. She tastes like danger and salvation, her soft moans driving me wild. My lips trail down her neck, and she trembles.

“Luciano,” she gasps, tugging my hair. “Look at me.”

I raise my head, finding her eyes dark with desire. Her lips are swollen from my kisses, her breathing ragged. She’s never looked more beautiful—or more dangerous to my sanity.

“Tell me you want this,” she demands softly. “Tell me it’s not just duty or protection or?—“

I cut her off with another kiss, pouring everything I can’t say into it. My hands explore her curves with reverence and hunger, memorizing every soft sigh, every shiver.

“You think this is duty?” I growl against her throat. “You think I lie awake at night thinking about duty ?”

Her nails scrape my scalp. “Tell me what you think about.”

“You.” I press closer, letting her feel exactly what she does to me. “Always you. Driving me crazy, haunting my dreams, making me want things I can’t?—“

The words die in my throat as her lips find mine again, softer this time, full of promise and heat. My hands slide down her sides, relishing the way she shudders under them. For one perfect moment, the world narrows to just this—her taste, her touch, the soft sounds she makes against my mouth.