Chapter Twenty-Four
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
VIVIANA
We lie like that for several long moments. Our chests heave against one another’s, breaths mingling, occasionally exchanging featherlight, doting kisses. Every muscle in my body feels heavy and sated, and I’m not certain my legs will function properly if I try to stand up. Then again, that might just be the weight of Luc’s body pressing heavy on my hips. He’s still inside of me and shows no signs of wanting to move.
My mind is a jumbled mess of elation and panic. Elation because Luc and I just had sex. Panic because Luc and I just had sex— on his parents’ staircase.
At the reminder, I gently nudge a hand against his shoulder, interrupting his current perusal of my neck with his lips. “Luc, we need to get dressed.”
He grumbles. “I think I’m happy right here. ” To emphasize his point, he seats himself deeper inside of me.
I flinch. Now that the bliss of my orgasms has faded, I’m acutely aware of the rising soreness between my legs. Sex was painful—no getting around that—but the pleasure overshadowed every fraction of discomfort. Connecting with Luc, consummating our marriage and bending to my innermost desires… I will never regret it.
Luc hisses a curse and eases his weight from me. “I’m sorry, cattivella. I wasn’t thinking. Are you hurt?”
I shake my head, rising onto my elbows as he gently lifts away. His semi-hard erection slips out of me, and I suddenly miss the fullness of him. “Just a little sore, I think.”
If he hears me, he doesn’t react. Instead, his intense gray eyes settle on the apex of my thighs, where I’m still spread and exposed for him. Embarrassment licks up my neck, and I try to close my thighs. His hands land on my knees and keep me open.
“ Luc,” I protest, fighting harder against his hold.
“You’re absolutely beautiful,” he murmurs, releasing his grip on my knees and tracing a knuckle down the inside of my leg. He never looks away from my sex. I wonder if it looks as battered and stretched as it feels…
I sit up a bit straighter to peer between my own legs. Even in the darkness, wetness glistens down my thighs, a strange combination of my own clear arousal, Luc’s sticky white seed, and something darker…
Blood. My eyes expand.
I knew I’d likely bleed with my first time, but seeing the deep crimson smudges still sends a shock through my system. My eyes drift up to Luc’s manhood, half-erected and covered in similar evidence of what we’ve just done.
The reality of my situation creeps in. Luc and I are married— properly now. A strange cocktail of happiness and apprehension mixes in my chest. I’ve given myself to him, body and soul, fully surrendering to another person for the first time in my life. It’s a terrifying thrill, knowing that someone else has the absolute power to break or save you.
“What’s going on in that mind of yours?” Luc murmurs, stroking a heavy hand along my thigh.
My teeth drag over my bottom lip. “I didn’t expect it to be so… messy.”
Luc chuckles. “Let’s get you home. I’ll clean you up.”
He tucks himself back into his pants, refastening the buttons and belt before carefully readjusting my dress. Every move is tender as he pulls the neckline back into place over my breasts, then nudges my thighs closed and smooths my skirt back over my legs. When he’s done, I take his hand, and we rise from the stairs.
As soon as I’m upright, liquid gushes from my center. I clamp my legs tight, suddenly cursing myself for not wearing panties. Heat flames to my cheeks. “Uh, I might not be able to wait until we get home.”
My husband shoots me a knowing smirk and bends to retrieve his blazer and my clutch, holding both in one hand while combing his fingers through my disheveled hair with the other. “I rather like the idea of you walking through the party with my cum dripping down your legs,” he replies, wicked and smug.
Warmth flushes to my abdomen, but I somehow manage to roll my eyes. “You’re such a caveman.”
Undeterred by my affection-laced insult, Luc laughs and rummages through his blazer’s pockets before pulling out his cellphone and typing a hasty message. “I’ll tell Freddy to get the car ready. We’ll leave out the back, no fuss.”
“A caveman with a hint of chivalry,” I amend, my lips curling. “Thank you.”
“I’m not doing it for you.” He doesn’t miss a beat, slipping his phone in his back pocket and twining his hand with mine. My breath hitches in my throat when he leans close and places a lingering kiss on my mouth. When he pulls back, that same boyish smirk plays on his lips. “I’m doing it for the poor souls I’d have to kill if they saw you like this.”
“Like what?”
“Freshly fucked.”
My blush comes on so strong, I’m certain it will permanently stain my cheeks. Unable to form a coherent thought, much less a witty response, I follow after Luc as he leads me back down the staircase, hand in hand.
Rather than rejoin the engagement party, we turn in the opposite direction of the main foyer. Music and voices drift through the empty hall. The guests will notice Luc’s absence soon. My busybody mother has undoubtedly already noted that my husband disappeared shortly after I did. That reminds me…
“Luc?” I venture, brows drawing together in a frown. “My parents mentioned something tonight… Remember Mario? The man I told you my father wanted me to marry?”
Luc keeps his gaze forward, but I don’t miss how his jaw tightens beneath the trimmed layer of scruff. When he responds, his voice is murderously calm. “What about him?”
“They said his body was found in the Hudson.” I watch his reaction closely. When my mother first told me, my envy-ravaged mind hadn’t fully comprehended the implications of the news.
He gives away nothing, merely acknowledging my statement with an unconcerned hum. His apathetic reaction only raises my suspicions.
“You already knew?” I prompt as we step outside through a set of back doors. A brisk breeze sweeps past, and goosebumps pepper my flesh.
Another unbothered hum. “Have they found his hands and his cock as well, then?”
My mouth falls open, and I wrench my hand away from his. “ Luc! ”
“He touched you, Viviana.” Luc frowns and stops walking long enough to shake out his blazer and drape it over my bare shoulders. Despite the shocking revelation about Mario’s fate, warmth seeps into my bones. “Without your consent. Did you really think I would let him live?”
I pause. He always claimed that he’d do unspeakable things for me. Now, he has. I should be more disturbed, but some twisted, dark part of myself revels in the knowledge that the most powerful man in the Cosa Nostra will hunt and kill in defense and honor of my name. Perhaps I’m more fit to be a mafia boss’ wife than I thought.
Luc takes back my hand, his rough callouses scraping against my palm, and I let him lead me to the car. He doesn’t speak again until we’re seated in the back seat, shadows rolling past the windows as Freddy drives us back to our home on the estate.
“Are you angry with me?” Worry edges his voice, and his thumb strokes my knuckles.
I turn to face him, meeting his gaze in the darkness. “No.”
Sliding across the bench seat, I press myself into Luc’s side and rest my head on his shoulder, and the tension instantly drains from his muscles.
No, I’m not angry at all. Anger is a familiar, easy emotion. What I feel for this man is anything but.
When we arrive at the house, Luc carries me bridal-style upstairs. He nudges his bedroom door closed with a foot before carefully depositing me on his bed, the same place I’ve been sleeping for the last week with Biggie.
“Wait here,” he instructs, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “I’ll wash you up.”
I push up onto my elbows and snort. “Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not that big. I’m still able to walk myself to the bathroom, y’know.”
Luc chuckles and pinches my cheek. “Humor me. Let me take care of you.”
Pursing my lips, I consider putting up more of a fight then decide against it. It’ll be nice to have another person care for me. “Fine. But help me get out of this dress first?”
He nods and helps me stand up. His hands are quick and austere, refusing to linger on any newly exposed stretch of skin for too long as he unzips the back of my dress. Before long, it’s a puddle of red at my feet, and a prickle of self-consciousness tickles between my shoulder blades.
Modesty feels silly after what we just did on his parents’ staircase, but my bravado has faded by now, and I’m starkly aware that this is the first time I’ve ever been naked in front of a man. My hands clamp into fists at my side as I feel Luc’s gaze on my back, and I’m suddenly very conscious of my inadequacies.
The faintest whisper of a touch brushes down my spine, gentle as a ghost’s caress all the way to the base. When Luc speaks, I feel his breath against my neck. “Sit down. I’ll be right back.”
Footsteps sound behind me, leading to the bathroom. I take the opportunity to grab the blanket folded neatly across the foot of his bed and drape it over my shoulders for protection. The bathroom faucet turns on and off, and I hold the blanket closed at my chest with one hand and perch on the edge of the mattress.
Luc returns without his suit, clad in a pair of black sweatpants instead. A damp washcloth waits in his hands, and he takes note of the blanket. “Are you cold?”
“A little bit.” It’s a white lie, since my skin feels warm and flushed at the sight of him half-naked before me. Although I try to ignore it and look anywhere else, my eyes are drawn to the solid bulge at the front of his sweats. Did he ever properly go down after we had sex?
I have some strange, feminine urge to drop to my knees and satiate his unsatisfied need. To draw the cinched waist of his sweatpants down to his thick thighs and wrap my hands around his base. To run my tongue up and down the satin-like skin and taste the seam splitting his bulbous head. Every romance book I’ve read describes a man’s release as salty, and I want to know for myself…
He emits a displeased grunt. “I’ll be quick then. Open up for me, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. God, my insides melt, and the liquid heat settles straight at my center.
I hesitate for a moment, then, cinching the blanket tighter around my shoulders and breasts, spread my legs. Lamps on either side of the bed illuminate Luc’s features as he slowly drops to his knees in front of me. He’s almost eye-level with my sex, and my embarrassment burns up into arousal at the ravenous intensity shining in his gaze.
“I love this,” he breathes, dragging his index finger along my lips, starting at the sensitive nub at my apex and ending at my sore, stretched entrance. He doesn’t prod or try to enter, and I can’t decide whether I’m disappointed or relieved by his self-control. “My cum is still inside of you. It’s the sexiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.”
Soon, the washcloth presses against my mound, and I nearly moan at the wet warmth of it. My head rolls back as Luc slowly massages the fabric over me. He washes away the blood and semen on my thighs, then rubs circles over my pussy, and I feel the tug of the cloth against my womanly curls. By the time he slips the washcloth between my folds, it has lost some of its warmth.
Goosebumps spread over my arms, and my nipples tighten and ache.
“ Mmm, ” I groan at the cotton’s friction against my clit and clamp my eyes shut.
Without warning, Luc’s tongue replaces the washcloth. My eyes wrench open. It’s a slow, thorough lick that spans from my hole to my clit, and it rips the air straight from my lungs. I drop the blanket, bracing both hands behind my body.
A breathless curse slips from my mouth, incoherent as I devour the sight of his head bowed between my thighs. His crown of dark hair bobs as he ravages my hot, engorged flesh, and his beard scrapes mercilessly against the insides of my legs. A tight, hot feeling builds in my core.
Earlier, I thought I’d known pleasure. Now, as Luc shifts his technique and sucks my overly-sensitive nub into his mouth, I realize we’ve only scratched the surface. My fingers tangle in his hair, pushing his head down out of some backwards fear that he might stop before my orgasm. It’s a silly thought, since he seems to be enjoying himself almost as much as me.
Occasionally, he emits a growl of satisfaction. When I whimper, his lips curl into a smirk before he continues feasting. He pushes my hips down to hold me in place, his teeth gently grazing my clit as he sucks me into his mouth again. Electricity sparks at the base of my spine. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh—
I shatter.
It’s the most powerful thing I’ve ever experienced, brutal and wonderful. A force capable of destroying and creating stars. For several long moments, I’m suspended in time and space. And, when I come down, the aftershocks of pleasure render me helpless.
When I regain my senses, I blink. Somewhere along the way, I ended up on my back, eyes to the ceiling. With heavy, slow movements, I push onto my elbows. The sight of Luc pressing doting kisses to my hips and inner thighs greets me.
“Shit,” I mutter, hoarse. It’s only then that I realize I must have been loud.
He rises from his knees and crawls onto the bed, settling over me. “Do you feel better?”
I grin, though it’s smothered by his lips, and nod. I can taste myself on his lips—musky but not altogether unpleasant. He only stops when I cup his cheeks in my hands. We’re panting, chest to chest, and something like adoration fills his gaze.
“If I’d known sex would be so fun, I would’ve done it a long time ago,” I muse, sliding my fingers down his neck and to his bare shoulders. Chords of muscle ripple beneath warm skin, tight from bracing himself above me.
He nips my bottom lip, then soothes it by sucking it into his mouth. “It doesn’t usually feel this good. You, Viviana, are exceptional .”
My heart flutters at the praise, and I’m overcome by the need to return the favor. I reach between our bodies, searching for the hard mass pressed tight against my lower belly. My fingers dip below the elastic waistband and brush against hot skin. Emboldened, I wrap my palm around it. Luc sucks in a breath.
I freeze. “Is this okay?”
He nods. “Yes. Keep going.”
My fingers barely touch, and I’m beginning to understand why my vagina still aches from our first joining. I don’t know how the hell I managed to accommodate him.
I tighten my grip and stroke, pumping my fist up and down just like I saw him do to himself in the shower. He’s incredibly soft—a silky exterior wrapped around thick, unrelenting steel. He shudders, the muscles lining his back twitching, and a sense of power spreads through me.
“Sit up,” I direct, employing the same commanding tone he’s used with me countless times.
My strokes pause, just long enough for him to heed my request. He sits back on his heels, knees bent like at an altar, and his cock juts straight up, nearly reaching his belly button. His black sweatpants hang mid-thigh, giving me an unobstructed view.
“I—” My cheeks flame hot, but I can’t make myself look away. “You’re beautiful.”
Luc doesn’t respond, but his cock pulses, and a bead of liquid collects at the tip. His hands curl into tight fists on his thighs, as if he’s struggling to hold himself back from chasing the pleasure he obviously craves.
I push to my own knees and wrap my palm around him again. Giving it a long, sturdy stroke, I watch his features contort in ecstasy. “Like this?”
“Yes,” he groans. “Yes, just like that.”
I repeat the movement again and again. When a sound tumbles from his throat or his hips jerk forward, I take note of what elicited such a response and replicate it. Soon, his chest heaves with deep breaths and his hips rock forward and back in time with my hand. He rises to his knees, thrusting into my fist.
“I’m going to come, cattivella ,” he rasps, lips parted.
I think he means it as a warning, but I only pump faster, praying that I’m offering him even a fraction of the pleasure he gave me.
Within seconds, it hits him, and streams of hot, white liquid spill from his tip. It coats my fist, spurting as far as my thighs and making a mess of the blanket beneath us. I don’t stop until there’s nothing left, and Luc trembles when I stroke him one last time.
Pulling my hand back, I study Luc as he sits on his heels again. I worry my bottom lip. “Was that… good? ”
He chuckles, drawing the waistband of his sweats back up and over his member. “What do you think?”
“I think…” A devious smile plays on my lips. “I’d like to try with my mouth next time.”
Luc pauses, his pupils flare. “Careful sweetheart. If you keep saying things like that, there won’t be a virgin hole left on your body by the time the night is over.”
His words don’t strike as much fear in me as they probably should, and, feeling reckless and confident and giddy, I cock a brow. “Is that a promise, Luciano ?”
“Jesus. You’ll be the death of me.” He rakes a hand through his hair, then scoops me up off the bed, carrying me to the bathroom. “Come on. Let’s get to the shower before we make another mess.”