Chapter 19 Toma
NINETEEN
TOMA
Icollapse on top of her and she welcomes me.
The cocoon of her embrace is a lie. It can’t last. Yet, I close my eyes and let myself dream for a moment.
While my heart slows again and my breaths return to normal, I let myself imagine a future where everyday looks like this.
Lucie, safe and sound, freshly fucked and satiated in my bed, in my arms, with no threats to her life or mine.
I wouldn’t say no to a kid or two, as well.
My cock twitches at the thought. Lucie hums and I smile, lifting on my elbows to take her in. Her hair is a mess but her skin glows.
“Hi,” she murmurs.
“Hi.”
I swallow hard, unsure if I should move. I don’t want to. I’ll never let her go, but I want her to want me. If she kicks me out now, I’ll go but I’ll be shattered. Yet, she doesn’t seem to mind my pressing weight and kisses my brow, my lips, my jaw.
“Lu,” I start, gliding my fingers on the scars on her lush thighs.
“Please don’t ask.”
She hides her face with both hands and I kiss the back of her palms, staying above her so I can watch every micro-expression on her face. How did I miss this?
“How long has it been?”
“A few years.”
“Look at me.” She opens her hands a little, a vulnerable shine in her hazel eyes sucking me in. “Will you help me understand?”
She pushes me with both hands on my chest but I don’t move at first, unwilling to be away from her heat and soft body.
“I have to pee, first.”
“Oh shit.”
I press onto my hands and untangle myself from her. When my cock slips out, I look down, mesmerised by the traces of us we left behind. I gather our cum with my fingers and push it back in, and Lucie’s back arches, a soft groan leaving her. “Stop, I’m so sensitive.”
Reluctantly, I climb off the bed and on shaky legs, I walk her to the bathroom where Biscuit is going crazy, yapping like the little demon she is.
“I’ll take her out,” I tell Lucie as I throw on my pants, commando underneath, and grab my dog in my hand.
“But you’ll be back. Right?”
Lucie’s expression is so earnest. Even if it’s what I hoped she’d say, or something along those lines, asking me to stay strikes me right in the black organ that serves as a heart in my ribcage.
“Yeah, Lu. I’ll be back. When you’re ready, come to the living room. I’ll cook something for us. I’ll listen if you’re up to talking to me.”
“It’s really not that interesting.”
“Everything about you fascinates me, ru?ica moja.”
After I take Biscuit outside, I don’t wait long to come back to Lucie’s side. Mina sure shows me as much contempt as she can as I pass by her in the living room but I pay her no mind. If anything, I’m glad Lucie has a fierce friend by her side, ready to defend her and go to battle for her.
“You know,” I address her casually as she pets Biscuits’s head. “If I were looking to escape the Irish mafia, I’d go where they’d never look.”
“And where is that?” Mina asks.
Her and Lucie have the same sassy attitude when they think they know better. It’s cute.
“The mother country.”
I let her draw her own conclusions and march back into Lucie’s bedroom.
My girl is dressed again, and I immediately want to get rid of the frilly lounge set with my teeth. She throws on a fluffy robe on top, and we move to the large kitchen area. I’m no cook but I can make a mean marinara.
Biscuit makes a home on one of the pillows discarded on the floor and I kiss her little head, leaving her behind.
Lucie slides her hand in mine, threading our fingers together and I swallow, heart in my throat.
It’s so nice. Intimate. Maybe even more so than when we had sex.
I don’t understand how that’s possible. When I look down, Lucie’s smile is bashful and pride surges through me.
She decided I was worthy of that small attention and I couldn’t be happier.
“Sit down, Lu.”
I kiss her forehead, lingering to take in the smell of her shampoo and the very faint traces of me on her skin. She relaxes and sits at a high chair at the bar area, set up just in front of the stove. I turn my back on her while I cook, giving her the opportunity to talk about those scars of hers.
They’re so deep. Like she cut herself over and over at the same spot for years, never letting them heal fully.
A bottle of white wine is open in the fridge and I pour a glass each, then hand one to her.
Our eyes collide as we clink them together, and my cock twitches.
Any time I look at her, I get hard. She’s so damn beautiful and captivating.
My body has a mind of its own, but I refuse to listen to it right now.
She needs a container for how she feels, how she felt
I turn around again and hear her take a big gulp of wine.
“My parents died when I was twelve. And I… I wasn’t a good kid. I was difficult. Angry all the time. They were busy doing what adults in the mafia do. And I felt lonely I guess.”
She pauses. It’s hard to concentrate on the tomatoes while she offers me that piece of her. It’s so monumental. But once she opens the valves, there’s no stopping her.
“The night they died, I told them I hated them,” she chokes. “The last words I said to my parents were words of hate and anger.”
A sobs escapes her and I drop the knife, wipe my hands on a clean kitchen towel before making my way to her side in a few steps. I don’t wait for her to tell me she needs me. I wrap her into my arms, surround her with my strength.
Tears soak my tee-shirt. And words keep flowing out of her.
“I’ll never forgive myself. If I had been good, if I had told them I love them, maybe things would be different.” She hiccups.
“It wouldn’t have changed the wars your family was involved in.”
“I miss them.”
She continues to cry into my arms and my heart break for her. If I could, I’d take all the shards left at her feet and use them to fill in the cracks of hers.
When she calms, her voice is quiet, almost meek.
“I felt so guilty. The knife started as an attempt at joining them. But it hurt and I’m a coward.
And I loved my dad—my adoptive dad— and didn’t really want to leave him behind.
Then, it became a friend, a way to anchor my pain into the physical, you know?
I was always so sad but emotions are… I don’t know how to describe it.
They’re so fleeting, and raw and hard to grasp.
When I bled in my bathtub, the red was stark against white, the pain was intense. It was tangible.”
She looks up at me, her cheeks red and eyes swollen, yet she’s never been so beautiful, granting me her vulnerability when I know she hides it from everyone else.
“Thank you for telling me, Lu. How did you stop?”
She pushes away from me and I take it as my cue to return to my cooking. But this time, I keep glancing back at her, showing her that I’m here and ready to hear the rest of her story.
“Two years ago, I went on a boat trip with some friends. A girl I know made a comment about them, thinking they were stretch marks.” She scoffs and I want to get the name of that bitch to teach her a lesson. “Told me I really needed to get surgery to remove them.”
I slowly turn, the knife still in my hand. “What’s her name?”
Lucie licks her lips, leaving the bottom one wet and ready for my teeth. God, I love it when she’s out for blood.
“I already took care of her.”
My eyebrow hits my forehead. She’s not the type to kill someone for petty reasons. I doubt she’s ever killed someone, actually.
“I didn’t kill her.” She rolls her eyes playfully, and I drink her in. “I simply made sure her reputation was ruined and she had to move countries.”
“So ruthless, ru?ica moja.”
“Now, your turn.”
“My turn?”
“How come you were a virgin until a few hours ago?”
The memory sours my mood, but she shared her past. I can do the same. That’s the least I can do for her.
I leave the sauce on a low fire and take a seat next to her, pulling the paw of her high chair towards me so she gets as close as we can while not having her on my lap. Our thighs touch. The heat of her skin, even through our clothes is distracting but I refocus on her question.
I take a sip of wine, and brace for the pity she’ll inevitably feel for me. And the flashback sending me straight back.
“My father killed my mother in front of me. My brother has a habit of strangling his girlfriends once he’s done with them.
” Her eyes widen but she clamps her mouth shut.
A muscle jumps in her jaw, and that flash of anger, on my behalf, makes me want to drop to my knees and worship her.
“I learnt early on that women are disposable for my family. I never wanted anyone to die because I wanted to get my dick wet. My morals are skewed at the best of times but that was too much.”
Her gaze is so intense, fire ablaze in her irises. I don’t know what to do with it so I joke around instead. That’s what my brother’s men did, all my life. “And I waited for the one, anyway.”
But as I say the words, they ring true and I can’t even summon laughter.
Lucie frames my face and drags me down. Our lips clash in a fierce kiss that has me dizzy. Her tongue seeks entry and I open for her. She lashes out. I follow. It’ll always be like this between us.
A fizzy sound breaks our heated kiss and I look to the stove to see the marinara going over.
With one last peck on my lips, Lucie whispers against my mouth, “I’m honoured to be yours, piccolo.”
I clench my jaw not to react. Not to get one one knee and ask her to fucking marry me, be mine forever.
Instead, I get to the stove and finish preparing our meal. We eat sharing funny gossip of the Ventura-Dobrev coalition. These men are teenagers, I swear. Lucie tells me where she travelled and what she loved most.
At some point, Mina joins us. She’s not warming up to me, watching me like she’s waiting for me to fuck up and shoot my ass for the mistake. It warms me. Lucie needs a friend like her.
“I’m going to be a grief counsellor one day,” Lucie says animatedly. “I don’t want anyone to go through what I went through on their own.”
“I thought you wanted to become a psychiatrist,” Mina interjects.
“I do. But I want to specialise. Help people who’ve lost important ones. Possibly at a young and formative age. Like you and me,” she adds while sending me a quick look, then taking another bite of the pasta.
I kiss her, tasting her dreams on her lips. “You’ll be the best.”
“Gross. Please don’t do that in front of me. I never want to see another PDA.”
“You say that, but I bet someone is going to sweep you off your feet.”
“As long as it’s not an asshole Irish mob boss,” she declares then clinks her glass to ours.
After dinner, Lucie and I retire to her bedroom after the longest hug between Mina and my girl. Mina gives me a nod. That’s as close as I’ll get to approval so I’ll take it.
I take Biscuit on one last walk while Lucie gets into bed. When I’m back, I remove my shoes, discard my clothes and climb into bed next to her, butt-naked.
Without hesitation or preamble, I remove Lucie’s clothes. The little shorts are tempting my restraint and the thin top covers nothing anyway.
“Toma, what are you doing?”
“As long as I sleep in your bed, you’ll be naked, Lu. How’s your ankle?”
She huffs but before long, her body softens against mine. “It’s still swollen but I can put weight on it.”
I don’t resist the need to paw at her and she lets me, wiggling against me, her breathing picking up.
“What about Biscuit?” she asks but doesn’t make any move to push me away.
“What about her? She won’t see you. Besides, nothing’s happening.”
When my hand descends towards her pussy, she opens her legs without a second thought and I smile against her skin as I kiss her neck.
“Are you wet for me, Lu?”
She hums and nods. I circle her clit, getting her ready for what I have in mind. Her wet heat welcomes me. Lifting her leg, I slide inside her agonisingly slowly. And stay there.
I stop any movements and return to hugging her to my chest, nose against her nape. I’m high on her smell. Having her in my arms is a fucking dream. I never want to wake up.
She tries to move and struggles to find purchase to get what she needs but this time, I’m not letting her. I clamp a hand on her hip. “Stop,” I command. “You’re not coming now. You’re going to warm my cock all night and tomorrow, I’ll make you come as many times as you want.”
She moans and I chuckle.
“I like the sound of that,” she says in the dark, a smile I can’t see but her clearly spreading across her face.
I kiss her neck.
“Piccolo?”
“Yes, ru?ica moja?”
“I…”
I wait with bated breaths for the brave girl I know to ask for what she wants.
“I want you to chase me. In the woods.”
“You want a beast to fuck you raw, Lu?”
“Yes. And I want you to keep your mask on.”
My cock gets incredibly harder inside her, swelling with the deviant promise she’s whispering. What happened between us this evening was just a prelude.
“If your ankle is healed, I’ll chase you. I’ll catch you. And I promise, I’ll ruin you.”
Lucie turns her head and guides my lips to hers in a soft kiss that’s so contrary to the dark desires stirring through us. But it’s us. It’s perfect. I can’t wait.
Soon, her soft snores lull me to the best sleep I’ve ever had, filled with dreams of my prey.