19. Ara
Iwas fucking grinding into his hand like my salvation depended on it. And right when I was on the edge, he pulled out. What an actual monster.
“Stop staring at me like that, Ara. You’ll sour the dinner.”
Now, I sit across from him on a docked boat. Candles are placed around the deck. A butler and personal chef are at our disposable. Let’s not forget about his loyal lacky, Lorenzo, who stands directly behind him, poised at the entrance in case anyone even attempts to board.
I look down at the chicken carbonara, one of my favorite dishes, while Luca cuts into his bloody steak.
I take a sip of the red wine as I fume. I was so fucking close to getting off because of this jerk, and I can’t even stand him.
“You’re not still upset about what happened in the car, are you?”
“No,” I snap. Another sip.
He chuckles and I hate how haunting and beautiful it is. This man could have anyone on the planet. Granted, I don’t think they’d hold his attention for long. But he has the looks, money, and charm. Not with me though. As long as a woman doesn’t find out about him being the boss of the Italian mafia, he looks perfect on paper.
“I just don’t understand,” I boldly state. “Why haven’t you killed me yet?”
He considers his steak on the end of his fork before biting down. I know he’s intentionally taking his time to annoy me. It seems to be his new favorite game. He ever so slowly wipes his mouth.
“It’s not fun if you ask for my intentions outright. I could ask you the same as to why you were at my family mansion that night.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “Well, it’s not exactly like it’s your mansion. You hardly ever visit.”
He smiles. “I find it so fascinating after six months you think you know everything about me.”
“I find it interesting how, after only a few weeks, you’ve epically pissed me off.”
He chuckles. Lorenzo’s eyebrows dip slightly in confusion. Perhaps not many speak to his boss like this. Or for those who have… They never saw their next meal.
“Eat.” He points to my meal.
I don’t know what it is about this man, but I simply refuse to give into his every whim. A man like Luca is used to obedience. It’s just one part I can’t give him. I’ve had my whole life dictated by a man trying to control every step. I’ll be fucked if I’m going to let a new one show up on the scene and think he has the same right.
He pushes out on his chair and taps on his knee. “Sit.”
“I’m not a dog.”
“I wouldn’t consider you anything more.”
My jaw drops at his absolute certainty. “You are such an arrogant, entitled prick. Do you know that?”
He charms a smile that would knock most women off their feet. “A prick you were begging only thirty minutes ago to fuck.”
Heat spreads across my cheeks.
He taps his knee again.
I sigh, pushing up from my chair and circling the table. Because despite his ridiculous demands, unless I’m willing to jump overboard, I know this man won’t take no for an answer.
I sit on his knee and try to ignore the heat and spicy cologne that radiates from him. He snaps his fingers, and within seconds, the butler reappears. He picks up my plate of pasta and places it in front of me. With efficiency, Luca twirls a forkful.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Didn’t anyone teach you it’s rude to not eat a dish served in somone’s home,” he says as he hovers the pasta in front of my mouth.
“This is a boat,” I say dryly.
“This is a boat house I own. Therefore, it’s a home.”
We could go around like this in circles for hours. I sigh and push back part of my hair as I take a mouthful.
Flavor explodes in my mouth. He smiles knowingly.
“Okay yes, it’s good.”
“Good now that’s done.” He clicks his fingers. Seconds later, the butler walks up the staircase of where I imagine the kitchen to be downstairs. A candle and sparkler light a small white cake. My eyebrows furrow in confusion as I look at Luca.
“What is this?” I ask, my voice barely audible. Because suddenly, I remember what day it is.
“Happy Birthday,” Luca says as the butler pushes aside the main meals and places the cake in front of us.
Luca’s hand rests on my knee, his thumb casually rolling over it. I stare at the sparkler as it dwindles down to nothing.
I forgot it was my birthday. More specifically, I forgot because I haven’t celebrated it for sixteen years.
“Happy twenty-eighth birthday. It’s good luck to make a wish,” he says matter-of-fact. He leans into my ear, his hot breath flushing over my neck. “Don’t bother wasting your wish on me losing interest any time soon.”
My heart slightly fractures. For the memories buried deep in celebrating my last birthday with my mother when I was twelve. For my avoidance of it ever since. Luca surely couldn’t know that. He’s not a mind reader.
Even so, why would he go so far as to do all of this when he knows I’m targeting his family?
The sparkler fades leaving only the flickering candle.
“Leave us,” Luca commands when he notices my hesitation. The butler and Lorenzo make haste. “Make a wish, Ara.”
A lump is lodged in my throat and I can’t seem to push past it. “Why did you do this?” I ask confused.
“Well, I’m not a complete monster,” he says, but I can tell even he doesn’t believe himself.
I consider him for a moment. If my reluctance is too evident, it’s something he can use against me.
I push my hair back and lean over the candle. What should I wish for?
The only thing I’ve wished for over the past sixteen years.
I wish to kill the man who killed my mother.
I blow, watching the flame just as quickly extinguish.
Luca’s thumb continues brushing over my leg.
A white chocolate cake… My favorite type of chocolate. Everything is carefully considered. I’ve been perfectly stalked. An irony really.
“Is it poisoned?” I ask.
He chuckles. “I think I would find other delightful ways to murder you, Ara, like strangling this beautiful neck of yours.” His hand wraps around my throat and I’m reminded of the bruises he left behind last time. The way he almost choked me out.
Yet that pounding begins to thrum in my core again. Reminding me it wasn’t completely satisfied earlier.
I glide a finger across the thick white chocolate cream and offer it to him. Those thunderous blue eyes freeze me into place. The devil shouldn’t be this beautiful. Or charming. Or all consuming. It simply isn’t fair.
His tongue wraps around my finger, and I feel it tug at my core. My pussy begins to throb as he licks the cream off, his grip around my neck harsh and unrelenting.
Luca’s other hand grips my thigh tightly, those fingers bruising. The deeper they bury into me, the more I want to fuck him. Need to fuck him. I just need to be rid of this palpable tension.
“Not poison,” he says with a gravelly voice.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” I say as I lean toward him. His gaze drops to my lips. I expect him to yank back my hair or take the control back but instead he lets me come willingly.
My lips brush against his, the faint smell and taste of white chocolate remaining. Luca’s control snaps as he pushes his tongue against mine. I take everything he’s willing to offer. The hunger. The drive. The murderous intent.
I shouldn’t want it.
I shouldn’t need it.
But fuck, do I crave it.
He easily lifts me and twists me to straddle his thighs, his grip bruising. A cool breeze sweeps up my dress reminding me of my crotchless panties. I’m kissing him wildly and unforgivably as I brush my fingers through his hair.
Luca pulls back my hair, exposing my neck again. “This demanding mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble. Is that what you want my little stalker, trouble?” He stands with me still straddling him, holding me up with only one arm wrapped around my ass. His cock is pressing against my ass ever demanding. “Tell me you want it? Tell me you want me?”
I peer down at him from my angle. His blue eyes have darkened and he looks like a man that’s been depraved his entire life. That type of need and desire, directed in any woman’s way is a dangerous consumption and I am no exception to it. My pussy pounds with anticipation. Fuck, how can I say no to him right now?
“I want…sex,” I breathe out.
A haunting chuckle escapes him. “I don’t think you understand the precarious situation you’re in,” he says as he releases my hair and smashes plates of food to the ground. All but the cake. “I am the only one you’ll think of when you think about sex.” He slams my back onto the table. “If you make a mistake with any other man or woman…”
He picks up the sharp steak knife, and my breath hitches as he drags its tip along the outskirts of my thigh.
A cold dread rushes over me, but the hot heat I’m flushed with is unyielding. I don’t know whether to be turned on or whether I should run. The half-crazed man behind the mask is out now. All possessive lust.
The knife glides up the side of my dress, carving through the material as if it were butter.
“I like this dress,” I hiss.
“Then I’ll buy you more.” He’s almost to the top, and I watch him. Still unsure if he’s about to use the blade against me.
“You treat your whores so kindly.”
The knife flicks over my shoulder and his eyes lock with mine. Luca rips the dress from the side, discarding it onto the floor. His gaze roams down to the green lingerie he bought me approvingly. He licks his lips, and an odd swirl of satisfaction runs through me.
“You’re rewarded when you’re a good girl,” he says, slapping my clit. The smack shocks me and I momentarily see stars. “I’m going to fill your tight pussy with my cock.”
“Yes,” I breath restlessly. I go to push myself off the table so I can unbuckle his belt, but he pushes me back down, and a loud thud sounds as I hit the table.
He undoes his belt and pulls down his pants, and I’m reminded of the sheer size of his veiny cock. I lick my lips in anticipation. Luca scoops two fingers of cake and stuffs it in my mouth. There’s something primal in his gaze as he watches me with satisfaction as I roll my tongue around the sweetness, sucking on his fingers.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he says and it’s a strange, twisted compliment. One I’m not sure he’s even aware of. “You ready for me, sweet girl?”
I bite his fingers. Hard. His cock jerks in response. It’s extraordinary the amount of power I feel bringing this man to his knees. He yanks at my hips until I’m dangling over the side of the table. Without warning, he shoves himself into me to the hilt and a searing, pleasurable cry escapes me as he knocks the breath out of me.
Fuck. He’s huge. My eyes begin to water. Without warning he pulls out and pushes back in. Thrusting and not giving me the time to brace myself. But then it turns into a lull sense of rhythm where I am barely able to hang onto reality.
Is this real? Am I really fucking Luca Armani right now?
The moment my mind wanders I’m rattled by his next thrust, as if his demand is to keep my attention only on him.
My arm twists awkwardly and shoves into the cake as I try to ground myself for every slap of impact. My eyes roll in the back of my head as I’m slammed into repeatedly, the sound of slapping echoing. A cold breeze sweeps past me as I grab one of my tits, the other hand clutching the white tablecloth.
Luca’s hand slams on the table, his fingers curling into the cake. He fucks me like it’s his personal mission to destroy me. Maybe that’s exactly what he’s doing. Right now, I’m willing to let him. I’m at his mercy and begging for more.
He grabs the back of my legs and hooks my knees over his shoulder. The shift in movement has my toes curling and I’m screaming out his name. He’s deeper at this angle, knocking all sense out of me as he hits that spot over and over again.
“Such a good fucking girl,” he praises with a bruising grip.
“Yes,” I groan. “Yes!” I say louder. Fuck, do I want this release. Fuck, do I need it. “Luca. Let me fuck you until you come undone.”
I can feel the hesitation. The resistance he has to let me take any type of control. I purposefully squeeze my pussy around his cock, and he groans, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.
“Let me fuck you, Luca.” I grit out, all command.
He takes me with him as he sits back on the chair. I’m straddling him now, and I begin to ride him to my own euphoria.
His fingers glide over me, chunks of cake are covering my skin, but I don’t care as I bounce on his cock. He sucks on my nipples through the bralette, coated in cake.
I can feel a slight sweat glistening over me as it competes with the cool night breeze.
His other hand explores my ass, grabbing so hard it bruises. “This sweet asshole is going to belong to me, too.”
“Yes,” I breathe, so close to crumbling.
“Are you going to milk every drop out of my cock, sweetheart?”
“Yes,” I breathe again. My legs begin to clench around him as a wave begins to crawl over my body. His hand reaches my throat and I moan.
“Fuck,” I hear him grit. Luca’s grip tightens on my throat, and I can hardly breathe. I don’t care. I’m so fucking close.
So close.
Almost—
My body convulses as I break apart, his name a glorious cry on my lips.
Luca’s body goes rigid beneath me, and I can feel him filling me, pulse after pulse, filling me up as promised.
I continue milking him slowly, motioning my hips back and forth selfishly wanting every last drop.
Reality begins to sink in as my breathing slows. We’re both covered in cake. Those piercing blue eyes are missing nothing.
Luca’s hand is still around my throat, but his thumb now strokes delicately, thoughtfully. Perhaps thinking about whether he should snap my neck now he’s got what he wanted.
The harsh reality further sinks in as I realize I’d succumbed and submitted. I gave him exactly what he wanted.
And I fucking enjoyed it.
Am I actually out of my mind? I can’t submit to a man like this.
Because Luca Armani is a means to madness. Being too close for too long would inevitably make me a walking dead man, maybe even before I kill him.
A smile ticks up the corner of his mouth, the predator still in the room. “You can’t take this back, sweetheart. You’re still hungry for my cock.”
I grit my teeth, something seems to resonate well with him. Perhaps the more animalistic part of him. I step away, my heels clattering against the polished wood.
He tucks his cock back into his pants as I fold my arms over my chest and realize the devastating carnage around us. Food is splattered everywhere, and the cake is destroyed. Probably because we’re wearing half of it.
I need to leave. Immediately. If it was just giving Luca sex, I could do that if my life depended on it. This was something entirely different. I’m consumed by him, all my inhibitions left to the wayside.
“Thanks for the meal,” I say looking in the direction I need to leave.
He chuckles. “You can’t seriously be thinking of walking off like that.”
I look down at myself, reminded of the dress that’s a pile of fabric on the floor.
Luca removes his black dress shirt. My mouth snaps shut as his body comes into focus. That can’t be legal.
Eight abs trail down to the V-line of his cock. His belt still casually falls at his waist. And his arms. Fuck me, no wonder he could hold me up with only one arm.
He throws it in my direction. “I’ll have Lorenzo take you home.”
My eyebrows knit in confusion. “You’re going to let me go. Just like that?” I ask, disbelieving. It sounds almost stupid saying it out loud. He might have a sick obsession with me but wasn’t he like most men? He finally got what he wanted. The sex, right?
I truly wanted to believe that’s all this man wanted from me, but I know better than that.
He chuckles as I throw on and quickly button up his shirt, trying to hide away from his piercing gaze. “One would consider dining a whore before shoving her onto her back, rather sweet.”
Fuck Luca Armani. I hate I have no choice but to leave in his shirt but still walk toward the dock with my head held high. Shortly after, his bodyguard, Lorenzo, is stalking behind me.
Fucking jackass. I’m grateful it’s dark and no one watches me leaving the dock in Luca’s shirt truly doing the walk of shame.
I’m certain the only reason he let me go is because the prick likes this little cat and mouse game.
I pray this was enough to satisfy his needs and get me off his mind.
I also wasn’t sure if that’s the only leverage I have to stay alive.