35. Luca
Ara wraps her legs around my waist when I pick her up. I want to devour every inch of this woman. I just can’t get enough of her. Yet every kiss tastes likes poison, lies and truth. A combination that has kept my little stalker alive for this long. I want to punish her but also take away all her worries.
And that startling realization is dangerous. Because I don’t care about anyone. A little moan escapes her as I press her back against the bed.
“Who was it you were pretending to be tonight?” I ask as I feather my fingers through the lifelike wig. She kicks up a smile, embracing the gift I offer her, to push all of those memories back into the pandora’s box they came from.
“Besides security, no one else asked for my name,” she cunningly says.
I lower my lips to hers again. “Good.”
She presses a hand against my chest, cautiously halting me. “Luca. My father is going to make me marry someone in six months’ time. Whatever this is will have to come to an end.”
I charm a smile and kiss along her neck and jaw. “You’re already so deep in it, sweetheart. There’s no escaping now. Whoever he tries to arrange your marriage with I’ll simply kill.”
“Luca.” Her voice is stern now. When I look down I see the burning reprieve through thick eyelashes and green eyes that sparkle with hints of blue. “I’m not the same as you. I don’t like violence. I don’t like you sending me chopped up hands and feet. As twisted as I might be, we’re too different. Besides, this thing between us…is madness. Everything I know about you points to the fact that you should’ve killed me the moment you found out my real identity. So why haven’t you?”
“So eager to die, my little stalker?” I ask running a finger against her collar bone and the faint remains of the scar. Our conversation tonight has confirmed my suspicions of our fathers’ previous dealings. The thought of someone standing over Ara with a blade to her throat unfurls something sinister within me. Her gaze shifts cautiously from my obvious killing intent. My jaw tics.
“What are you going to do with me?” she asks again and this time there is a hint of fear. I don’t understand why it unsettles me. I’ve always taken pleasure from people fearing me. From being shocked and frightened by the power I wield and how easily I can shake up their world. But now…when Ara looks at me with a similar expression, I don’t like it.
It’s the same feeling I had when I looked up at her from the fighting ring. I despised she had concern for Dmitri’s wellbeing. Ordinarily I would’ve beaten him to a pulp. However, there’s a hold this woman has over me I can’t entirely understand. She’s a mystery as much as she is an obvious weakness.
“I’m not sure yet,” I say truthfully. “What I do know is tonight, I’m going to fill that sweet little cunt of yours with my cock. Whatever other night I demand, you’ll be a good girl and do as your told.”
Her eyebrows furrow and she leans away from my kiss. “I need you to agree to something for me.”
I chuckle because I don’t take orders from anyone. But fuck does she know she has me at checkpoint because my cock is throbbing for her. This little bit of vulnerability from her and requests turning me on like wildfire. Because she’s the only one that’s daring enough to feel she’s entitled to it. Or maybe I was still coming down from the high of the fight.
“No more chopped up body parts for presents. And no violence in front of me.”
I laugh but she crosses her arms over her chest. I feel the distance between us the moment she pulls her hands away from my waist.
Fuck do I want her. This woman who I should’ve killed the moment I laid eyes on her. It’s been a fun game watching her get caught in my web. At every point she’s pushed back despite her impending doom. At every intersection I’ve come after her. “I’ll only promise no more chopped body parts. The violence however, I can’t promise. It’s every part of my being, Ara. It’s what I was raised to do and be. Not even you can change that.”
My hand curls around the dark leather of her pants, squeezing her thigh. I want her. In every way. But unlike the other time’s I’ve taken her, she’s different tonight. There’s less resistance. I don’t know why, but I want to reward her for it, worship her even, handle her gentler in a way I’ve never known how to fuck someone before.
“How do you want me now, sweetheart?” I ask her. Despite how riveting the fight was tonight, Ara is my only prize.
She leans up to kiss me, but it’s gentler than usual. Different than any way a woman has kissed me. A hidden message I don’t entirely comprehend but I match her lazy strokes and let her take from me what she will.
Her hips roll against my cock while her hands roam over my shoulders freely. Ara’s breath hitches as her feather light touch dances over the scar on my back. Without voicing it I shift to show her, aware she’s curious.
“Who did this to you?” she asks. I have numerous scars but it’s the most obvious one.
“How about I tell you while we both get naked. Does that sound like a good deal?”
Tension ripples from her but she nods and begins with her shirt. I watch as she unpeels the tight leather as I stand to undo my own belt and trousers. We study one another, every second straining the tension between us.
I casually reward her with an answer as we strip. “My father did when I was fourteen as a lesson to not defy any of his orders. He used a fireplace poker to brand me.”
She pauses, with one leg shuffling out of the leather. “Your own father did that to you?”
I casually shrug. It wasn’t the only scar made by his hand, but it was the most visible. “You might’ve been only introduced to violence at the age of twelve but it was the very first thing I can remember.”
My very first memory was of my father brutally beating a man to death when a business deal had gone wrong.
Ara looks like she’s either about to cry or vomit. “What did you do to deserve that scar?”
I impatiently sigh. It’s souring the mood so I’m quick to get the answer over with. Ara might pity me, but I have no ounce of emotional attachment to the violent world I was raised in. It made me stronger. It made me the best.
“I received this particular punishment because I beat the shit out of a group of seniors for calling Dario an incompetent prick. The year after, I made sure to fuck all of their girlfriends as well.” I remove my belt entirely while still watching her undress. She’s watching me in the same way although I can tell she’s uneasy with my confession. I elaborate. “My father discouraged our violence publicly. He was known for his and wanted to set us on a different path. A more cunning one as we incorporated further into Manhattan’s social circles. At the time, I didn’t care.”
Ara unclips her wig thoughtfully. “That’s horrible and yet sounds like exactly something you would do.”
I chuckle as I step out of my trousers, my cock rock hard. I drink her hour shape figure in, wanting to bathe in her perfectly bronzed complexion for days. Her black hair fans around her face, almost perfectly. “I think it’s about time I make that pretty little ass of yours, mine.”
She steps toward me and cups my face and I’m startled by the endearing look she offers me. It makes me as uncomfortable as it does the desire to have more of it.
“I’m sorry you experienced your own hardships too,” she says and I’m taken aback. I can’t even throw a smart-ass response back because she stretches on her tippy toes and kisses me as her hand wraps around my cock.