23. Serafina
CHAPTER 23
Serafina
I slam my bedroom door shut behind me, my shoulders sagging under the weight of this facade. Mamma's words echo in my mind—"Serafina, you must be nice to Luciano. Capisce? Our family is counting on you."
I let out a shaky breath as I kick off my heels. The memory of Luciano's hand on my waist, his cologne invading my senses, makes my skin crawl. But worse was the hurt in Lucas's stormy eyes as he watched us, his jaw clenched tight.
Peeling off my dress, I step into the shower and turn the water as hot as I can stand. Steam billows around me as I scrub at my skin, desperate to wash away the guilt, the pretending, the nastiness of it all.
Perché? Why must my family's problems become my burden to bear? Hot tears mix with the cascading water. Memories of Lucas leaving the restaurant in a hurry flood my mind. I wanted to run after him and tell him that my smiles were just a facade, that whenever I was forced to be around Luciano, I pretended it was Lucas I imagined I was with.
But he never returned. Did he go to his gym to take out his anger in a punching bag? Is he drowning his sorrows in tequila at the local bar?
I want to call him, to explain everything and reassure him that it's all just an act. But I can't. Not now. It's not safe for either of us. I know my family is still watching every move I make; the last thing I want is for them to harm him.
I have to be strong. Even if it means ripping my own heart out.
I freeze as I step out of the steamy bathroom, wrapped in only a towel. There, sitting on my bed, is Lucas.
In the dim light, I can just make out his silhouette, his broad shoulders slumped, head bowed. The scent of tequila wafts through the air. "Lucas?" I whisper, my heart pounding against my ribs. "Are you crazy? Did anyone see you come in?"
He lifts his head and shakes his head before meeting my gaze. I can see the anguish etched on his handsome face, even in the shadows. "I couldn't stay away, Serafina. Not after tonight."
Slowly, I approach him, my bare feet inching toward him. He watches me, his eyes glinting with a mix of pain and longing that mirrors my own. I stop before him, close enough to touch, and he reaches out, his calloused hands grazing my hips, causing sparks of pleasure to spread through my damp skin.
"Seeing you with him, it's killing me." His voice is raw, thick with emotion. "I can't do it. I can't watch you with him when you should be with me."
Tears sting my eyes as I cradle his face in my hands, tilting his head up to meet my gaze. The agony I see there steals my breath. My strong, brave Lucas, brought to his knees by the cruel twists of fate that have ensnared us both.
"Then do something about it," my voice cracks with raw emotion, desperation seeping through every word.
He rises to his feet, pulling me flush against his hard body, and captures my mouth in a searing kiss that sets my soul ablaze. In that moment, the world falls away - Luciano, the Mancinis, the impossible choices that loom before us. There is only Lucas, the man who holds my heart in his hands.
Lucas's hands roam my body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His lips trail down my neck, and I arch my back. "Lucas," I moan, my thoughts becoming a blur of pleasure and need.
"Dime, mi reina," he growls, looking down at me with those stormy eyes. "Tell me, my queen, what you want."
"You," I pant, feeling a shiver of desire run through me.
My fingers feel his chest, causing him to wince in pain. I tear my lips away from his and rip open his pristine white shirt. My eyes widen as I see the fresh ink of his new tattoo etched into his skin. Two beautiful angel wings and my initials front and center. An homage to our connection.
"Is this what you were up to when you disappeared on me?" My voice is laced with both anger and curiosity.
He nods at me with a small smile as he grabs my hand and places it on top of the plastic wrap. "You'll always have my heart," he says softly, the meaning behind his words sinking in deep.
It's clear that he feels the same way I do, and I'll be dammed if I let myself walk away from him now. Fuck family obligations.
I step back and let my towel fall to my ankles. His eyes take my entire body in. "You're so fucking beautiful." Lucas's words make me feel beautiful. Sensual. Like a fucking goddess. And for a moment, I forget about all the insecurities that have plagued me for years - the stretch marks on my hips, the cellulite on my thighs and butt, my not-so-flat tummy. All that matters is his hunger for me, his appreciation for every inch of my body.
I let out a shaky breath as he stands up and steps closer, his hands reaching out to caress my curves. His touch is gentle yet possessive, his fingers tracing patterns along my skin that send tremors of desire coursing through me.
"You're mine," he says harshly, pinning me against the wall. "It's time to remind you who this body belongs to." The roughness of the wall against my back ignites waves of pleasure throughout my body.
His lips find mine again, and our kisses grow more urgent and desperate. He steps between my legs, and I gasp as he slips his fingers inside me, finding my slick, wet entrance.
"You're so fucking wet for me," he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. I feel exposed and vulnerable, and completely unable to resist the commanding force that he exudes.
"Look at that," he says, his voice rough with lust. "So fucking beautiful."
I glance down, biting my lip as I watch him stroke his cock with my slickness. Before I can process what's happening, he lifts me and sets me down on my desk as if I weigh nothing at all. He then gently places my ankles over his shoulders, causing me to arch my back slightly off the desk.
"Spread your legs wide," he demands.
I obey without question, feeling the cool wood of the table against my back and ass. My legs are now suspended over his forearms. He steps closer, parting my folds with his thumbs, exposing my swollen pink clit.
"You're going to take every inch of this cock," he growls as he gently circles my clit with his thumb.
Without warning, he pushes inside me, filling me up in one swift motion. I let out a high-pitched moan, feeling him stretching me with his large cock. He begins to thrust deeply inside me, his hips slapping against my ass cheeks with each powerful stroke.
"Fuck," he grunts. "This pussy is all mine."
His fingers dig into my hips, leaving bruises as he guides my gaze to meet his. His grey eyes mirror my feelings - lust, need, and love.
"Please," I whisper. "Don't stop."
As he continues to pound into me, I feel the familiar rush of pleasure building up inside me. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the room, accompanied by our labored breathing and the occasional grunt of pleasure.
"You have my heart," he pants. "I'm yours."
As waves of pleasure wash over me, I respond breathlessly, "And I'm… yours." I wrap my legs around his sturdy midsection, pulling him closer to me.
Without warning, he grabs my hair and pulls my head back, exposing my vulnerable neck. His free hand reaches down, finding my clit once again. He circles it slowly at first, sending electric shockwaves through my body. Then he increases the pressure, his fingers digging into my swollen flesh as he edges me toward the brink of orgasm.
"Come for me," he demands.
I whimper in response, arching my back as I feel myself falling apart beneath him. With one final thrust, he pushes me over the edge, crying out as his cock twitches inside me, filling me with his hot seed.
As we catch our breaths, he leans down and kisses me gently on the forehead. "Mine," he whispers once more, his voice filled with satisfaction and possession.