Chapter 8
Eight
I feel hot. Is it hot in here?
He’s stripping. I am going to see Vitali De Luca, my kidnapper, naked.
I swallow hard, my eyes rounding as he begins to divest himself of his clothes. I glance away, my cheeks heating with embarrassment. I’ve never seen a man naked before.
“Wait,” I whisper, my eyes darting back to him. The dark glare he gives me silences me again. I’m not even sure what I would say. Instead, I simply watch.
With fluid grace, he sheds his clothing, discarding them without care as if they are mere obstacles in his path. My gaze involuntarily follows the movements of his hands, but I quickly avert my eyes, not wanting to seem as if I am somehow eager. Yet, every few seconds, I can’t help but steal glances at his form.
Vitali’s skin is a shimmering golden hue, chiseled and defined like a sculpture carved from stone. His heavily tattooed chest and arms bulge with muscles that speak of strength and power. It’s clear that this body is not just for show—it is a weapon, honed and perfected through years of training. Scattered across his skin are scars, each one telling a story of battles fought and survived. They serve as a reminder of the violence and danger that lurks in his world.
One piece of clothing after another hits the floor until he’s left in nothing but his boxers. My heart quickens in my chest, lungs burning for air as I stare into his eyes and nowhere else. I never gave much thought to my father’s rule on staying chaste. Hell, I’ve never even kissed a boy, and I am nearly twenty-five. I often thought it was because he wanted me to wait until I found love.
The truth of why he wanted me pure churns my stomach, causing dread to sink in my gut.
Something tells me that losing my virginity to this man will leave a mark that stays with me for eternity. It wouldn’t be anything like my governess described. Quick and forgettable. No, this man would take his time and devour every inch of me.
Why does the sound of that make the spot between my legs ache? It shouldn’t. If anything, I should be screaming the apartment down. Clawing his eyes out. Pitch some kind of fit. He kidnapped me. Stole me. Whipped me. That alone should send me running.
But it doesn’t and I’m not sure I want to delve into why.
“Why do you look away, piccola cerva ?”
Little deer. It’s obvious from the way his lips tip into a smirk that he is aware of my disdain for the condescending nickname he’s bestowed on me. When I don’t respond, he chucks me under the chin, forcing my eyes to his.
“You’re naked,” I mutter, embarrassment at my naivety seeping through me.
“There is nothing to be ashamed of, Gia,” he tells me. “I am not much different from any other man.”
If only I had other men to compare him to. The thought alone sends heat rushing to my face which I attempt to hide, but his hand grabs my chin, preventing my eyes from focusing anywhere but on him.
“Unless—” he pauses for a moment, his eyes widening before something dark glitters within his brown depths. “You’ve never been with a man.”
I’m not responding to that, and he doesn’t press me, but I can tell her already knows the answer to his question. Mio Dio , is he going to try to sell me? Will he bestow the same fate my father had planned? I may be na?ve in matters of sex but not in what Italian men like my father deal in.
Flesh.
Human trafficking is one of the largest ways my father makes his money. Money that goes to the Don, Salvator De Luca, the man he sought to sell me for more prestige and power. Is Vitali like his uncle? Does he deal in humans the same way?
“Where did your mind go, Gia?” he murmurs, stealing me away from my darkening thoughts. His eyes soften as he stares down at me, one of his large, calloused hands coming to rest on my waist.
“Nowhere.”
Vitali studies me for a moment longer before he gives me a brief nod and moves past me to step into the shower. The steaming hot water cascades down the rigid planes of his body, the sight causing a stir lower in my abdomen.
The shower is enormous and lined with shower heads and spigots. It’s more like a luxury spa than a guest bathroom.
He reaches out his hand and I take it, letting him draw me under the spray without protest. “You are still weak from hypothermia and starvation. Keep hold of me.”
I stand frozen, watching as he picks up a blue bath sponge, its texture rough and familiar. He uncaps a bottle of body wash, the scent of fresh citrus filling the air, and squeezes a generous amount onto the sponge. Without a word, he closes the gap between us, his movements deliberate and confident. I feel the firm pressure of his body against my abdomen, the warmth radiating from him unmistakable and intimate. Is he going to make me have sex with him now? In the shower?
Slowly, he turns me around until my ass is pressed against his erection. One arm snakes around my body, holding me flat against him while the other runs the sudsy sponge against my skin. He starts at my neck, slowly working his way down. The softness of the sponge and the slickness of the body wash feels like heaven against my skin. It’s been a while since I’ve been able to bathe in anything close to warm water.
He runs the sponge over my breasts, circling my sensitive nipples, slowly leaving a sudsy path lower and lower. I’m not sure what this feeling is. I’m dizzy, and I ache. I can feel his erection between us. Pleasure coils inside of me, and I’m torn between feeling ashamed and wanting more.
“Listen to me well, Gia,” he whispers in my ear. “You belong to me now. Your brother signed you over to me the moment he tried to take my life.” I cry out when the hand he is using to hold me moves to pinch my right nipple. It hurts, but the pain eases when he releases it, the burn fading to a dirty pleasure that travels right to my clit. “I will take what I want from you when I want it. You will answer all my questions. Heed my commands. If you are a good girl, you will be rewarded, but if you are naughty—” he pauses. For dramatic affect no doubt. “you will be punished. Is that clear?”
So he’s not going to sell me? He is keeping me for himself?
Not knowing what to say and still trying to process everything, I give him a small nod.
“You need to understand something, piccola ceria ,” he continues, turning me so that I am facing him. “If I want you to ride my cock in the middle of a meeting, you will do it. When I tell you to sit on my face, I don’t care where we are or what we are doing, you sit on my fucking face. When you wake up with my mouth eating your cunt for breakfast, you will thank me for it. Do you understand?”
Santa merda. I manage to swallow down the lump that has lodged itself in my throat. I’m not sure how I am supposed to feel about his sudden declaration, but I doubt my vagina is supposed to be pulsing. There is nothing left for me to do but nod because my mouth is dryer than a cotton mill, I doubt I’ll be able to answer anyway.
What would I say?
Vitali gazes down at me for a few more seconds, one beat, and then another passes, before he pulls me tighter against him. “Consent doesn’t matter here, Gia. You are mine to do with as I please until I get what I want. Obey me and I will bring you the greatest pleasure you will ever know.” His voice darkens. “Cross me and I will tie you to my bed, whip your pussy until you beg me to come and then I will leave you there, dripping in your own release so that you realize the mistake you made.”
He doesn’t require me to answer him, which I’m thankful for, because the vision he’s planted in my mind has my heart galloping and my body shaking. Vitali abandons the suds-filled sponge and tips my head back under the hot spray, letting the water soak my hair. He pours shampoo in his hand. Despite his threatening words, his touch is gentle as he massages it into my scalp.
This is a trap, I know it. He’s lulling me into a false sense of security, and it is working. I am putty in his hands, soft and malleable.
Vitali tips my head back to rinse the shampoo, running his fingers through the soft tresses. He leans toward me, his lips dropping to the column of my neck. I tremble at the feel of his tongue licking a path up my neck until it lands just below my ear. He takes my earlobe between his teeth and bites down.
Arousal sweeps through me, and I can’t help the desperate moan that flies past my lips.
“ Bellisima ,” he growls against my ear. He runs his fingers through my hair one last time before straightening me.
“I’ve got things to do, Gia,” he tells me. “Everything you need is on the counter. When you are done, there is food waiting for you in the other room. Eat as much as you can and then go to bed.”
Easy enough. Maybe while he is gone, I can find a way to escape.
As if he is reading my thoughts Vitali adds, “There is no escape for you, little deer. I’ll be watching you, even when I’m not with you. Remember what I said about being naughty.”
A chill sweeps up my spine at his reminder. I watch silently as he steps out of the shower and dries himself off. Vitali obviously has no idea that he oozes sex appeals. A true Adonis if ever there was one. He wraps a towel around his waist, shoots me a warning glare, and steps out of the bathroom.
For the first time since he took me, I can breathe.
Slouching against the tiled wall, I let out a long breath of relief. Closing my eyes, I let the warm water ripple over me and wash away the feeling of arousal and shame Vitali managed to draw out of me. When I finally start to feel normal, a sense of calm washing over me, I open my eyes and break away from the wall.
My eyes scan the shower, landing on a pretty pink razor. Greedily, I pick it up, lathering some of the shaving cream I find next to it, and proceed to shave every inch of me I can reach. It’s been nearly a month since I’ve been able to do this, and the simple act of normalcy nearly has me in tears.
When I’m done, I quickly rinse off, shutting down the shower with the fancy control switch. There is a towel waiting for me on the counter. I use it to dry my hair and body before slipping on the white robe that hangs on a hook. It’s been too long since I’ve had such luxuries.
Stepping out of the bathroom, I spot the tray of food that is left for me. Picking it up, I sit cross-legged in the middle of my bed and do the only thing I can.
I plot my escape.
Vitali De Luca has no idea who he is dealing with.