17. Luca
17
LUCA
A s I burst into the library, my anger still simmering from the visit to my mother, I’m brought up short by the sight of Mia. She’s standing among the bookshelves, her fingers tracing the spines of the volumes my father and I have collected over the years.
For a moment, just a moment, I forget my rage as I watch her.
She turns at my entrance, and the look of anxiety on her face brings me crashing back to reality. This isn’t Dom or Sofia standing before me. It’s Mia—innocent, wide-eyed Mia who’s become collateral damage in my quest for vengeance.
“Come with me,” I command, my voice harsher than I intend. “ Now .”
I see her flinch, and a pang of… something… twists in my gut. I push the feeling aside. I can’t afford such weakness, not now.
As we climb the stairs to our bedroom, I steal glances at Mia’s profile. She looks terrified, and I realize she probably thinks I’m about to do something horrible to her. The thought sobers me somewhat, cooling the white-hot rage that’s been driving me since I left the hospital.
I took Mia as my wife to punish Dom, yes. But she’s not the one I want to hurt. She’s… a complication, an unexpected variable in an equation I thought I had perfectly balanced.
We reach the bedroom, and I throw the door open with more force than necessary. Mia follows me in, her steps hesitant. I can practically feel the fear radiating off her in waves.
“Luca,” she begins, her voice trembling slightly. “What’s wrong? Have I done something to upset you?”
I turn to face her, and the look in her eyes nearly undoes me. There’s fear there, yes, but also a determination that takes me by surprise. It reminds me of our conversation on the terrace, when she spoke so passionately about her love for books and her dreams of travel.
The memory helps to further calm the storm of my emotions. I run a hand through my hair, frustrated with myself for letting my control slip so badly.
“This isn’t about you,” I say, trying to soften my tone but failing. “This is about the Sicuras. About what they’ve taken from me.”
Mia takes a tentative step toward me, and I’m struck by her bravery. Most people would be cowering in the face of my anger, but not her. “What did they take, Luca?” she asks softly. “Please, help me understand.”
For a moment, I’m tempted. The urge to unburden myself, to share the weight of my pain and rage, is almost overwhelming.
But I can’t. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
Instead, I make a decision. “We’re going out,” I announce. “To dinner.”
Mia blinks, clearly thrown by this sudden change of plans. “Out? To dinner?”
I nod, already moving to the closet. I pull out a dress I had chosen for her earlier—a deep blue number that I know will bring out the richness of her eyes. “Here,” I say, holding it out to her. “Wear this.”
Mia takes the dress, her fingers brushing against mine. Even that slight contact sends a jolt through me, and I have to force myself not to react. “It’s beautiful,” she murmurs, running her hand over the fabric.
“Get dressed,” I instruct, turning away to give her some privacy. “We leave in twenty minutes.”
I hear the soft rustle of fabric behind me, and despite my best intentions, I find myself turning slightly, catching Mia’s reflection in the large mirror on the far wall. My breath catches in my throat as I watch her.
She moves slowly, hesitantly, as if she’s unsure of herself, but it’s that very uncertainty that draws me in, heightening my desire. Her fingers tremble slightly as they work their way down the buttons of her blouse, one by one, revealing smooth, unblemished skin beneath.
Pale, soft, like cream under the soft glow of the setting sun filtering through the window. She’s nervous—I can see it in the way her hands hesitate over the last button, as if she’s debating whether or not to go through with this.
But she does.
The blouse slips from her shoulders, gliding over her arms and falling to the floor in a whisper of fabric. My gaze locks onto her bare skin, the way her collarbone catches the light, sharp and delicate all at once. Her neck curves gently, her chest rising and falling with every shallow breath.
She doesn’t know I’m watching her, that her every move is fueling the fire inside me.
My cock hardens immediately, straining against the fabric of my pants as the heat builds. I palm myself through the fabric, gripping the hard length, barely suppressing a groan. I want her—God, do I want her.
Right here, right now.
She unzips her pants, and the soft sound of the zipper cuts through the air like a trigger, sending a jolt of anticipation down my spine. I watch, mesmerized, as she eases the pants down her hips, her movements slow and deliberate. The fabric pools at her feet, and she stands there in nothing but her bra and panties, her body bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.
Her curves are subtle but unmistakable, the dip of her waist, the gentle flare of her hips. The soft light highlights every contour, every dip and valley, casting her in a halo of warmth. She’s a vision. More than that. She’s everything.
I tighten my grip on myself, my hand moving instinctively, needing some form of release, even though it’s nowhere near enough. I need to feel her, taste her, lose myself in her. The way she stands there, so innocent yet so damn tempting, it drives me insane.
My gaze drops lower, taking in the way her panties cling to her hips, delicate lace stretched across her skin. Her thighs press together as though she’s aware of her own vulnerability, and it only makes me harder, makes my desire more unbearable.
I imagine what it would feel like to strip that last bit of fabric away, to have her bare before me, to watch her blush deepen as she realizes the power she holds over me.
The idea of it—of her giving herself to me so completely—makes my pulse race.
I shift slightly, adjusting myself as I bite back the urge to cross the room and take her. My self-control is hanging by a thread, stretched thin by the sight of her. I should wait. I should savor this moment, but the way she looks, standing there in the fading sunlight, makes me want to abandon any restraint I have left.
Her hands hover near the clasp of her bra, and I know she’s debating whether to take it off. Her hesitation only fuels my need. I want to tell her how beautiful she looks, how much I want her, but I don’t. I can’t. Not yet.
I want to see her do this for herself, to watch as she undresses for me, maybe not even realizing how much she’s affecting me.
Finally, she reaches behind her, her fingers fumbling slightly as she undoes the clasp. The bra loosens, sliding down her arms, revealing her breasts to me. My throat tightens at the sight of her bare skin, the swell of her breasts, the way her nipples harden in the cool air.
I’m so damn close to losing it.
I grip myself harder, the friction through my pants doing nothing to ease the ache. I want to rip off my clothes, to be skin to skin with her, to feel the heat of her body pressed against mine.
But I hold back, for now, because watching her like this, watching her undress with such a mix of shyness and vulnerability, is its own kind of pleasure.
She stands there for a moment, her arms crossing over her chest as though she’s suddenly aware of just how exposed she is. Her cheeks flush a deep pink, and the sight of it sends a wave of satisfaction through me. She’s bashful, unsure, but she’s doing this for me.
She’s giving herself to me, piece by piece, and the knowledge of that is almost too much to handle.
Slowly, she hooks her fingers into the waistband of her panties, sliding them down her hips. My breath catches in my throat as the last bit of fabric falls away, leaving her completely bare before me. Her skin glows in the golden light, her body soft and delicate, yet strong in a way I can’t quite put into words.
She stands there, naked, her hands hovering awkwardly by her sides, unsure of what to do next. Her blush deepens when she catches her own reflection in the mirror, and I can see the flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.
That’s when I move.
I can’t wait any longer. I stand, crossing the room in a few quick strides, my hands already moving to unbutton my pants. Her eyes widen as I step in front of her, pulling my shirt off in one swift motion. The need to be skin to skin with her, to feel her warmth against me, is overwhelming.
My pants drop to the floor, and I watch as her gaze drops to my cock, standing hard and ready. Her blush deepens, spreading down her neck, across her chest, and I feel a surge of satisfaction at the sight. She’s bashful, but she’s looking. She’s curious, and that turns me on even more.
“See what you do to me?” I murmur, my voice low and rough as I step closer, towering over her. Her breath hitches, and her eyes flick up to meet mine, wide and filled with something I can’t quite name—but it’s not fear. It’s desire.
I reach out, my hand cupping her cheek, my thumb brushing across her soft skin. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Mia.” My voice is thick with need, with the weight of the moment. I want her to know how much she affects me, how much I want her, and how much she’s about to change everything.
Her lips part slightly, but no words come out. She just stares at me, her chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, her body trembling with anticipation.
I can’t hold back any longer. I lean in, my mouth capturing hers in a deep, hungry kiss, my hands sliding down her body, pulling her flush against me. The feel of her bare skin against mine is electric, every inch of her soft and warm, fitting perfectly against me.
My hands roam over her, desperate to touch every part of her, to memorize the way she feels. She gasps into my mouth as I cup her breast, my thumb brushing over her nipple, hard and sensitive beneath my touch.
I guide her backward toward the bed, never breaking the kiss. My cock presses against her stomach, and I feel her shudder beneath me. I can tell she’s nervous, but there’s no hesitation in the way she responds, her hands tangling in my hair, pulling me closer, deeper.
When we reach the bed, I lower Mia onto it, her body soft and pliant beneath mine, her skin flushed with anticipation. The way she looks at me, wide-eyed and eager, sends a fresh wave of lust coursing through me. My cock is already painfully hard, pressing against her thigh as I position myself between her legs.
I pull back slightly, just enough to take in the sight of her laid out beneath me, her legs parted, her chest rising and falling with each shallow breath. Her nipples are tight, her skin warm and flushed, and her eyes…
God, those eyes .
They’re full of heat and something darker, something I’m pulling out of her with every touch.
“Mia,” I murmur, my voice rough as I run my hand down her thigh, gripping her knee and pulling her leg higher around my waist. “I want to hear you. I want to hear what this is doing to you.”
Her breath hitches, and I can see the hesitation in her expression. But there’s also a flicker of something else—curiosity. Desire. She’s still shy, still unsure, but I can tell she’s close, teetering on the edge of letting go.
I lean down, brushing my lips against the shell of her ear, my hand sliding up her thigh, inching closer to where she’s hot and wet for me. “Tell me what you want, Mia,” I whisper, my breath hot against her skin. “Tell me how it feels.”
She gasps as my fingers slip between her folds, finding her already slick and ready. Her hips buck instinctively, pressing herself against my hand, and a soft moan escapes her lips.
I smirk, coaxing her with gentle, teasing strokes. “Come on, baby. Don’t hold back. I want to hear you.” My voice drops lower, darker. “I want to hear how much you want me.”
Her breath comes in short gasps, and I can feel her trembling beneath me. Her eyes flutter closed, and for a moment, I think she’s going to stay silent, too embarrassed to give me what I want. But then, her lips part, and in a voice barely above a whisper, she says, “I… I want you, Luca.”
A surge of heat rushes through me at the sound of her voice, soft and hesitant but so fucking sexy. I press my fingers deeper, finding her clit, circling it slowly, watching as her body arches into my touch.
“Good girl,” I murmur, my lips brushing against her neck. “That’s it. Now tell me how it feels. Tell me how much you love this.”
Her head falls back against the pillow, and she bites her lip, a flush spreading across her cheeks. I can tell she’s still holding back, but I’m not going to let her. Not tonight. I want all of her, every sound, every gasp, every filthy word she’s too afraid to say.
I press my thumb harder against her clit, my fingers slipping inside her, and she lets out a soft, breathy moan. “Fuck, Luca… It feels so good.”
Her words send a bolt of lust straight to my cock, and I groan, my hand moving faster, my fingers curling inside her. “Yeah? You like that, baby? You like when I touch you like this?”
She nods frantically, her hips moving in time with my hand, her breath coming in short, desperate gasps. “Yes… Oh, God, yes… Don’t stop.”
I smirk against her skin, pressing a kiss to her collarbone. “I’m not going to stop, Mia. Not until you’re screaming my name.”
Her moans grow louder, more desperate, as I increase the pressure, working her closer and closer to the edge. And then, in a voice barely above a whisper, she says, “I want you inside me… Please, Luca.”
The way she says it, breathless and needy, sends me over the edge. I pull my hand away, positioning myself between her legs, the tip of my dick brushing against her entrance. I meet her gaze, my eyes dark with lust.
“Tell me again,” I growl, my voice low and rough. “Tell me how much you want me.”
Her hands grip the sheets, her chest heaving as she looks up at me with wide, pleading eyes. “I want you, Luca. I need you… Please.”
I push inside her slowly, savoring the feel of her tight, wet heat enveloping me. We both moan at the same time, and I have to grit my teeth to stop myself from losing it right then and there. She feels so fucking good—better than I could have ever imagined.
I still for a moment, letting her adjust to the feel of me inside her, but the way she’s looking at me, the way her body is trembling beneath mine, it’s driving me insane. I need more.
I pull back slightly, then thrust into her again, harder this time, and the sound she makes—half gasp, half moan—goes straight to my cock. I grip her hips, driving into her with slow, deliberate thrusts, watching as her head falls back against the pillow, her lips parted, her breath coming in soft, desperate pants.
“God, you feel so fucking good, Mia,” I groan, my hands gripping her waist, pulling her closer with each thrust. “You’re so tight… so wet for me.”
She moans in response, her hands reaching up to grip my shoulders, her nails digging into my skin. “Luca… I… Oh, God…”
I lean down, capturing her lips in a hard, hungry kiss, swallowing her moans as I thrust into her again and again, my cock buried deep inside her. She’s so warm, so fucking perfect, and I can feel her tightening around me, her body trembling as she gets closer to the edge.
“Talk to me, baby,” I murmur against her lips, my voice rough with need. “I want to hear you. I want you to tell me how much you love this.”
She gasps, her head falling back against the pillow, her hands gripping my shoulders tighter. “I love it, Luca… I love how you fuck me.”
Her words send a surge of heat through me, and I thrust into her harder, faster, watching as her back arches off the bed, her mouth falling open in a silent scream.
“That’s it,” I growl, my voice thick with lust. “You’re gonna come for me, aren’t you? You’re gonna come all over my cock.”
She nods frantically, her body trembling beneath me, and I can feel her getting closer, her muscles tightening around me. I grip her hips, driving into her with long, hard strokes, my cock hitting deep inside her.
“Come for me, Mia,” I whisper, my mouth brushing against her ear. “Come for me, baby.”
And with that, she falls apart beneath me, her body shaking as she comes hard, her muscles clenching around me, her nails digging into my back. The sight of her, the feel of her coming around my cock, sends me over the edge, and with one final, deep thrust, I follow her, spilling inside her with a guttural groan.
She’s quiet for a moment, her body still trembling slightly, and I press a kiss to her forehead, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.
“You did so good, Mia,” I murmur, my voice soft and full of satisfaction. “So fucking good.”
As the haze of our release starts to settle, the weight of reality slips back in, pushing against the edge of my satisfaction. My body hums with pleasure, but my mind… well, it’s already drifting to what’s next.
I can’t stay here, no matter how tempting it is to keep Mia wrapped up in my arms, warm and soft against me.
I glance at the clock on the nightstand. Shit. Dinner plans. I almost forgot.
I brush my hand over Mia’s bare back, savoring the last moment before I have to speak. Her skin is flushed and warm from the intensity of what we just did, her breath still coming in soft pants as she lays sprawled beside me, content. My cock stirs again at the sight of her—so goddamn gorgeous, thoroughly fucked, and mine.
But there’s no time for round two. Not right now.
I lean over. “Mia…” My voice is low, still thick with the remnants of lust, but I need to pull us back to reality. “We’ve got dinner plans. You need to get dressed.”
Her eyes flutter open, and she looks at me, a mixture of confusion and satisfaction painting her expression. She blinks a few times as if it takes a moment for my words to sink in, then her cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink. She bites her lower lip, trying to stifle a shy smile, still basking in the afterglow.
“Dinner plans?” she asks softly, her voice laced with a hint of surprise.
I nod, sliding out of bed, my body reluctant to part from hers. The cool air hits my skin, but I ignore it as I stretch, standing tall by the edge of the bed. I’m still feeling that smug satisfaction in my chest, knowing what I just did to her—how I made her fall apart again and again, and how she wanted more. I’m not gonna lie—it’s a fucking ego boost, seeing her lying there, still recovering.
My cock twitches slightly at the memory of how perfectly she took me, but I shove the thought aside for now. Dinner. I’ve got responsibilities, and so does she.
I glance back at Mia. “Get dressed. We’ve got to go soon.”
She pulls the sheet up over her chest, the modesty making me smirk a little. I just had her beneath me, screaming my name, but now she’s bashful again. It’s cute, really.
As I move to the dresser, I can’t help but watch her out of the corner of my eye. Slowly, she sits up, the sheet still clutched against her skin. I know she’s still feeling shy, still adjusting to everything between us. I can see it in the way she moves, her gaze dipping down, her lip caught between her teeth.
I pull my pants on, the fabric feeling stiff after the intensity of what we just shared. But I’m still riding the high. As I zip up, I glance at her again, unable to resist one last dig into that heat simmering between us.
“You’ve got about fifteen minutes to look as innocent as you did before I wrecked you.” My smirk is wicked, filled with satisfaction as I catch the slight widening of her eyes.
Mia flushes deeper, grabbing her clothes from the floor and moving to get dressed without a word. The sight of her naked again, bent over to pick up her dress, nearly makes me want to forget all about dinner. But we’ve got things to do. Dinner first.
Then maybe round two.