Chapter 17 #2
Rafael seems to understand and doesn’t press the issue. After a brief pause, his voice returns. “Lucia’s asked for curtains for the windows. She doesn’t like the city view.”
I tense up at the mention of her name. “Get her whatever she wants. Immediately.”
He gives me a deep, meaningful look.
“What?” I ask.
“Did you know there was a pool below?”
The memory of that night makes my heart race. I shake my head. “Even if I’d known I’d be jumping into the fires of hell, I still wouldn’t have hesitated to follow Lucia down.”
***
Lucia is curled up on the couch, a coffee mug in her hands, staring at the TV.
She’s wearing a soft white dress that gently hugs the curve of her growing belly.
It’s strange. Ten days ago you could barely see it.
Now there’s a clear bump under her dress.
That’s my baby, growing and gaining life day by day.
The thought fills me with a pride and excitement I’ve never felt before.
When I first got Lucia pregnant, revenge against Carlo was my only motive. I knew the news of her pregnancy would drive him insane. But now, this tiny being who hasn’t even entered the world yet has awakened a fierce protectiveness in me. I’d burn the world down to keep it safe, both of them.
Even with her swollen belly, she’s still the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I can’t stop thinking about the last time I was inside her, the last time I emptied myself into her pussy. Months ago. Since the first time I had sex at fourteen, I’ve never gone this long without it. It’s unbearable.
While I was planning to take her, I tried fucking a few whores to take the edge off.
But as soon as they crossed into my space, all my desire vanished.
Because they weren’t her. As for Emily? Not once was I tempted.
Sure, all it would’ve taken was a snap of my fingers, and she would’ve had her panties off in seconds.
But she wasn’t my type—not her face, not her demeanor.
Compared to Lucia’s regal presence, Emily felt like a backwoods girl pretending to belong.
Out of all the afflictions this world offers, I never thought I’d catch the cancer of monogamy.
Lucia hasn’t noticed me yet, but I’ve been watching her for a few minutes now, the woman I’ve only recently realized is more valuable to me than anything.
I’m still furious. Furious at myself for not being able to let go of the idea that she might have feelings for Carlo. Whatever those feelings may be.
I want her to look me in the eye and tell me she wishes Carlo dead. But every time, instead of giving me that satisfaction, she throws that gratitude bullshit in my face and drives me mad like a rabid dog.
Finally, I step out of my corner, drawn toward her like metal to a magnet.
The moment she sees me, her expression turns stormy.
I glance at the TV screen. She’s been quietly watching a documentary about Italy.
Those sly thoughts of mine rear their ugly heads again.
Could she be missing Carlo? Jealousy is such a pathetic feeling, and I hadn’t realized how much it could eat at me.
I drag my eyes
away from the TV and meet her tempestuous face. I don’t know if it’s her beauty that’s intensified tenfold, or if I’m just seeing her more clearly than ever. I move closer and sit beside her, my arousal swelling with every passing second, defiant, uncontrollable.
She sets her coffee mug on the table and shifts back a little.
I soften my voice, trying to keep the tension at bay. “You don’t need to be afraid. I’m not here to hurt you.”
She lets out a bitter scoff. “The brief, unfortunate history we’ve had together suggests otherwise. I should be afraid of you, Tony. Because every time you show up, something terrible happens to me.”
Leaning back, I rest my arm along the couch, feeling the strain of my growing hardness.
“Doesn’t your experience also suggest you should be more careful about how you speak to me?”
Her eyes dart nervously, my words clearly sinking in. She places a protective hand over her rounded belly, shifting uncomfortably on the couch as she exhales shakily.
“How dare you threaten me after everything you’ve done? What more do you want from me, huh? I’ve done everything you asked. I left my whole life behind. Why is nothing ever enough for you?”
“You haven’t done anything for me. You kept your mouth shut because you were scared of Carlo and spread your legs for me because of your lust. Isn’t that the truth?”
I want to punch myself in the face for even hoping she’ll deny it, for wanting her to say that everything she did was because she cared for me. The fact that this woman’s feelings matter so much to me makes me want to set myself on fire.
She lets out a heavy sigh, her frustration palpable, and looks away from me. I watch her in silence for a moment before forcing the words out of my mouth.
“About the other night…it wasn’t what you think.”
She spins to face me, her voice full of mockery. “Oh really? So I hallucinated twenty-six men standing there in their underwear, ready to—”
I don’t let her finish that sentence. “I already told you, no one was allowed to even look at you. I didn’t think you’d react the way you did.”
Her choked laugh is bitter. “Really? You thought I’d just strip off my clothes without a fuss and throw myself at them out of lust? Sorry to disappoint you by reacting differently and ruining your expensive suit in the process.”
The veins in my temples throb. I swallow my pride and say the words I know will shock her.
“I’m sorry. I went too far.”
Disbelief is written on her face, as if she’s witnessing a miracle. I press on before she can recover.
“We didn’t start under the best circumstances. We don’t understand each other, and we both have bad tempers. Let’s start over. Clean slate.”
She swallows hard and averts her eyes, breaking the tension for a moment.
My gaze drops to her tits through the dress, like it’s got a will of its own, lingering on the perfect curves that I want to pull into my mouth and savor.
My hand drifts down, brushing over the tightness in my pants.
I try to shake the thoughts. I could have her now, bury myself to the hilt in that sweet, pink heaven, but I won’t. Not like this.
I push forward a bit. “I admit I went too far, Lucia. But don’t ever forget, I’m not a forgiving man. Every mistake has its price. I want you to always remember that no one crosses me and gets away without paying for it.”
She brushes a lock of golden hair behind her ear. The sight of her delicate, soft earlobe sends a jolt through me. God, how I’d love to taste it right now.
“Then don’t expect forgiveness from me either.”
Her words barely register, my mind still caught in the storm of her presence.
“What?”
“If I get punished for my mistakes, you should be punished for yours too. I have just as much right to discipline you as you do me.”
A slow, crooked grin spreads across my face, but inside, chaos reigns. This sharp-tongued woman just backed me into a corner, and I can’t argue without contradicting myself.
“Looks like you didn’t escape Pietro DeLucci’s genes after all. Smart and shrewd, just like him.”
She ignores my remark, her focus unwavering. “So…do we have a deal?”
That’s it. In a flash, I lunge forward and pin her to the couch. My face buries itself in the curve of her neck as I inhale deeply, intoxicated by her scent. Her hand presses against my chest, attempting to push me away, but I don’t budge.
I press a wet kiss onto her soft skin, grabbing her hand and guiding it to the bulge straining against my pants. My voice dips low as I whisper in her ear, “I can make it up to you in another way.”
“By pleasuring yourself? You really did inherit the Bruni brains.”
I lift my head, one eyebrow arched as I meet her gaze. “Still want to claim you don’t enjoy me? That I owe you twenty-six orgasms?”
My teasing tone does nothing to dissolve the fear pooling in her eyes. Her response is cautious but resolute. “No. But I can’t be with you right now.”
My brow furrows as I press her hand firmly against my arousal. “Why not?”
She hesitates, choosing her words carefully before saying, “I need more time to forget what happened that night.”
“So, you want to punish me by withholding sex?”
She pulls her hand back, and this time, I let her. Frustration flares hotly in my chest as I pull away, trying to smother the fire raging within me.
Using her arm as support, she sits up, her voice steady yet weighted.
“No, Tony. I’m not trying to punish you with sex.
I’m just angry. Angry because you endangered our baby, humiliated me, and scared me half to death.
I accept your apology. I’m not stupid, I know I’ll be tied to you for the rest of my life.
I even appreciate your offer to start over, and I’m open to it.
But for me to let you touch me again, for me to want your touch, I need some time. That’s all.”
Her tone is warm, and her words deliberate. She’s right, and I know it. I can’t push her right now, even if walking away feels like ripping my own heart out.
Forcing myself up from the couch, I leave the house without another word.