Chapter Forty-Five
Chiara
Lucas’ fingers tangle into my hair, and the French twist that has been holding it up comes undone. He fists the strands in a death grip, yanking my head back as his mouth ruthlessly plunders mine. When he trails hungry, wet kisses along my jaw, I gasp from the savagery of his onslaught.
“You’re mine,” he growls in a low voice between sucking and nipping the soft skin of my throat as his fingers painfully tug at my hair. “No one touches what’s mine, not even for a fucking waltz.”
There are faint voices as someone passes on the other side of the door and I stiffen. “Lucas, someone might see us…”
“Good.” His mouth crashes back against mine, punishing, devouring, while he grabs my hip hard enough to bruise. “Let them see,” he grits out hotly against my lips. “Let every bastard in that room know who you belong to.”
My heart starts to hammer in my chest, and my body responds to his assertiveness almost instantly.
Heat pools low in my belly and threatens to drag me under.
I shove at his chest in a desperate attempt to smother my surrender, but he only presses closer, wedging a thigh between mine.
The friction steals my last shred of sanity, and I moan shamelessly as I feel the wetness seep through my panties onto his pants.
He slides his hand down to the slit of my dress, trailing fire over my bare thigh. I shudder when he brushes his fingers over the edge of my lingerie, circling his thumb closer and closer to the very spot I dread and need him to touch.
“Lucas,” I hear myself beg, I am not even sure myself what I am begging for. I grip his shirt harder, not knowing anymore if I want to shove him away or pull him closer.
“Yes, love,” he murmurs roughly against my ear as he starts to bunch my dress up. “Say it. Say who you belong to.”
Before I can reply, voices can be heard again and my breathing stutters, my body is tingling, and my heart is leaping in my throat from the recklessness of being discovered.
I can’t seem to think straight. All I can feel is Lucas and his hard body pressing me against the wall, the smell of his cologne enveloping me while his hands and mouth drive me wild with lust. He unzips his pants and shoves the strip of lace covering my pussy aside.
Then he grabs my ass to hoist me up against the wall.
I instinctively wrap my legs around him to steady myself and clutch his shoulders with shaking hands.
He stills and leans his forehead against mine, breathing hard, eyes blazing with madness.
“Say it, goddammit,” he snarls, pushing the head of his cock inside me. “Who do you belong to? Who owns you? Say it!”
I am lost in a sea of warring emotions, and the moment feels so real, so raw I can’t lie anymore. “You,” I whimper.
“That’s right,” he growls, “you’re mine!” He drives inside me in one hard thrust. “Never forget it.”
I throw my head back, arching against him with a loud moan. “Oh god, Lucas.”
He buries his face into the crook of my neck and starts to pound into me, hands cupping my ass. He claims me with a rough, furious urgency that leaves no doubt that this is not only my punishment, but him asserting his possession.
I believe I hear him snarl mine with each hard thrust, but I can’t be sure, my hoarse moans resound in the darkness, and the loud hammering of my heart makes my blood pound in my ears, drowning out every other sound.
The angle leaves me completely at his mercy, opened for his cock to push so deep into me I can’t catch my breath.
I am drowning in a maelstrom of intense ecstasy, pleasure coiling and building inside me like a fire annihilating everything in its wake, leaving only scorching heat and the awareness of him claiming me, owning me. And I surrender.
When the first quivers of my climax start to wrack my body, Lucas must feel it, too.
“That’s it, love, be my good girl, come for me.
” He takes up his pace and teases my lower lip with his teeth, nipping and sucking until I shatter.
His mouth crashes over mine to cover my cries as I come apart, shuddering against him.
His cock twitches as he slams one last time into me before he comes too, groaning into my mouth, body convulsing.
My breath heaves for several erratic heartbeats, as I try to regain some control.
When I open my eyes, I find Lucas’ face just an inch from mine, watching me with an intensity that traps me and threatens to undo me.
We are both breathing hard, bodies and eyes locked in a silent conversation that makes my heart thump against my chest. The moment feels endless and raw as I lose myself in the azure of his gaze.
Then someone passes by the door and the spell is broken. I avert my gaze, feeling heat creep up my face.
“Anyone could have seen us,” I mutter.
He chuckles softly as he carefully sets me back on my feet, steadying me with his hands on my hips. “Then I would’ve had to shoot them. No one sees you undressed except me.”
I look up sharply, trying to gauge if he is serious or teasing.
But his face is unreadable as he bends down to brush my lips in a tender kiss.
He rights himself in his pants. I fix my panties and look around for something to clean myself up.
But before I can move, his hand darts out to catch my wrist.
“Don’t,” comes his low command, voice still rough and breath ragged.
“Lucas,” I begin, but he cuts me off, stepping closer with a dark look.
“Leave it.”
A shiver runs through me, and I know from the look in his eyes that he means it. He wants me to walk back inside, carrying the reminder of what has just happened. That maybe he even wants people to notice. My heart slams desperately against my ribcage like a caged bird.
“Lucas,” I whisper in a trembling voice. “Please, don’t make me. It’s wrong. People will notice.”
His hand lifts to cup my face, his thumb brushing over my lower lip.
“Consider it your punishment. Let them look at you and wonder.” He grazes my temple with his lips and leans back to look into my eyes. “But”—his voice lowers to a rough whisper—“you and I, we’ll both know.”
He steps back and straightens his jacket, looking controlled and collected, as if we just had a chat outside. Meanwhile, I am shaken to the core, my limbs are trembling and my mind is in a riot. Shame is making my heart hammer in my chest as a bead of his cum starts to trail down my leg.
When we step back into the ballroom, the noise crashes over me in a blinding wave.
I feel exposed, and every word, every look in our direction burns like a spotlight aimed at me.
It’s all too loud, too bright, too close.
I am stripped defenseless, my skin feels wrong, hypersensitive, closing in on me, choking me.
My breath stutters. I straighten my spine by instinct, forcing my face into something that might pass for composure, but I teeter like I’m walking a tightrope over the abyss.
Breathe. Just breathe.
“Look at you,” Mother’s voice sneers in my head, making my spine snap straight. “This is not a way to present yourself. Have you no pride? What were you thinking? You are bringing shame to this family.”
My clammy hands begin to shake.
“I’ve not raised you to behave like a common whore. What will the people think? What will your father think? The same father you abandoned like the ungrateful daughter you are.”
It’s not real, it’s in my head. But to no avail. Shame, guilt and grief over Father’s death slam into me, unbidden and so sudden I stagger.
Father. I never said goodbye. I never got the chance to tell him I loved him.
I draw in a breath, but it stops halfway down my chest. People are looking at me, their gazes dissecting, judging me. Their faces begin to blur.
Something’s wrong.
In the middle of the crowded room, my mind dissociates and my soul fractures. My vision narrows.
Don’t fall apart. Not here. Not where everyone can see me.
Lucas walks beside me with his hand on the small of my back, looking almost bored.
“Drink?” he asks softly, his voice smooth and back to normal.
“I—” My voice falters and I shake my head, trying to clear it, but it only makes the room spin. “I can’t—Lucas, I can’t—”
My chest is heaving, but no air comes in or out.
I can’t breathe. Panic claws at my throat, slowly, painfully constricting it, and tears sting my eyes. My heart is flailing helplessly in my chest.
Lucas’ hands dart up to grab my arms and he spins me to face him.
His eyes scan my face and his jaw clenches.
“Easy,” he says, and the concern in that single word makes my knees give way.
“Breathe with me.” His voice orders from far away.
I try to cling to it, but my gasps for breath become erratic as a band closes around my chest and my mind is shutting down.
“Please—” I gasp. “Home.”
He pulls me against him. “Let’s get you out of here.”
Before I can comprehend what he’s doing, he has gathered me up and is carrying me through the crowded room toward the exit.
I bury my face in his chest and sob for air that won’t reach my lungs.
I try to focus on something, anything else than the panic trying to claw its way out of me.
The first thing I perceive are Lucas’ arms holding me.
They are strong and warm as they are wrapped around me as if to shield me from the outside world.
Then, I hear the beat of his heart against my ear, steady and powerful, the rhythm hypnotic and grounding.
Finally, I register his cologne as air starts to find its way into my lungs again.
When we are outside, I take deep, uncontrolled gulps of air, until the haze shrouding me lifts and I notice that I am clinging to Lucas’ shirt like a lifeline.
Roberto opens the car door, and Lucas carefully settles me inside, then slides in after me.
Once the car starts moving, he gathers me up in his arms again and settles me sideways on his lap.
I can breathe almost normally again, and the band choking me has gradually loosened.
He doesn’t speak, but his warm breath against my temple grounds me more than any word could.
His arms are wrapped tightly around me, and it feels like he is holding me together as I sag against his chest, my body too boneless to hold up on its own.
The city lights blur past, but I barely notice, my face is buried in his neck, I breathe in his cologne and the scent of him underneath, and it brings me steadily back from the dark place I have been.
The noise fades, the silence settles over us like a cocoon shielding me from the outside world.
My mind revels in the blank space where only Lucas exists.
I breathe him in, curling farther into the warmth of his body and his safe embrace.
After what feels like hours, the car drives into the garage in his villa, and Lucas gets out, pulling me after him.
He leans down and picks me up and walks up the stairs.
I am too worn out to resist. He carries me up to the suite and into the shower where he undresses me with infinite care.
Then he undresses himself and ushers me into the shower to wash me slowly and tenderly, like something he’s afraid to break.
Later, when he lays me down on the bed and wraps his arms around me, it feels like his steady hands have reassembled all the loose pieces, reshaping me, making me whole again.
Just before I fall asleep, the terrifying truth slips quietly through the cracks of my fractured psyche—he is the one putting me back together again every time I splinter.
He is the place I feel safest, the haven where the storm settles.
Despite everything, the possessiveness, the fake marriage, the war he keeps hanging over my head like a threat, I stupidly and irrevocably love him.
I’ve never stopped loving him. I nearly sob from the staggering realization.
My tears flow silently onto the pillows as I sink into nothingness.