26. Lucy
Lucy
T wo days pass. Nothing changes.
I keep expecting to find him around every corner, but Adriano’s gone.
Donatella has no clue where he went. His guards keep their mouths shut whenever I try to get anything out of them.
Luca seems like he wants to say something, but he only shakes his head.
“Sorry, but I can’t,” is the best I get when I press him on where the Don has disappeared to.
I take a long, hot shower, thinking about the day we cleaned out his father’s bedroom.
He seemed more like himself than he has in a while.
The stress of this war he’s fighting is clearly getting to him, and losing his father only made it infinitely worse.
But for a little while, I saw him, the man hidden beneath the layers of darkness and death, and I liked it.
I wanted more. Even now I’m wondering when I’ll get another glimpse, and my stomach does little flips just thinking about his hands on my hips and his mouth against my neck.
I get out and wrap myself in a towel. I’m humming to myself, not thinking about anything but what I’ll have for dinner, when I open the bathroom door and go to get changed. I’m oblivious to the world around me because I’m so used to being alone these days.
Which is why I don’t notice him until the towel is down around my ankles and I’m standing butt-ass naked in front of my walk-in closet.
Adriano’s sitting in bed with a book in his lap staring at me.
He doesn’t seem amused.
His expression is pure, burning, skin-melting lust. If I had clothes on, they’d literally explode off my body from the look he’s giving me.
“Oh,” I say, eyes going wide. I’m embarrassed and terrified and deeply, deeply aroused. “Where did you come from?”
He sets the book aside calmly. “I was out of town.”
“Uh, okay.” I cover my breasts with both arms. Then I realize my bottom is bare, though luckily I’m freshly groomed down there, but decide to cover that with one hand.
Somehow that only makes it worse, covering my pussy with one hand and my tits with one arm.
I’m spilling out, and he’s looking at me like he’s about to devour every inch of my body.
I love that look. “You could’ve called.”
“I was touring a Canadian drug pipeline up in the northern provinces.” His lips quirk as he tilts his head. “There’s not much cell service.”
“Sounds super inconvenient. Do you mind if I just get dressed real quick?”
“I definitely mind.”
“Oh, no,” I say, backing into the closet as he slowly climbs out of bed. “You don’t get to kiss me, act like things are going to change, and then disappear again , then come back and expect—” I trail off as he looms in my closet door.
“Expect what, darling?” His eyes are predatory, and there’s a smile on his lips.
My jaw grinds with frustration. “How come everyone acted like they couldn’t talk about where you went?”
“My employees know not to mention super-secret Canadian drug pipelines, not even to my wife.” He licks his lips. “What should I be expecting right now, baby?”
“You know what!”
“You?” he asks, tilting his head.
“Yes, me ,” I say, cheeks turning bright red.
“But I said such a nice apology.”
“Stop it. Also, no, you didn’t.”
“I’m so, so sorry I left you, my beautiful wife.
” His smirk is devilish and sends a thrill right into my core.
God, am I seriously getting wet right now?
I’m cold from the water drying on my skin, and I’m not sure if my nipples are hard because of that or because of the way he’s staring at my body.
He comes closer, grinning ruthlessly now. “I’ve controlled myself long enough.”
“Oh, good for you, you were amazing at ignoring me.” I rip a shirt off the hanger.
“You may go now.” I try to drape it over me, but Adriano moves fast. He destroys the distance between us, grabs the shirt, and tears it from my hand.
I yelp as my completely naked and vulnerable body is yanked against his, and warmth envelops me.
“I was not ignoring you,” he says, his voice low and filled with need. His eyes rake down from my lips to my neck and back up again. “I had business. That’s all.”
“Then why do I feel abandoned?” I regret it the second I say it out loud.
How pathetic am I? Adriano doesn’t owe me anything, not even after the other day.
He was mourning his father and emotionally raw at the time.
I can’t seriously think our relationship is going to progress to something more than a business deal.
Goosebumps shiver across my naked flesh. “I don’t want you to feel that way,” he whispers.
“It’s not your fault. I have my own issues I’m trying to work out, okay?”
“You don’t have to work them out alone.”
“Maybe I do.”
“No, baby.” His lips brush my neck. “I see that I screwed up by not communicating with you. I’m not used to having someone else to think about. I’ve been on my own for a very long time, but you’re in my life now. I’ll keep you informed if I have to leave town for a few days.”
I don’t even know why, but hearing him say that sends a wave of emotion through me.
I don’t know the last time someone cared about me enough to admit they were wrong, much less to try to change.
It’s a small thing, telling me he’s going to disappear on a business trip, but it’s clearly a compromise.
“You don’t have to,” I hear myself saying, and it’s pathetic because I don’t mean it.
But he doesn’t fall for my bullshit. “You’re right. I don’t. But you want me to, and so I will.” One hand brushes across my cheek. “I won’t leave you, Lucy.”
“I know. I mean, we’re married, right? You can’t.”
“No, baby. I mean, I won’t leave you because I don’t want to.” He bends down and brushes his mouth across my throat.
I choke back tears. “Don’t say shit like that,” I whisper.
“It’s hard for you to believe. I can tell you’re struggling with it. But you are more to me than our deal. You have been since the first time we met.”
“In your office?” My voice is tiny. My heart’s racing hard. I feel like I’m ripping open, and he’s running his vicious fingers through my delicate insides. One wrong move and he’ll rip my heart to shreds.
Hope blossoms, and that’s the worst of all.
Living without hope has protected me for a long time.
I stopped hoping that I’d find friends who cared about me for who I am and not just for my name and my social status.
I stopped hoping Grandmother would be proud of me.
I stopped hoping Pierre would turn into a supportive, loving older brother.
I learned to live without hope, and that helped me wrap a layer of armor around myself.
Now it’s coming back. That horrible emotion, hope. Because once it’s here, then I can be hurt again, and I don’t want to ever hurt. Not the way I was hurt after my parents died and our family fell to ruin. Not like that, not ever again.
“The first second I saw you, I knew I wanted you.” His lips move toward mine.
“That’s just sex.”
“No, Lucy. It’s possession. It’s obsession. I told you, I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s ruining me, and I’ve been trying to run away from it for a while now.”
“What’s different now then?”
“The only difference is maybe I’m not as strong as I thought I was.”
Then he crushes my mouth with his. He kisses me hard, and I tumble into him, losing myself, twisting into agony and bliss.
Hope is there, and hope is a killer, but I can’t help myself.
It blossoms in my chest and builds in my core, filling all the empty places in me all over again.
The kiss deepens, lengthens, and I know I should hold back.
But a big part of me wants to give myself to him completely. No more armor, no more fear.
Just me, stripped bare, with the knife of his attention held squarely at my throat.
He tears me from the closet. His kisses turn brutal and hungry.
I whimper as he shoves me onto the bed, sitting me at the edge.
He drops to his knees and keeps kissing, murmuring about how beautiful I am, how good I taste, how much he needs me.
He kisses my lips, my chin, my throat, my neck, down to my breasts and my hard nipples.
He sucks and nibbles them, biting gently, sending shimmers and stabs of pain and pleasure before moving down to my stomach, my belly button, my hips.
He kisses my thighs, my knees, every inch of me, before finally, god, yes, finally, moving between my legs with a deep breath and a sigh of outrageous bliss.
“I missed you every second I was away,” he whispers, licking me up and down, hardening his tongue so he can spread me wide. I’m wet, soaking and dripping, and he only groans as he tastes me. I run my fingers through his thick hair, arching my back into his mouth.
“I missed you too,” I admit, hating myself a little bit for that weakness. But if I want him to open up to me, I have to be willing to meet him halfway. “It’s not the same when you’re not around.”
He groans as he licks me. His fingers slide into my pussy, and he devours my clit, praising me as he does it.
“You’re delicious. The noises you make are perfect.
I want to push you right up to the edge and hold you there until it feels like every single muscle in your body is going to clench and break.
I want you begging, moaning, dripping, writhing, begging for fucking release.
I want you tumbling into your own personal hell of pleasure and need.
I want you to want like you’ve never wanted before, so badly it’s like your very core will never be satisfied unless I give you what you want, and only then, when you’ve been destroyed with need and neglected to the point of breaking, only then will I finally shatter you and give you what you want.
I need you trembling for me, baby. Trembling on your knees and saying my name. Whisper it now, Lucy.”