Fuck me. She’s going to kill me.
“I’m on fire. I want you to mark my body, claim every inch with your teeth, your tongue, your bruises.” She bucks her hips. The dress shifts, the material falling away, exposing her tits, her rosy nipples hard and ready for sucking.
Scooping up a piece of ice from my glass, I drag the cold cube across my lips. “You’re hot, little dancer. Let’s cool you down,” I tell her, dripping the cube up her thigh and over her mound.
She uses her fingers to open herself up for me, the scent of her arousal speaking to the animal in me.
Claim her.
Fuck her.
Make her yours.
Slipping the cube down her clit rewards me a groan and hitch of her breath. Crooking my fingers, I push past her folds into her needy hole, thrusting the melting ice inside her.
“Luca,” she calls out as I enter her, her needy walls clutching onto me.
“Your fingers are so much thicker than mine. Fuck me with them,” she pleads. Her brow crashes as a wave of euphoria washes over her, her cunt pulsing, holding onto me greedily.
I thrust harder, fucking her tight hole. Adding a third finger, I stretch her, the ice water turning warm from her heat.
She’s on fire and about to erupt.
Her head swings back, her tits bouncing as she bucks her hips up to meet every thrust.
I pound my fingers harder, the juices making a delicious beckoning sound. I want to feast on her.
This is madness.
When she cries out, her body shuddering, toes curling, I almost come in my slacks.
I pull out of her, a sheen of nectar coating my fingers.
Grabbing the bottle of whiskey I tease her entry with it, getting all her flavor on the rim before backing away, leaving her gasping on my desk.
“You’ve made a mess,” I spit out cruelly. “Clean it up, then have one of my men drive you home.” I swig from the bottle, letting my tongue linger on the lip to taste her.
“I don’t have a fucking home, Luca. You took it from me!” she screams, righting herself.
“I don’t owe you anything!” I roar, launching the bottle across the room and exiting before I do something crazy like take her up on her offer.
I want her too fucking much. It’s more than need, it’s everything.
I want everything from her.
The drive back to the house gives me too much time for reflection. She laid herself bare for me tonight, and I rejected her—left her with nothing and sent her on her way.
They can’t kick her out of the school tonight. They must have to give her time to collect her shit and make arrangements.
Dammit.
She’s not my problem.
She has to go.
“We’re here, sir,” Seth, my driver for the night, informs me. I hadn’t noticed us pull up.
The house is buzzing with activity. A couple of my father’s nurses wait for my return. “What is it?” I ask immediately, wary of their concerned expressions.
“Your father took a nasty fall in the bathroom tonight. His body is weak, sir. He refused to go to hospital. We have treated him the best we can, but I think he’s broken his wrist.”
“Can he not be treated here?”
Her face crinkles, worry lines like craters on her forehead. “We can get the equipment, but not until tomorrow. Please try to get him to rest until then,” she pleads. “He doesn’t listen to me.”
He doesn’t listen to anyone. He’s fading, losing himself.
Hushed grumblings greet me when I enter his room. “How are you feeling?” I ask, taking in the IV he’s attached to.
“Parched. Those women I pay to wait on me are savages.” He coughs on the last word, his frail body jerking around from the strain of it.
A smile tilts my lips. “They’re here to medicate you,” I correct.
“Whisky is medicine,” he grunts.
Can’t argue with that.
“Have you dealt with the problem your brother created yet?”
“It’s in motion,” I tell him, pushing my hands through my hair. It’s been a long night. Hell, it’s been a long week.
“Am I going to get to see my son marry before I die?” he croaks, vulnerability like a chink in his armor.
Alyssa twirls through my mind, eating away at me. She would be safer here wearing my ring under my watchful eye.
My heart thuds hard. The thought of her being mine loosens the tightness I’ve had in my chest since leaving her tonight.
“There is someone, actually.”
He perks up, his eyes sparking with interest. “Really?”
Yes, really.
I need to own what I’m feeling. I’m Luca Leto, I take what I want. And trying to push her away is having the opposite effect. We’re drawn to each other.
“She’s young, but mature. There’s something about this girl. She’s special,” I say honestly, releasing a knot inside me.
“Tell me more.”
My whole life, my father was a man feared, a man always busy, always dealing with some crucial conflict.