We walked down the hall in silence and climbed the stairs to the third floor. Luca had the entire west wing to himself. I poked my head into a few rooms to see what Luca was hiding, but Marcello pulled on my arm, dragging me toward the end of the hall.
We stopped in front of a set of double doors left open a crack. Anxiety bubbled in my stomach as Marcello knocked, then pushed the door open. I let out a deep breath and prepared myself to be alone with Luca.
Three walls were white except for the one behind his bed, black to match his headboard… and his heart. I inched my way into the room, with Marcello behind me. Still dressed in his suit, Luca sat in an oversized armchair by the window with a glass of scotch in front of his mouth. He took in the sight of me, his blue eyes untamed and feral as they roamed up and down my thighs.
Marcello left without a word, closing the door behind him.
“Sit on the bed,” Luca ordered.
I glanced at the black sheets and gulped down my fear. Luca sipped from his glass, studying me as I sat across from him, leaving no part of my body uncharted. I wiped my sweaty palms on his sheets, hating how nervous he made me.
He downed the last of his scotch and set the glass on the table. Leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs, he licked his lips. “What’s under the robe?”
“Come find out.”
He rose from the chair and ran a hand through his dark spiky hair. A rush of adrenaline coursed through my body as he loomed over me with a crazed expression on his face.
Luca slid his hand beneath my chin and lifted me from the bed. A ripple of energy shot down my arms as our eyes met.
Luca Salvatore was a hunter.
This side of him scared me, but it also turned me on. I liked the rush. The feel of my blood pumping so fast I struggled to catch my breath.
Luca shoved the robe off my right shoulder, exposing my bare skin to the chill in the air. My nipples hardened into points as his fingers danced along my skin.
“Are you going to give me trouble?”
I shook my head.
“Good girl.”
He held my gaze for what felt like minutes before he pushed me down on the bed. I laid back on the soft sheets, a moan escaping my lips as he yanked my thighs apart and pulled me closer to him. Luca leaned forward to untie the belt at my waist, revealing the lacy lingerie that hid nothing.
His eyes flickered with carnal hunger as they traveled over my breasts, my nipples sore from his careful inspection. He rolled the pad of his thumb over the tiny bud and groaned.
I soaked through the lace, desperate for him to touch me. After years of hating him, I could not deny how much I wanted him. His anger, his rage, I wanted all of it. Because the same fire burned inside of me, begging to break free.
He dipped his head down, the heat from his breath racing up my stomach. I shivered from his touch, and a wave of red-hot pleasure spread down my thighs. His mouth hovered over my nipple. I expected him to suck on it through the fabric, but he just breathed on my skin, teasing me.
“Tell me what you want, Drea.”
After years of craving his sinful touch, I wanted him to fuck me until I couldn’t walk out of his bedroom. So I moved my hand to the back of his head, gripping his hair. A cocky smirk tugged at the right corner of his mouth as my lips brushed his.
“I wantyou, Luca.”
He pinned me to the mattress with his muscular body, his lips crashing into mine with fury. Sweeping my tongue into his mouth, I tightened my grip on his hair and rocked my hips, desperate to create some friction.
He held me down like he wanted to tear me apart, kissing me with every ounce of hatred I felt for him. I was sick to want him. Stupid to let my bully touch me again.
With each flick of his skilled tongue, we fought a war with each other. Luca tasted like scotch and poor decisions. He was the devil in disguise, a man who made me sin and never want to stop.
He claimed my body like a new territory he wanted to conquer, fisting my curls between his fingers as he deepened the kiss. His long, hard cock speared my inner thigh. I fought for control, and he gripped both of my wrists, holding them above my head.
Luca lifted the thin strip of lace over my breast and pinched the hard bud between his fingers. He twisted my nipple harder, and this time I cried out in pain. “Do you want to know what it takes to be my queen?”
“Yes,” I moaned.
He ripped the lace straight down the middle, baring my naked body to him. Pinching my other nipple, he yanked so hard I thought he would rip it off. But with the pain came an intense pang of pleasure.