“Fuck, that feels good.”
Luca sucked on my nipple, sending a ripple of electricity down my legs. At first, he soothed my pain, but then his soft licks turned into hard tugs with his teeth. He stared at me with my nipple between his teeth and a wild look in his eyes.
“Luca,” I panted.
He released my nipple, and then his tongue was on my skin, gliding down my stomach. Every inch of my body heated where his tongue touched, and when he stopped right above my pussy, I cupped the back of his head.
“Please, Luca.”
Hearing his name from my lips must have sparked something inside him, because he looked even more insane as he looked up at me.
“A queen never begs.” Luca slid off the bed and rose to his full height. “She takes what she wants.”
I sat up, my entire body trembling with anger. “What are you doing, Luca?”
He stepped backward and shook his head. “We’re done. Get dressed.”
What the fuck?
I glanced down at my ripped lingerie and sighed. Luca made my head fucking spin with all of his mind games. I was an idiot to think I was finally getting somewhere with him.
He typed a quick text message, then poured himself another glass of scotch before dropping into the armchair by the window. The bastard lit a cigar and looked at me from beneath his dark brows. A plume of smoke gathered around his head. He went back to typing messages, pretended I wasn’t in the room with him.
Marcello appeared a minute later. He gave me a concerned look and helped me tie the robe around my waist.
Furious with Luca, I marched over to him, stood between his spread thighs, and smacked him across the face. “That’s what a queen would do.”
Fuck, that hurt.
As I walked away, I shook out my stinging palm.
Luca roared with laughter.
I stormed out of the room with Marcello at my side. Neither of us muttered a single word until we were one floor below and standing in front of my bedroom door.
Marcello grabbed my shoulder. “What was that about?”
I peeked up at him and shrugged. “I’m playing the game.”
The rest of the week wasn’t as dramatic. I barely saw the Salvatore brothers. They were busy running their companies, which left me a lot of time to paint. With my show in a few weeks, I needed to be prepared. I couldn’t mess up my chance, not after they had done so much to help advance my career.
No more bathroom ambushes from Damian. The few times I saw him, he barely looked at me, let alone tried to touch me. Bastian was also distant. He hadn’t even called me Cherry during our brief encounters. Marcello was back to his broody, lonely boy routine. And Luca was nowhere to be found.
Were they bored with me already?
After a three hour painting session, I stripped off my paint-covered overalls and searched for something to wear. I changed into a pair of skinny jeans and a navy blue top. The clothes molded to my body. Even the Valentino pumps were the perfect size. Dressed in thousands of dollars worth of clothing, I felt like a princess.
I checked my hair one last time and headed downstairs to meet Arlo’s driver. We had an appointment at Picasso’s Playground, so I could get more art supplies. They were closing the store for one hour just for me. One of the many perks of living with the Salvatores.
I strolled down the main hallway, headed toward the entrance of the palatial estate. Loud voices traveled from a distance. Several voices, one after the other, talking over the other.
I stopped outside the sitting room and pressed my back against the wall.
“Her brother no longer exists,” Arlo said in a deep tone laced with irritation.
“She’s asked about him,” Marcello said. “I can’t lie to her forever.”
“None of that matters,” Arlo said in a firm tone. “Luca is marrying Alexandrea Wellington to secure our legacy with The Founders Society. ”