I smile at him, my heart much more at ease as I climb on top of him. He’s breathing hard as his hands wrap around my hips, his eyes on my pussy. I grab his cock and align it before slowly sinking down on it.
“So fucking tight,” he moans. “Your pussy is perfection, baby. Sucking me off made you wet, huh?”
A soft moan escapes my lips as I sit down on him fully, taking all of him. It’s been so long, and the way he’s stretching me out is unreal. He tightens his grip on my hips, but he doesn’t moveme up and down the way he used to. Instead, he leans back and watches me patiently.
This isn’t what I want. I don’t want him to indulge me. I don’t want him to give into me just to fulfill my needs. I want him to act as passionate and out of control as he used to.
I slowly begin to ride him, and he gently moves his hips with me, meeting me thrust for thrust and fucking me deeply. He looks into my eyes as he places his thumb against my clit, making it so that I brush against it with every move.
I wanted to make him lose control, yet he’s the one who’s making me lose my sanity. I don’t want it like this. I don’t want him to focus on my pleasure like his own doesn’t matter. I need the old Luca, the one who was impatient with me because my touch drove him crazy. When he’s like this, it just makes me more scared. I’m terrified that I’m losing him, and this is just more proof of it. I want him to ease all of my irrational thoughts, every insecurity, every voice in my head that tells me I’m not good enough.
“I’m close, baby,” he whispers as his fingers turn rougher. He’s going to make me come again if he keeps that up, and I don’t want to lose control before he does.
I bite down on my lip and ride him harder, but with every move, his touch becomes more intense. He moans my name and finally starts to thrust into me the way I wanted him to, pushing me over the edge.
Luca wraps his forearm over his mouth and bites down on it when my pussy clamps down on his cock, an orgasm stronger than the one in the shower coursing through me. His eyes fall closed, and he comes right along with me.
“Fuck, baby,” he moans as his lashes flutter. “I fucking love you.”
I stare at him, my heart empty. “Let’s end this,” I whisper.
He opens his eyes and frowns, his hands wrapping around my waist. “End what?”
“This. Us.” I feel numb as I say the words. There’s a slight ache in my heart, but mostly, I feel despondent. Deep down, I know that this is inevitable, and I no longer want to drag it out. “I’m tired of being with you. I’m tired of feeling so insecure and inadequate, and I don’t want to have to worry about how much longer this will last. Besides, none of this is real, and you know it. I don’t want to live under your rule anymore. I want real happiness, and you’ll never be able to give me that, Luca. From the very start, I was just a tool to you, and I’m done wondering what will happen to me when I outlive my usefulness.”
He stares at me in shock, pure pain and torment flashing through his eyes. Luca inhales shakily and covers his face with his arm, hiding himself from me. He’s silent for a moment, and I shift slightly on top of him. I can still feel him inside me, but somehow, I’m too scared to move off him. It feels like everything between us truly will shatter if I do.
“You… Valentina…” He pulls his arm away, and the look in his eyes guts me. I’ve never seen him look so hurt before. “You’re unhappy in our marriage?” He turns his head and looks away. “All this time, have you just felt trapped?”
Luca shakes his head when I lower my head and stay silent, unsure what to say. One part of myself is begging me not to do this, while another part is telling me it’s inevitable, and it’s better to push him away now instead of dragging this out. Even if he thinks he loves me, it’s fleeting, and ultimately, he should find a woman that actually deserves him. That will never be me.
He gently lifts me off him before sitting up, his back toward me as he sits at the edge of my bed. Luca buries his face in his hands and inhales shakily. “Let’s go home,” he murmurs. “That’s what I was going to tell you earlier… but home for you was never with me, was it? I always said that the one thing I could neverdo was let you go, but what right do I have to hold on when I’m suffocating you?”
He rises from my bed and reaches for his weekend bag. I sit on my knees and watch him as he gets dressed, my heart bleeding. Part of me is screaming for me to take my words back, but I can’t stop this spiral, not even when regret sets in instantly.
He turns toward me as he buttons up his shirt. “I thought you were different,” he murmurs. “I’ve never met a woman who wanted me for who I am, but I thought you did, Valentina. I guess I was wrong.” He laughs humorlessly and shakes his head. “I love you,” he says, but his tone is harsh. “I fucking love you with all I’ve got, yet you sit there, making my worst fears come true like I’m fucking nothing to you. The reason you married me is gone, so you’re cutting me loose?”
He looks at me then, helplessness marring his handsome face. “I’m trying my hardest to remind myself that this is just your grief talking, but you’re breaking my fucking heart, baby. What am I supposed to do here? What am I supposed to say?”
His eyes fall closed for a moment, and he takes a deep breath. “Tell me you didn’t mean what you just said. Tell me you love me, and that our marriage wasn’t just a means to an end for you.”
I look down at my hands, my entire body numb. Deep down, I can feel a small part of me pleading for me to speak up, to not let him go, but darkness drowns out that voice. It would only take him a few months to get over me. I’m sure of it.
“Valentina, if this is what you call love, I don’t want it.”
He zips up his bag and turns his back to me. I watch as he walks out of my bedroom, leaving me here alone for the first night since I lost Abuela.
It hurts, but I know it’s for the best.
Chapter Sixty-One
Luca
I stare at my wedding ring as I lean back against my sofa, the house empty and quiet. When did this place start feeling incomplete without Valentina? Just being here hurts, because everything reminds me of her. I can’t even go to the office without thinking of her. She’s infiltrated my life so deeply that I can’t go anywhere without thinking of her.
I sigh as I reach for my pocket watch and stare at the photo of her inside it. She hasn’t contacted me at all, and I have no idea what to do. I can’t tell if it’s just her grief that’s making her act up, or if it’s more. The feelings she had for me, were they truly that superficial, that fleeting?
Part of me wants to go running back to her, but another part of me feels like that would just be harassment. I’ve already asked so much of her, and in the last few weeks, she’s made it quite clear that she doesn’t want me around. How much longer can I force my presence on her? I stayed by her side week after week, even when she barely acknowledged me. Should I have taken the hint sooner?