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“Excuse me?” Arianna snapped.
I watched her face flush hot. No one spoke to her like that. She was the Boss’ wife, everyone showed her respect. Not to mention Luca was a friend and completely out of line even in that respect. I gaped in shock at his behavior.
He stared at Arianna, unaffected by her anger. “I said, get the fuck out.” Luca walked to the nearby chair and removed his coat and shoulder holsters, draping them over the chair.
I stood, suddenly finding my voice. “Luca don’t talk to her like that.” Cold eyes met mine and I recoiled, taking a step back.
“What the hell Luca? Why are you being such a dick?” Arianna fumed behind me, still sitting on the bed.
Luca’s face darkened, I didn’t think it was even possible. Moving across the room with purposeful strides he stopped at the end of the bed. His fierce gaze bore into Arianna. “Get out of my house and go home, or I will make you.”
Arianna stood abruptly. I took her arm and we made our way to the door. We didn’t make it halfway across the room before, “Where do you think you are going?”, halted me in my tracks.
I turned. “I’m going to walk her out.”
“No, you’re not. She knows the way.” His gaze swung towards Arianna. “Get moving.”
Arianna’s eyes narrowed at him. I gave her a quick hug and she left.
I stood in the middle of the room taking in Luca standing by the bed. I was mad enough to spit nails. It was one thing to be mad at me, fine, but to treat Arianna like that was uncalled for. He’d been brooding and mean for the past week. I was done dealing with his shit. “What is the matter with you?”
“Come here,” he said in a low voice.
“No. You’ve hardly been here the last week and now you show up in the middle of the day and treat my friend, your friend, like shit. Why?”
His gaze dropped to my bare legs. The shift dress I wore was short to say the least. His eyes burned a path up my legs to my breasts and finally my face. And I saw it, sexual frustration, hot and heavy behind the anger. My eyes widened when he reached down to adjust his raging boner.
“I want to fuck.” For a second I thought I saw a flicker of regret at his choice of words but it was gone so fast I figured I imagined it. And hoped I didn’t.
I laughed, but there was no amusement in it. Crossing my arms over my chest, I watched his eyes hone in on my tits when they pushed up. I tried to hide how hurt I was at his words. Luca never talked to me like that, demanding sex like I meant nothing. Asshole.
“Not a chance. You think I would let you touch me after how you’ve treated me?” I slashed my words at him like a knife.
A growl escaped his throat and he was moving, crossing the room with powerful strides. He stopped within an inch of touching, then straightened to his full height to tower over me. “You are my wife.”
“Yes. Your. Wife. Not some whore. You can’t treat me like shit and expect me to spread my legs for you. Right now, if you want it, you’re going to have to take it.” My eyes narrowed in challenge. There was no doubt in my mind that Luca would never rape me. But when his eyes flashed and darkened a cold rush ran down my body.
“I don’t have to take anything.” His eyes dropped to my mouth and I resisted biting my lip. “You know you can’t resist me. I know you. After days without my cock, you are craving it.” On any other day he would be right.
“Yes, I can.” He closed the last inch between us and I felt the heat of him against me, his erection heavy on my stomach. My cheeks turned hot. I didn’t realize how desperate for sex— connection— I was until that moment. Stay strong.
He smirked as my blush flamed. “Are you sure about that?” His hands came up to my hips as he leaned down to brush his lips across my collarbone. For a split second my lips parted on a sigh. No. I will not give in and let him get away with his unacceptable behavior.
He ground his hard length against me and I shoved him away. “No. Not like this.”
He blinked, as if he couldn’t believe I’d actually rejected him. “Not like what?” Luca ground out, his body going rigid.
I waved an angry hand at him. “With you hating me. Not speaking hardly a word to me for days and now demanding sex just to fill your needs and blow off steam. Not in a million years.”
“Well, maybe I’ll find someone who is willing to satisfy my needs.” My head whipped back. His eyes widened with shock at his own words. But the damage was done. Even if he had only said it out of anger, it ripped me in half all the same.
A full adrenaline rush stung my body. Anger flashed bright red. Out of all the things he could threaten me with that was the worst, and he knew it. My hand connected with the side of his face and then I ran from the room.
When I reached my old bedroom I rushed inside and slammed the door. Tears poured down my cheeks but they weren’t tears of sorrow. No, these were tears of anger and frustration. Sobs and growls hissed out from behind my clenched teeth as I paced the room.
I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs. I wanted to hit or throw something, do anything that would allow me to unleash the fury that was overwhelming my body. To shatter something the way he’d shattered me.
At first there had been pain and disbelief that Luca would threaten me with something so terrible. But now, barricaded in my old room my fight not flight kicked in. It begged me to go back and do more than slap him. A knee to the balls, a palm straight up into his nose— hopefully breaking it— and a punch right in the stomach where he could feel exactly how I felt.
I flexed my fingers and balled them into fist over and over, trying to make the sensations go away. Forcing my breathing to slow and my heart to stop racing I slummed onto the bed.
Full well knowing Luca was going through some form of self-inflicted torture, I could sympathize, but I still wanted to wring his neck. He was being so stupid and petty. Childish. Luca was an adult, and for him to not be able to deal with his personal shit without taking it out on me was frustrating to no end.
I’d been faithful, caring, understanding, and forgiving through everything. I’m done letting water under the bridge. Luca needed to know straight out that I would not spend the rest of my life being his emotional punching bag.
I may not have been able to walk away from the marriage physically but that didn’t mean I couldn’t emotionally detach. If I stopped trying, stopped caring, then I would be less likely to get hurt so brutally when it came down to situations like that.
The idea had more tears wetting my face. It would be a miserable existence. And my heart would be forever broken.
