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Chapter Twelve
Luca
The heat of Romania’s summer comes crashing down onto my skin, burning from being outside for hours today —with her. We’ve run through the gardens, even disappearing into her parents newly sculptured hedge maze. After we were done, the two of us walked down to the back part of her family’s estate and sat under the tree a mere twenty feet away from the river.
“You’re such a good friend to me, Luca. I wish you and your family didn’t have to go back to Italy so soon. It’s fun having you here.” Mariana says with a soft smile. I watch as her smile falls away as quickly as it came.
Mariana might not be thinking about the future, however it’s the only thing I think about. My father makes sure I’m constantly trying to figure out where my place will be. He’s made his decision when it comes to whether my brother or I will be running the Clan, and he’s chosen Isaac. Even now it makes me irritable. He’s chosen the softer one, versus the son he has with an iron fist. While he may not regret his decision now, one day he will.
“What . . . what if one day I didn’t have to leave your side?” I ask the question that’s been haunting my mind these past few days, unsure if I would have the courage to ask her.
She pulls her brows together at the same time she purses her lips while her curly blonde hair flows in the wind. “What do you mean?”
“What if . . . when we’re twenty-one, you and I get married. We could create our own contract and live happily ever after. We’ve been friends since we were little. Our fathers are the best of friends, as are our mothers. Not only that, but I love you, Mariana Vasile. I think I always have.”
Mariana’s face flushes with a bright red and her gaze moves to the ground in front of her. She’s even pulled her hands onto her lap and I know I’m about to be shot down. Shaking her head, she confirms this. “Luca, I can’t go against my father. Not now, not ever. He’s secured a marriage for me already, one that’s been orchestrated since I was merely days old.”
I stand up, angered that she won’t even give me a chance. “You’d rather marry someone who’s essentially a stranger versus someone who you enjoy spending time with? I told you I love you, and you don’t even care.”
Mariana brings her eyes to mine, “Luca, you are my friend . . . but my father says things about yours. He says you’re just like your father. How you’re callous and will do anything for power. Mother has always told me to be aware of my surroundings and the people I spend time with. I thought . . . I thought we were friends and we both knew that, but I—I think you’re trying to take advantage of me like the others. Are you doing that? Do you just want this hypothetical marriage to happen so you can be above your brother and prove to your father that he made a grave mistake? You’re the one who constantly tells me you’d prove it to him one day, how choosing Isaac over you would hurt him in the end.”
I don’t even know what to say to her right now. She’s finding a way to twist my genuine feelings for her. “While I am going to show my father one day how choosing Isaac was a mistake, I’d never fake the feelings I have for you. We’ve spent every summer together ever since we were small children. Why would I fake that? Why would you think I’d fake it?” I ask her, standing in silence for far too many moments.
I start to walk off, but then my forearm is tugged back and I’m facing Mariana. Tears are streaming down her face, “I—I’m so sorry, Luca . . . but I can’t. You’re such a dear friend to me, but I can’t go against my father.”
“Do you have feelings for me?” I inquire, knowing all of this can’t be one sided.
“I . . . it doesn’t matter, Luca. None of it does because my life has been decided for me.”
I shut my eyes, taking in a deep breath before I can respond back to her. Never will I let my anger show, not when it comes to her. “One day you’ll regret your decision. You’ll be in your castle with your husband, married, and entirely unhappy . . . and I’ll be there, watching, wondering when you’ll realize what you gave up.”
I wake up in a dead sweat from my dream, recalling the memory like it was yesterday. It was the last time I saw Mariana before she was taken by Jonas Masterson. I didn’t see her the summer after that, or any other day. Whenever a Clan meeting was called where the children could go I came up with some excuse to not be around her. It wasn’t because I was afraid, but . . . I was hurt. I didn’t have even the slightest fraction of confidence that I do now.
Throwing my legs over the side of my bed, I can sense my cock is as hard as a rock. There’s no debating what I’m to do in this moment. I slide on my black satin robe, tie it around my waist and leave my bedroom, heading down the stairwell until I’m heading down the stairwell that leads down to theoubliette.
The soles of my feet barely make a sound since I didn’t put slippers on, and I walk across the stone floor until I’m quietly inserting the key into the slot and place my hand over the scanner. The door pops and I swing it open, leaving the key in the door. Discreetly I approach her naked body with only the limelight of the moon supplying illumination over her body.
Her breasts are round and voluptuous, while her body curves into that perfect hourglass figure. She isn’t stick thin, but she isn’t overweight either. In layman’s terms, she’s practically every man’s wet dream. She lays on her back with her left leg propped up against the iron, while her right sticks straight out. Meanwhile, she’s twisted a bit with her right arm under her pillow.
I don’t know what comes over me, if it’s carnal desire to violate her in such a way, or what. Even with the others I never acted this unpredictable. Step by step I grow closer to her, planting my knees on the bed below her, slowly bringing my cock closer to her opening. Surprisingly, she’s wet. It makes me wonder if she’s dreaming about the way I fucked her throat and let her swallow my cum. Every other bitch I made spit it out. They didn’t deserve to swallow my seed.
Pushing my body weight against her, I enter inside her, instantly reveling in the way her tight cunt conforms to the size of my cock. I plant my hands on her hips and rock into her slowly, feeling her body out. I know at any moment she’ll open her eyes and realize what’s happening to her. Part of me wonders how she’ll react, if she’ll scream and cry or if she’ll pull me closer and beg for any ounce of pleasure I so graciously give her.
As her hazel eyes meet mine, I know there isn’t a moment left to wonder. She tenses up for a second, so I speak in a hushed tone, attempting to calm her. “Shh, brat. Let me make you feel good.”
Some sort of noise starts to come out of her mouth, so I take my left hand and cover it while my right wraps around her throat. It’s almost like my tightening hand causes a train reaction straight to her pussy as it begins to constrict my cock.
Increasing my pace, I roll my hips and fuck her like a common whore, watching her breasts bounce before my very eyes. The light shines directly over her tits and I see the way her nipples bud a little harder as the time passes. I lean over and bring my mouth to one of her tits, circling her hardened nub with my tongue before I bite down, causing her to moan loudly, thrashing like a wild animal. But, that isn’t all. With each thrust I feel her pussy growing wetter.
In one swift movement I release her throat and mouth, remove my mouth from her breast, slide my cock out of her and flip her over so her knees are on her bed. I slam my cock inside of her, planting my left hand on her hip and skim my right hand up to her hair, tangling my fingertips into her long strands and force her to look me in the eyes.
I’ve always tried to find a woman that could be my Mariana, the woman I’ve always wanted . . . but as much as I’m trying to, I don’t believe I want Elena to become a replica of her. I’m slowly starting to realize I’m liking Elena for being the bratty bitch she is.
Fuck. I shake my head at the realization . . . shocked by the way this woman is somehow getting into my head and release her, removing my cock from her perfectly wet cunt, pick my robe up from the ground and slide it back over my body. After I’m done tying it, I go to the door, remove the key and shut the gate, walking up the stairs.
I’ve never been known to not finish—but I must get a grasp on my head before I go near her again.
