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With a slight movement, the dress slides over my hips, pooling around my feet on the floor. For the first time, I’m standing in front of a man in nothing but my underwear. I suddenly regret wearing the lacy white panties that I’d chosen. They were for me, to make me feel beautiful, not for him.
As if he read my mind, Luca runs his finger over the edge of them. “You must have had some idea of what might happen tonight,” he says dryly, hooking his fingertip in the lace. “Such delicate lingerie for a bride who planned to stay virginal.”
“I wore them so I would feel good,” I snap, crossing my arms over my bare breasts. “Not for you.” I can feel my defenses going up again, now that I’ve chosen this path. My means of keeping myself safe from him.
Luca doesn’t reply, but in the next instant he yanks them down with that one finger, letting them fall to the floor. I suck in a breath, realizing with a sudden wave of shock that I’m completely, entirely naked.
He reaches up, plucking the comb out of my hair so that it falls down loosely around my face, tumbling out of the twist that Ana put half of it up in. “Be careful!” I gasp. “That’s Ana’s—”
I hear it clatter as he drops it atop the nearby dresser. “Turn around,” Luca says, his voice toneless. “I want to see my bride.”
I bought you.I remember him saying those words to me last night, and they’ve never felt so real as they do now. The fact that my life is at stake has never been so harshly obvious as it is now. I’d wondered once what I would do if it came down to my virginity or my life—and I guess I’ve found out.
Slowly I turn to face him, my arms still crossed over my breasts. I’m acutely aware that everything else is visible to him, but Luca doesn’t look further than where my arms are tightly wrapped around myself yet. He doesn’t say a word, only reaches out and grabs my arms, pulling them down in a quick movement that leaves me entirely, completely bare to him.
I expect something. He’s never failed to show me that he wants me before, never hidden his obvious desire. But now he simply looks at me appraisingly, and nods, as if I’ve met some standard I wasn’t even aware of. And then he jerks his head in the direction behind me, his face still entirely unreadable.
“Go to the bed,” he says harshly. “Pull the blanket back, lay down on the sheet and turn on the bedside light.”
My breath catches in my throat.I don’t know what I wanted, but it wasn’t this.This isn’t gentle or tender, but it’s not the forceful desire of last night either. There’s something cold and clinical about him, and I want to tell him that I’ve changed my mind, that I want him to make it good for me—for both of us, but the words stick in my throat. I can’t quite manage it.
Slowly, I crawl onto the bed, laying back against the soft down pillows. The sheet feels silky against my bare skin, and I feel completely exposed, more vulnerable than I’ve ever been. I flick on the lamp by the bed, and Luca switches off the brighter overhead lights, leaving us in dim, more romantic lighting.
There’s nothing particularly romantic about this, though.
Luca watches me as he pulls his tie loose, tossing it to the floor as he shrugs off his jacket. His eyes never leave me, drifting casually over my naked body as he starts to undo his shirt one button at a time, revealing the bare skin of his chest. At first it’s just the lean, tanned, muscled flesh that appears, but as he pulls the shirt free and slides it off of his shoulders, I see to my shock that he’s tattooed. There’s a saint etched on one upper arm, and an intricate design on the left side of his chest, stretching up over his shoulder and partway down, all of it in blacks and greys, swirling over his smooth olive skin.
But that’s not all that I can’t stop staring at. Clothed, he’s gorgeous, but shirtless he’s something else altogether, something that I don’t even have words for. His chest and abs are perfectly muscled, lean and rippling, the lines on either side of his abs disappearing into his suit trousers in a way that makes my mouth water despite myself. As his hands reach for his belt I can see that he’s hard despite the fact that we’ve barely touched, and despite the fact that he’s clearly trying to make this as impersonal as possible. He’s still aroused by me—the thick, hard bulge that ruins the perfect line of his pants gives that away.
Luca sees my gaze flick downwards, and smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Like what you see?” he asks, sliding the fly of his pants down as he reaches for them and his underwear. Before I can say anything, he pushes it all down his hips, revealing the muscled curve there before he shoves them down and lets them fall, letting me see him entirely naked as well—my first time seeing a naked man in the flesh.
His cock springs up from between his muscular thighs, long and thick and hard, the tip gleaming with his arousal, and when he sees my gaze fix on it he reaches for himself, wrapping his hand around the length of it and stroking slowly as he walks towards me. “You wanted this last night,” he murmurs hoarsely, his green eyes dark with lust as he approaches the bed. “You can’t tell me that you didn’t. I felt it. I felt how wet you were when I slipped between your legs—”
I feel breathless as he stops at the edge of the bed, afraid and turned on all at once, and I can’t take my eyes off of him. I’m wet now, despite myself, my skin tingling, my nipples hard and stiff without his ever having touched them, and I wish that I didn’t want him. But watching Luca walk towards me, sculpted like a Greek god with his rigid cock in his hand, I can’t deny that my body is aching for him. I want to finish what we started last night—and it helps that I have no choice. I have to do this—and an ever-growing part of me wants to enjoy it.
He climbs onto the bed, and I breathe in sharply as he leans over me. I feel small in the shadow of his body, fragile and vulnerable, and as he kneels between my legs, I lay very still, like a rabbit hiding in the grass.
Luca looks down at me, his face smooth and unreadable, and I wish more than anything that I knew what he was thinking. His hand grazes my waist and I shudder, my body twitching under his touch as he drags his palm down to the curve of my hip. “This will hurt for a minute,” he murmurs, his other hand sliding between my legs. “But I’ll try to be gentle.”
My heart is pounding.He’s not going to kiss me,I realize. I’d asked for him to get it over with and that’s exactly what he’s going to do. He’s following my wishes, which in a way is its own kindness, but my stomach knots with anxiety as I feel his fingers slide up my inner thigh, brushing over the soft, warm flesh between my legs.
I see his eyes darken with lust as he touches me. “Good,” he says with satisfaction. “You’re ready for me.”
He’s trying to make it sound cold, clinical, but even he can’t quite manage it. I can hear the drop in his voice, the husky, rasping sound of desire as his fingers trail over my skin and my body responds despite everything, my hips arching up to meet his touch as I gasp softly. His hand moves, and I look down to see him tearing open a condom, rolling it down the length of his shaft as he doesn’t meet my eyes.
No children.I remember the contract then, and I’m suddenly very glad he was prepared—until I remember that he never meant to have sex with me tonight. That condom was meant to be there for some other random encounter, some other woman, and I feel a sudden tightness in my throat, my eyes stinging with tears.
I shouldn’t care, but I do.
Luca says nothing. He spreads my thighs wider, angling his cock towards me, and I feel my entire body stiffen as I realize that it’s about to happen, he’s about to—
“Relax,” he says, glancing up at me. “It’ll hurt more if you don’t.”
I feel the tip of his cock pressing against me then, and I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, my breath coming in small, short pants. I try to relax, but all I can think of is howbighe is, how hard, and that there’s no way he’ll possibly fit—
“Oh!” I cry out as there’s a sharp pain, a sudden pressure, and I realize that the first inch of him is inside of me. My eyes fly open and I see him kneeling there in the dim light of the room, his face shadowed, his body shuddering slightly as his hands cling to my hips. His eyes slide shut as he moves forward another inch, and a groan spills from his lips.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he moans, and I can see his hips jerking slightly, the effort of going slowly almost too much for him. I feel a sudden, sharp flood of desire through my body, a response to seeing him hovering on the edge of control.
