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“It doesn’t matter,” Luca says crisply. “What does matter is what we’re going to do now.”
My stomach tightens nervously.He’s serious, I realize. Not that I ever doubted it, exactly—but this is a real problem, as massively stupid as it is. “We could do it again,” I suggest hesitantly. “Without a condom? A doctor could prove it then—”
“No,” Luca says sharply. “I want no chance of children. And besides, Rossi will want blood. Blood is our way of life, our—” Luca turns away, striding towards the leather duffel bag sitting by the dresser, which I can only guess is his. He bends over, unzipping it, and when he strides back towards the bed I see what’s in his hand.
A sharp, gleaming hunter’s knife.
“What the fuck!” I squeal aloud, scrambling back. “What the fuck are you going to do with that?”
“Relax.” Luca rolls his eyes. “I’ll cut your inner thigh, just a tiny bit. It’ll leave a small blood spot, and Rossi will be satisfied.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!”
“I’m not,” Luca says coolly. “Would you like what is essentially a scratch, Sofia, or would you like something worse? Because I guarantee the latter is what Rossi has in store for both of us, if we don’t obey.”
I stare at him.I’m so tired of the stupid death threats,I think bitterly. Everything, everything out of his mouth isdo this or die.I’m fucking sick of it. But once again, I can see that there’s no way out.
“Lay down,” Luca instructs. “As if—”
“I’ve got it,” I say between clenched teeth. Any hint of desire is gone now. I close my eyes as I move back into place where I was before, my pulse racing in my throat.
Luca climbs back into the bed, kneeling between my legs as his hand slides up the inside of my upper thigh. Before it felt good, arousing even, but now I’m just angry and scared. I want his hands off of me—I want him to never touch me again.
“Don’t look,” Luca says, and I feel the cold press of a sharp-edged blade against my inner thigh.
It doesn’t hurt that much. He was right about that. It’s a quick sharp pain, like a pinch, not more than what I felt earlier when he slid into me for the first time. But the physical cut isn’t what hurts. It’s everything about the situation, the fact that I gave Luca everything, and it was all for nothing.
“You could have done this in the first place,” I whisper brokenly, resentment filling my voice. “We didn’t have to have sex, we could have faked it—”
I wish I’d thought of that. I wish I’dinsistedon it. It hadn’t even occurred to me in the rush of fear and emotion and shock that had accompanied what Luca had told me earlier, just like I hadn’t pieced together that Rossi would specifically be looking for blood on the sheets. I hadn’t really thought aboutwhythey were coming up to see us in the morning, only that they were and there was no way out of it.
“I thought—”
“What? That I would prefer sex with you to a little cut on my thigh?”
“You wanted me,” Luca says defensively.
“Mybodywanted you! You’re fucking gorgeous, and I’ve never been with a man, and you teased the fuck out of me last night!” I’m shouting again, my voice rising as I shrink away from his touch. “That doesn’t mean I wanted to give youthe only thing I had left to keep!”
“Sofia—”
“Leave me alone.” I jump out of the bed, refusing to look at the spot on the bed. “Just fucking leave me alone!”
Luca says nothing, but I can feel his eyes on me as I flee into the bathroom, straight into the shower and the privacy of the hot water and doors between me and him.
When I finally emerge, every hint of his touch scrubbed off of me, the lights are off. Luca is on the far side of the king-sized bed, and while I can’t see if he’s still naked, he’s far enough away from the other side of the bed that I can manage to sleep without touching him.
But as I lay down, curled up in the pajama pants and tank top I’d brought with me to wear, I can tell that it’s going to be a long, sleepless night. My body aches, but not with the need for pleasure any longer. It just feels sore and restless, my chest tight with anxiety and a faint sense of betrayal, and I want more than anything to be far, far away from him.
I can’t wait for this to be over.
Luca
My new wife hates me.
I can see it in her eyes when we wake up the next morning, in the way she refuses to meet mine, the way she shrinks away from me when I make even the slightest move towards her. The tension in the room is so thick that I could cut it with a knife—which is ironically a large part of the reason she’s so angry with me.
I suppose I should have thought of that as a solution last night—but I didn’t. And in the heat of the moment, with the opportunity to finally fuck my beautiful, innocent new bride—who can blame me, really? I wanted her, and I had her.
