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After I leftthe basement of torture, Wex and Vino were gone from where I’d left them. A part of me knew they’d followed their master, and with heavy steps, I made it to our bathroom without any peering eyes catching my wake.
Two Tylenol and a burning bubble bath later, I assessed my body in front of a mirror. It wasn’t pretty. Not when an iron fist had buried its way into my ribs, the most painful bruise of all. Then, there were faint fingerprints scattered over my hips, bottom, and thighs. A reminder of what sexual intercourse meant with Lucca. Oddly, I was okay with the marks. For once, I did not cower or feel the need to cover them. They didn’t make me feel weak.
It proved that I could hold my own against Arlo, someone I’d been asked not to provoke on multiple occasions. And how Lucca’s fingerprints were nothing more than his need for me. How he may say he fucked without feelings, but my body suggested otherwise.
Lucca fucked me with passion, feverishly, and while he hadn’t been my first, he sure left my body addicted.
With my mind reeling in ways to find him for another dose, I walked out in a thin camisole of satin and lace. In need of making him see I was more than just one of his many fucks. To feel his hands on my body and our bodies dancing with need. Each scenario felt inadequate to crush the dark aura that roamed inside and out of that basement. The same aura that followed him like a prisoner.
I never made it out of the room. Because at times, opportunities fell in front of you, giving you the upper hand. Just like the one I’d received as Lucca crossed the threshold of our door with two heavy legged fur balls close behind.
I bit down on my bottom lip, hiding my eagerness for his touch and the giddiness of our games to begin. After all, they’ve become compelling.
Lucca left Wex and Vino by the closed door as he walked past me with a pile of rumpled clothes in his hands. He didn’t offer me a word or a glance. His attention was aimed straight at the bathroom door. As the door swung open, so did my body. With his back to me, Lucca tossed the clothing into the hamper in the cabinet.
Yeah, I didn’t follow your orders, and you picked up the clothes you so eagerly took off my body from the cold concrete basement floor.
I suppressed a chuckle. I had felt so hurt and used by him that I’d defied him in spite, but I never thought he would pick it all back up.
That chuckle quickly died as his hand gripped his holstered gun and his pants fell from his hips, leaving me to take in his broad shoulders, back, ass, and bare legs for the first time. I didn’t deter my gaze, and he wasn’t one for modesty. The one thing I could depend on, and I didn’t mind. Not. One. Bit.
Lucca twisted his body, and my gaze trailed over every move his muscles made. From the way they jumped with his powering steps to the way they ran down his arm as he placed the weight of his gun against the chilled marble top. All with controlled force.
I took one step, then another until my hips pressed against the doorframe, captivated by his bare, inked body while he acted as if he was alone. Too soon, the spray of running water filled the room, and Lucca left my vision to drown his demons.
But demons could only be muffled.
I fought between my mind and body.
One said, “Go to bed.” The other begged, “One more taste.” And yet my soul craved something terrifying, so I followed my body.
I walked deeper into the bathroom, slipped my camisole off my body, and entered the steaming shower.
With his back facing me, I followed the water drops that licked down his body. The way they gently rushed down his strength and flowed to his hips, wishing it would be my fingertips that felt such skin. I knew Lucca wouldn’t allow such touch, but I didn’t care.
“What are you doing, Katia?” Lucca asked a second too late. My fingers already wrestled the water for his skin.
“Initiating.”
His head dipped, and his body moved away from my touch. In that second, it only made me crave it more.
“Well, if that’s the case, my dick is hard. You can start there.”
I wanted to laugh and smack him at the same time. I shook the violence he pried off me and ignored him and his rejection.
I was smart. There were other ways to touch him.
Picking up Lucca’s body wash, I smirked as I lathered my hands with the soap and watched the ink lines of his back teasing me. With palms ready to hold and fingertips eager to explore, I pushed my hands outwards.
“Either you take me for a fool, or you think I can’t smell body wash.” Lucca faced me, and my hands connected to his abdomen. The shock quickly faded, and I ran my hands up over the defined valley of his torso.
“Neither.” I met his eyes.
His hands clasped my wrists.
“Don’t.” Lucca’s voice sharpened.
“You say that a lot.”
