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When I stand naked but for my stockings and boots, Luca kneels at my feet, unlacing each boot before pulling it off. He does it barehanded, the mud from my boots smearing on his fingers.
He rolls my stockings down, and he kisses my legs despite how dirty they are. He kisses the mangled, messy scar whereCerberus bit me, then the brand-new bruises on my thighs, and then my ribcage and every scar along my arms. I push his head away with a half-hearted laugh, embarrassed by his tenderness.
“You’re so obsessed with me,” I tell him, just to provoke him, just to remind him of how embarrassing his behaviour is.
But instead of pulling away with a sneer or shooting back a cutting repartee, Luca answers with his lips pressed to the delicate skin between my breasts.
“So what?”
I don’t have an answer for him. He stands, smiling shamelessly, and he leads me to the shower. He washes me from head to toe, rubbing shampoo into my hair, then conditioner, scrubbing all the mud off my skin, rinsing the suds away.
I don’t offer to return the favour and he doesn’t ask me to. He just peels his own dirty clothes and steps into me under the shower. His cock is so hard it stands straight against his flat belly, and it brushes against my hip when I turn to give him a stare of pure disbelief.
“Already?”
“I told you it’s more broken than ever.”
I look down at the hard length of it, the elegant streak of the veins, the shiny pink head. “It doesn’tlookbroken to me.”
“If it wasn’t broken, Lynch, it wouldn’t get hard every time you open that dumb, dirty mouth of yours.”
I can’t say I’m not flattered, and despite how sore I am, my body is definitely considering its options because I can practically feel the wetness between my legs. I shake my head with vehemence, a denial to myself as much as to him.
“Well, keep it away from me. I’m still recovering. You practically hospitalised me in that fucking forest.”
Luca stares down at me. The water falling from above us plasters his pale hair to his skull, strands half-covering his eyes,and his mouth is twisted in a predatory smirk. “You have five seconds.”
“What?”
“You have five seconds to get out of this shower, Lynch. Five.”
I glare at him. “Or what?”
“Or I’m going to fuck the first hole of yours I can get my cock in. Four.”
“Psycho freak, ugh, who—”
“Three.”
“I’m getting out. Don’t touch me, I’ll scream, I swe—”
“Two.”
I throw open the glass door and shove past him to get out of the shower. I grab the first towel I get my hands on and wrap it around my body. I turn, and my mouth drops open before I can even throw an insult in Luca’s direction.
He leans against the glass wall of the shower, braced on one arm, his other hand wrapped around his dick, sliding up and down. His forehead rests on his forearm, and his eyes are pinned to mine, ice-grey glints through the wet strands of his hair.
“I’mrighthere!” I exclaim, more gobsmacked by his shamelessness than outraged by his actions.
“Mm, yes…” Luca’s mouth drags the word out in a quiet hiss, and I recoil, heart hammering, turned-on and disgusted in equal measures. “Tell me how much you like me, Lynch.”
“I find you despicable and repulsive, you make my skin crawl, and—”
“Ah, yes, yeah. Lynch. Just like that.” Luca’s eyes are heavily hooded, the shower water pouring over his head and shoulders, the muscles in his shoulders and arms taught as he pulls on his dick faster.
There’s something almost mesmerising about the shamelessness of it all. His wet, naked body, his hand working his cock, the flush burning in his cheeks, the desire laid bare inhis hooded eyes, his open mouth. It draws me like a lighthouse drawing a bird to its death, dazzled and disoriented. I press myself on the glass, looking up at Luca, whose eyes never leave mine.
“You’re nothing more than a worthless, pathetic worm. Good for nothing but getting stepped on.”
