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11
LUCA
She was a virgin. A fucking virgin!
At least two hours have passed since I left her. No. Not left her. I fucking ran because I wasn’t prepared for any of it. Not the complete and overwhelming loss of my senses, the ones that matter, where all that was left was her taste in my mouth, her scent in my nostrils, her heat on my skin, and her tight pussy clamped around my cock.
I’ve never wanted to fuck any woman so hard. To pound into her until she screamed. Until I screamed. Because she deserves the pain for what she did—the lie, the deceit.
And for being a pain in my ass for as long as I’ve known her. I wanted to hurt her to ease my own desperate ache. This fucking edginess and hunger for something I’ve never had before but have craved beyond reason.
So I let go of that control and thrust into her like a fucking madman. Saying I didn’t feel the obstruction would be a lie. There was something there. A barrier that tried to stop me, but I was too far gone to give a single fuck about anything other than burying my dick as deep as it would go.
“Luca, I’m not a virgin anymore.” Alma’s confession had come out of nowhere, especially when I hadn’t expected her to be.
But it surprised me nonetheless. She seemed so innocent, her kiss soft and timid. It was hard to imagine she’d been with anyone before.
Carina, however, with her passionate temperament and the way she reeks of sensuality, couldn’t possibly have been a virgin. It wasn’t even a consideration of mine.
But she was.
“Five hours ago. Gianni’s brother is…” My uncle’s voice fades in and out from the cell phone I’m holding a few inches from my ear. “Luca, are you still there?”
“Mmm.”
He called me to tell me something important. But his timing couldn’t be worse, not when I’m still reeling from my first encounter with that woman.
The image of her beneath me, the cry that formed on her lips as I entered her, comes to mind. All I could think of in that moment was how fucking tight she was. How good she felt. And how badly I wanted to fill her up with my cum.
I wanted to hurt her. To hurt us both. To leave us scarred after this. Her, because she tried to fuck me over. Me, because I wanted her in spite of it.
But then there was blood, and instantly, I knew she’d been a virgin and I’d taken her without a single ounce of gentleness. Would I have done things differently if I’d known?
No. My palms still burn with the memory of the heat of her skin on them. My fucking dick still stirs in my jeans at the mere thought of being the first man inside her. Any guilt I might feel over the way I did it is overshadowed by the desire to do it again.
This time harder. Rougher.
“Fuck, Luca. Answer me!”
I turn to the phone in my hand and am almost surprised to see it. Shit. I’d completely forgotten Uncle Ray.
“What?” I fume, annoyed with the fact that my concentration has been so thoroughly fucked.
“Where the fuck are you?” he demands. “Have you heard a word I’ve said?”
I’d like to say I have, but it would be a lie. “I’m sorry, Uncle. The connection was bad.”
“Connection my ass. What the fuck is going on with you?”
Blowing out a long breath, I adjust myself and shift in the seat that wasn’t made for a six-foot-four man. “Please tell me again. I’m listening now.”
Uncle Ray grumbles something I can’t quite make out but that I’m sure was offensive. “Gianni is dead.”
Joaquin Gianni is dead? While the thought of that fucker finally erased off the face of the planet should make me smile, something tells me not to start celebrating yet.
“What happened?” I ask.
“He was found with a broken neck, floating in his marina. Naked. Apparently, evidence was found on his yacht that he’d been with someone.”
