Sold to Moretti Mafia

Claire

For a man that insists he isn’t jealous, he sure gets pissed about me talking to other guys or even messaging on my phone. I like it, though. It tells me he cares about me, even if it’s in some morphed, fucked up way.

As the days pass, blurring together, it becomes harder and harder to break Lucca down, but I know that I’m causing a crack in his shield. Each day he seems to watch me with a different kind of heat in his eyes. Tonight, however, I’m done playing games.

Tonight, I’m going to put the last nail in his coffin. I’m going to push him hard, and if he doesn’t break, then I must face the fact that maybe he really doesn’t want me as badly as I want him. It terrifies me to think that he might not, but there is hope that lives inside of me that says he does.

As soon as I hear the shower running, I walk into his bedroom. Rejection from him is something I fear, but I have to try one more time. The courage I need builds as I slip off my clothes, tossing them onto the floor. I’m no longer shy about my body or worried that I’m not good enough for him. I know he wants me.

My nipples become hard peeks when the cool air brushes them, and my core heats, fueled by desire. The countdown to when the shower turns off seems like an eternity.

My heart thunders against my rib cage, threatening to break free from my chest. I’m going to give myself to him, offer him the one thing I’ve given no one else. To catch him off guard like this will be like offering food to a starved animal. I remind myself of his words from the other night, how if he ever hurt me, it would kill him.

Lucca won’t hurt me. He won’t.

The door to the bathroom opens, and steam billows into the bedroom. Lucca walks out with a towel slung over his shoulder. His hair is still soaked, and beads of water glisten on his skin. He looks like a damn god, dangerous and sharp.

“What the fuck are you doing?” His voice is filled with venomous rage, but his eyes darken and flicker with desire that burns as it moves over every inch of exposed skin.

I swallow around the knot in my throat. “I want you.”

He cocks his head to the side. “You want me?”

“Yes, I want you to be my first.”

He’s told me before how things are with him, but I’m not any of the other women he’s been with. I’m different, and he knows that.

The sides of his mouth tick up, but he’s not smiling. It’s like he’s disgusted, but that can’t be right because I know he wants me. Anger takes root in my heart. I will not let him push me away. Not again.

“I know you want me, Lucca. I see it. I feel it. You try to distance yourself, and you lie and say you aren’t jealous, but I know you are. You want this as much as I do. You’re just afraid,” my voice cracks, giving away my emotions, “afraid to feel something for me, afraid to admit the truth.”

A war wages inside of him. I see the battle playing out on his face. He’s grappling for control.

“If I touched you like I want to touch you, you would never forgive me, and I would never forgive myself.”

“You’re a good man, Lucca, and you’ve never hurt me. I trust you.”

A sinister laugh that numbs me to the bone slips from his mouth. “See, that’s the problem. You’re too trusting and too naive for your own good, and I think it’s time I proved to you just how bad I am.”

The light in Lucca’s eyes shuts off, and when he blinks, the man before me is the one that killed my father, the man who murders and kills without care. Like a wounded animal, my first thought is to retreat, but that would do me no good.

If I run, then he will chase, but if I do nothing… I don’t know what will happen. I trust Lucca, but do I trust this side of him?

“Run…” he orders. “Do it. I can see you want to run. To hide. Maybe you don’t trust me with your fragile heart after all?”

Dropping the towel to the floor, he stalks toward me. Fear zings up my back, and a bright neon sign blinks in my mind, warning me, telling me I’ve made a grave mistake, but how will I ever know if I’ve made a mistake if I haven’t even tried?

“I…” my voice trembles, “I trust you, and I still want you.”

He stops directly in front of me, and his chest brushes against mine. He looks down at me, and I crane my neck back to look up at him. Out of the corner of my eye, I see his hand moving toward my breast. With two fingers, he grabs the hardened tip and pinches it, causing a jolt of both pleasure and pain in my abdomen.

Leaning into my good ear, his teeth graze the sensitive skin there before he asks, “Is this what you want, little girl?”

I normally hate when he calls me that, but this seems different. He is using it in a twisted, perverted way, and I don’t know how to process the change. Lucca is not that much older than me. There are only eight years between us, and I’ve always felt much older than I am. The problem is Lucca is also older than his age in many ways.

Life has aged us, turning the handle on our clock faster than the average person’s.

“No. I want more. I want all of you.”

With those words, I set into action events that we can never come back from. Before I can grasp what is going on, Lucca pounces on me, shoving me back against the bed. Confusion gives way to fear when he spreads my legs and centers himself between them. I can feel his throbbing erection, and my want glistens against my folds, but I didn’t want it to happen like this. I didn’t want to be taken by him like all the others before me.

Lifting a hand to his face, I try to get him to look at me, to see me, but he grabs both hands and pins them to the bed above my head. I’m helplessly trapped.

“Is this what you want, Claire?” he hisses through his teeth.

I shake my head, just as tears form in my eyes. He’s holding me down with little effort, and no matter how much I buck against him, it’s like trying to move a brick wall.

“Say it. Tell me you want me to fuck you…” he taunts, throwing my earlier words back at me.

My body reacts with need because physically, I want him as the earth wants the moon, but deep down, this isn’t the man I’ve slowly come to fall in love with.

The head of his cock slips between my folds, and I let out a soft gasp at the sensation. I’m wet, my core slick with need. Even so, I don’t want it to happen this way.

I want my Lucca, not this monster of a man.

“Lucca…” I whimper, preparing to tell him to stop when something in his features snaps and all control is lost. Like a savage beast, he hitches my leg up on his hip and drives into me, stealing the air from my lungs and cracking my heart into a million pieces.

Pain temporarily seizes my body, and my nails dig into his hand hard enough to draw blood. I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I can’t do anything but see him owning me, taking from me.Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

For a millisecond, the darkness in his eyes drains away, and his lips brush against mine. Soft as a feather. Like a gentle breeze.

There is still hope, but like a balloon, it deflates at his next words.

“I warned you. I told you I wasn’t a good man, and you just kept pushing me.” His body visibly shakes, and I can see the effort it takes for him to remain still. “Now, I’ll take everything from you. Now, you’ll never be free of me, butterfly.”

A smile plays on his lips, and he pulls out, slamming back into me, making me feel the pain all over again, making me realize just how wrong I was to trust him.