This beautiful, terrifying man is the perfect combination of cruelty and kindness - quite aware that his cock is hurting me, but holding himself still - muscled arms shaking with the effort, to let my strained body stretch to accommodate him.
"Such a sweet girl," he whispered, hot breath on my skin and making me shudder, "let me in, now. Open wide." Grunting approvingly at the sudden, shocking amount of slick inside me, he began moving his hips, pushing, and pulling with some force and effort still as my body struggled to hold him.
Finally, he adjusts by going back onto his heels and pulling me up to straddle him. Circling his hips as his big hands went to my ass and squeeze, he smiled devilishly. "I'm going to rip you in half, baby. And you're going to thank me for it. Are you ready?"
A sharp scream flies from my mouth as Lucca drives his hard shaft up so high that I choke, he’s deep enough inside me that I have no room left for breath. He slows a bit, squeezing the globes of my ass as he hoists me up and down on his cock, grunting each time he bottoms out inside me.
Wrapping both arms around his shoulders, I try to hang on as he continues driving inside me, the sweat from us both slipping against our skin as he moves those cruelly agile hips faster. I can feel that ring of metal rubbing me inside and it feels like a series of electric sparks, my nerves firing with each pass. My nipples are wildly oversensitive from rubbing against the hair on his chest and finally, I bite into the thick muscle of his shoulder, trying not to scream.
He laughs breathlessly against the pain of my bite. "You're going to come now, you juicy, dirty, girl. Do you hear me? You will come right…" I scream in shock as he lifts and drops me, the head of him slamming into my cervix, sparking off shocks that blaze through me. "The. Fuck. Now."
Each word is punctuated by another harsh thrust and this is so good and I will remember this forever. His scent, the warmth of his skin, the guttural groan he gasps into my ear, and the shocking heat tearing through my sore channel and overheating me into a wild, painful, wonderful orgasm. I scream, just the way he told me I would. I shudder and gasp and he laughs breathlessly as he forces me up and down again, prolonging our finish until I clench so violently that it nearly pushes his cock out of me.
Lucca’s long arms wrap around me tightly, sealing us skin to skin as we mindlessly rock back and forth, faces buried in the other's neck as we ride out the last shudders of our finish.
Lucca…
What the fuck did I just do?
I seem to keep saying that when I’m around Tatiana, but I can’t resist her. I don’t want to, even though I know she’s not meant for me. But I want her. More than I’ve ever wanted anything. Even more than getting back into my family’s good graces.
She’s slumping against me, relaxed and almost boneless. With a final, gentle squeeze I lift her off my cock with a mutual groan. “Relax,” I tell her, laying her against the pillows with a kiss. Discarding the condom in my bathroom, I wet a cloth and bring it back to her. When I touch her with it, her knees slam shut.
“Oh! I’ll just…” That pretty pink flush I love is coloring her cheeks.
“Shh, I’m going to take care of you piccolo bacio. Relax.” Wiping her center gently, I’m uncomfortably aware of the amount of blood there is. I must have been too rough for her first time. “Are you sore?” She covers her face with her hands and I peel them away. “We just had sex. I think you can look me in the eye.”
“I’m fine,” she smiles up at me, still blushing, “a little sore, but it was worth it.”
I finish cleaning her and press a soft kiss to her clitoris. “Here, drink this.” Handing her a bottle of water, I cup her head and watch her finish about a third before she pushes it away.
“What does it mean, piccolo bacio?” Tatiana asks sleepily when I get back in bed with her.
“It means ‘little kiss’.”
“Oh, that’s pretty,” she murmurs, her green-gold eyes are already drooping.
“You had a big day,” I said, turning on my side and pulling her back against me. She unconsciously nestles her ass against my cock and I groan silently, feeling it already rising hopefully again. “Get some sleep.”
“I should go back to my place,” she mumbles, but with a grin, I note she doesn’t move.
“Shh… I’ll walk you back later,” I promise, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. I listen to her deep, slow breaths and try to will my cock to go back down. When she shifts slightly, I see a scar on her back, just under her left shoulder blade. It’s thick and a little puckered, about three inches long. When I touch it lightly with my fingertips, she pulls away, groaning in her sleep. Pressing my chest against her back, I think about that scar and who could have given it to her.
Chapter Fifteen
In which we learn why Lucca is the Invisible Son.
Tatiana…
Waking with a gasp, I don’t need to check the readout on Lucca’s alarm clock to know it is 3:36 a.m.
The time Lev had ripped me out of bed on the night my parents died.
The time that I usually wake from a nightmare now, or some push from my paranoid subconscious.
It’s gotten a little better over the last couple of weeks, due mainly to the exhaustion from Lucca’s ruthless combat training.
Sitting up, careful not to jostle him, I settle against the pillows and enjoy my chance to stare at him like a creep without him catching me. Those thick eyelashes I covet, resting on his sharp, high cheekbones. All the parts of Lucca are sharp and angular, his jawline, his nose, his hard sculpted body, everything but those lashes and his full, soft mouth. I love the way my lips sink into his plush ones. With the white sheet only half covering his gloriously naked body, the parts bared to me are like living art, the moonlight slips over his colorful tattoos like ghostly fingers.
I tiptoe into the bathroom, trying to tidy up a bit before my walk of shame back to my suite.
My walk of shame. Why would that make me smile? It feels like such a normal thing. Something that a girl not raised in a Bratva would do. A girl who can make choices for herself.
His bathroom is spotless, his towels crisply folded, and no soap smears on the granite counter. Opening a drawer, I find his cologne, the scent of cedar, rum, wintergreen, a sharp bite of coffee. Very him, though there’s always something slightly salty in Lucca’s scent, too, like seawater.
Creeping back into the bedroom, I try to dress silently over by his desk. There’s a scatter of framed photos there, a few with Konstantin, and just one of a younger Lucca and a beautiful woman, his mother, I’m guessing. She has a warm smile, exactly like his when he chooses to offer it. She’s hugging him with an arm around his shoulders and he’s leaning away, playfully, like boys do in their early teens when getting embraced by a parent is just so mortifying.
“I look more like my mother,” his voice is deep and a little raspy from sleep. “My other brothers are all the spitting image of my father.” I hear the rustle of sheets as he rises, walking across the room to me, flagrantly naked.
“She’s really beautiful,” I offer, “you have her smile.”
He takes the photo from me, looking down at his mother. “I’m pretty sure my father already considered me a disappointment by the time they died, but she didn’t.”
I’m silent, barely breathing while I listen. The way he speaks… looking down at his mother, long gone except for the echo of her in the photo, I don’t think he’s ever talked about this with anyone else.