Luca’s hand pulls away from my chin, and he takes my glass, putting it on the table.
“How I see it is you need to stop assuming the worst and trust me to care for you, and the only way for us to do that is to make sure you get what you need, over and over, until you take it for granted.”
He’s talking about more than just sex, even though I love the “over and over” part. I didn’t trust him; I prolonged this moment as much as his stubbornness did. But I did it by way of mistrust, assuming he wouldn’t do what we both needed.
“So, you want to teach me a lesson in trust?”
The desire in my voice gives away my readiness.
He nods.
“I paid a helluva price almost losing you. What price should you pay for not trusting me? Huh?”
The tumbler he’s holding runs up my leg, and I can feel the coolness through my jeans. Luca leans close to my cheek and whispers, “Choose your fate. Do you want to be fucked or loved, Angel?”
I close my eyes, knowing they aren’t mutually exclusive, but for us, they have very specific meanings. He knows I need the connection between us, the aggression and anger we’ve both felt to play about in the sheets.
His breath is warm against my skin as he keeps whispering.
“Maybe we play your favorite game, Angel. I’ll hunt you…here.”
He brings the glass between my legs and runs it up, rolling it over where my clit is throbbing. My breath hitches.
“Do you trust me?” he asks seductively.
He sets his drink down and begins to gather my T-shirt, tugging it up.
I look around, worried about being caught.
“Luca, someone could catch us. The wall is all glass.”
The minute I say it, I know I failed my lesson. Luca doesn’t stop or change expression as he pulls my shirt up and over my head, leaving me exposed in just my bra.
“Take them off, or I will,” he directs in his deep gravel, indicating my jeans.
I’m not a submissive girl. But when he does this, gets sexually dominant, I feel understood. I’m a powerful woman, and I need a man who can handle me, break me, and make me feel devoured. Luca was made for me. He crosses his arms over his chest.
“The longer I wait, the longer you wait to come. Get ’em off,” he growls. Holy hell, I’m wet. Rough Luca is my favorite Luca.
I reach slowly for my button and pull it open, challenging his patience by lowering the zipper only a fraction.
“You know, I’m not wearing underwear,” I lie.
The thought of being fucked out here where someone could catch us makes me nervous, even if I’m supposed to trust him.
“When I pull off these jeans, everyone will see what’s yours…you sure you want to share?” My voice is a purr, and he bites his lip, gripping his bulge.
I know I’ve won. No fucking way is he willing to share me with prying eyes.
Right as I feel victorious, Luca shakes his head and says, “So fucking stubborn,” then grabs me by the waistband of my jeans and jerks me forward.
“Luca!” I yelp and laugh.
He pushes his hand down the front of my jeans, and I gasp, silenced. Grabbing my tiny lace G-string, along with the few hairs I have down below, he tugs me closer, and the sensation makes my pussy slick with need.
My back arches from being pulled forward.
“Little liar,” he whispers knowingly, and I whimper.
Pleasure grips my body as his hold tightens.
“You definitely need a lesson in trust. Maybe I’ll take it out on your ass or maybe in your ass. Here’s the game, baby: I catch you, I pick.”
His hand retreats as he takes a step away from me.
I’m breathless. My entire body is on fire. This man speaks to every filthy fucking piece of me.
“What’s the second choice? What if you don’t catch me?” I ask hungrily.
A slow smile grows on his gorgeous face. Luca takes out his phone from his pocket and presses a button, laughing to himself.
The light that glowed from inside the house begins to fade as heavy black shades roll down, and I hear a click as the door locks. He was never going to let me be seen.
But now, I’m on my own.
Pick A Genre 