Lena's POV: The hours melted into one another, each one as empty and silent as the last. I was a prisoner in Luca’s room, scrolling through my phone, the silence in the room deafening. It was beyond frustrating. The mansion was a fortress, a sprawling labyrinth of secrets and wealth that I was ill-equipped to navigate. Luca and Marco were the only two people I knew in this entire city, and my family back in New York… well, let’s just say I wasn’t exactly eager to reach out to them right now or ever really..... It was mid-day, and my stomach rumbled in protest. I craved pizza, a greasy, cheesy pepperoni filled slice that would make me feel a little less lost. But even ordering food felt like a gamble. With all the security, I wasn't sure if my pizza would even make it through the gate. The thought was both absurd and terrifying. I didn't even know where we were, the mansion alone was like a hideout. I settled back onto the bed, my stomach grumbling. I was exhausted, the constant
"Get on the bed," he said, his voice low and husky. "Get on all fours." I obeyed, my body trembling as I obeyed, my back arching. He disappeared into the closet. I waited, my mind racing, my body trembling. He came back a moment later, carrying a leash, a dildo, a candle, a belt, and a pair of handcuffs. The red lingerie felt like a second skin against my heated flesh, and Luca's gaze seemed to burn through the delicate fabric. He reached for the straps, his fingers brushing against my skin. I felt a shiver run through me as he pulled the straps down, the silky fabric sliding across my skin, the sound echoing in the quiet room. He pulled the lingerie away, revealing the smooth expanse of my skin. His gaze travelled down, his eyes lingering on the delicate lace of the bra. He reached for the hook of my bra, his fingers tracing the curve of my back as he unfastened it. The bra fell away, leaving my breasts exposed, their plumpness and fullness fully in view. His eyes darkened a
The underside of his shaft pressed between my pussy lips and clit, the rough texture of his skin against my sensitive flesh. I was already so fucking wet, throbbing with need, the anticipation of his touch making me ache. "Now princess," he growled, his voice a low rumble, "I'm going to take care of you and treat you like my slut. You'll kiss me in this position. I want to see how wet you can get for me, for my cock. And I want to feel it throb between your clit." His words were a symphony of desire and dominance, a promise of pleasure and pain that sent a shiver through me. He grabbed my hair, pulling my head back, and smashed his lips against mine. I was a moaning mess, my body a tangle of need and anticipation. The pressure of his cock against my clit, the feel of his rough hands on my skin, the taste of his mouth on mine, it was all too much. I wanted him inside me, and I wanted him now. I started to grind against him, my hips moving in a frantic rhythm, my pussy seeking the r
Lena's POV We lay there for a long while, tangled together, catching our breath after the wild storm of our passion. My body still hummed with the aftershocks of our climax, every muscle a tender ache. Luca's arm wrapped around me, his touch a comforting weight, pulling me closer to his warmth. He stroked my cheek with a gentle hand, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. A soft smile appeared on his lips, and he murmured something in Italian, "Vorrei che la mamma ti avesse incontranto. Sarebbe stata così orgogliosa di me." A language I didn't understand but whose melody was as sweet as honey. (I wish Mama had met you. She would have been so proud of me). He kissed my forehead, and I giggled, reaching up to pinch his cheeks, biting them playfully. He wore a fake pout, a dramatic expression that made me laugh again. "Ouch, you hurt me, my little princess." He playfully slapped my ass, making me gasp. "I can tell you like that, hmmm my dirty little criceto." His Italian accent t
The grand staircase loomed before me, each step a reminder of the long, exhausting day. My tie hung loose around my neck, a testament to the adrenaline that had coursed through my veins during the emergency meeting with Hernandez. The news was good – we finally had a lead on Dmitri’s whereabouts. But the exhaustion was heavy, a leaden weight settling in my limbs. It was already past midnight, and the silence of the mansion echoed the emptiness I felt inside. I had promised Lena I’d be home earlier, but the meeting had stretched on. To make up for it, I'd stopped by the corner store and grabbed a tub of her favorite cookies and cream ice cream. It wasn't much, but it was a gesture, a way of saying I was sorry for being late. I needed to talk to her. As I entered our room, she was already asleep. Her soft breaths filled the room, a symphony of peace and contentment. The moonlight streamed through the window, bathing her in a soft, ethereal glow. She was so beautiful, so perfect, my
Lena still clung to me, her body a warm, comforting weight against mine. But the tears that streamed down her face, the silent, choked sobs that racked her frame, were a stark contrast to the warmth of her embrace. She didn't say anything, and the silence, thick and heavy, was killing me. I wanted her to scream, to yell, to throw something, anything, to release the pent-up emotions that were consuming her. Anything but this suffocating silence. I felt a tightness in my chest, a constricting band around my heart. The silence was unbearable, each tick of the clock hammering at my sanity. My fingers itched to reach out, to touch her, to offer some comfort, but fear kept me rooted in place. I knew I was walking a tightrope, each step a gamble, and the last thing I wanted was to push her away for good. "Lena," I whispered, my voice rough with desperation. "Talk to me. Say something." She finally looked up at me, her eyes red-rimmed and swollen, reflecting the storm that raged within
"I have something to tell you.” Luca murmured against my ear I looked up at him, my eyes wide and filled with an intensity, I knew he had something to say, we had to talk “Go on,” I whispered softly, my voice reasurring, urgent. "I'm in the mafia" The world seemed to tilt on its axis. The weight of his words settled on my shoulders, heavy and suffocating. A single tear traced a path down my cheek, leaving a cold trail of fear and confusion. "I'm the Don of the Italian mafia," he continued, his voice low and steady, but I felt a tremor run through him. The air thickened with unspoken tension, the only sound the choked sobs that escaped my lips. I clung to him, his warmth the only comfort in the face of the truth that had crashed down upon me. I wanted to stand, to pull away, to escape the suffocating reality, but I couldn't. I needed to feel him close, to feel the warmth of his presence, to hold on to the last vestiges of normalcy. Why the fuck was I crying? Was he okay? Was he
The bed felt cold and empty, the warmth of Luca's body gone. I was alone, abandoned in this dangerous world. Did he really think I was just going to leave him? He’d told me how to get back home, but did he not see the fear in my eyes? The desperate plea for him to stay? Did he truly think I would just walk away from him, from everything that was now unfolding? He was foolish if he thought that, very foolish. I dragged myself out of bed, my head throbbing and my whole body aching. I looked in the mirror and saw my reflection, a perfect embodiment of how I felt- like shit. My eyes were red and swollen, the remnants of a night spent crying myself to sleep.I walked to the bathroom, needing a hot bath. I turned on the water, watching it fill the tub as my mind drifted, replaying the events of the last few hours. When the tub was half full, I climbed in, the warmth of the water a welcome relief to my aching body. My muscles relaxed, the tension easing from my shoulders, but my heart rem