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He tipped his head at the fruit plate. “Start with the grapes.”
“I want to poke your eyes out with a knife and shove them down your throat.”
Annoyed, I lifted a bushel of grapes in my hand, knowing he would only become more of a thorn in my side if I fought him. It was breakfast. Whatever, I could pop a few grapes into his mouth and send his miserable ass on his way.
Luca buttered a piece of toast. I plucked a grape from the vine and pinched it between my fingers. He opened his mouth, licking my skin as I dropped the grape onto his tongue. His touch sent a bolt of electricity up my arm.
I continued the charade until Luca licked my fingers clean. He hooked his arm around my back. As I reached for the plate of eggs, my shirt rode up my stomach. Luca slipped his hand beneath the fabric.
I knocked his hand away.
Luca moved the plates toward the center of the table, sending silverware crashing to the floor. He raised his hand to dismiss a servant who attempted to clean up after him, exiting the room in a hurry. Clutching my hips, Luca lifted me and dropped me onto the table in front of him, spreading my thighs apart with his hands. The legs of his chair slid across the tile as he moved between my thighs.
“Luca, what are you doing?”
Ignoring my question, he pushed me down on the table until I was flat on my back, chest heaving with a mixture of fear and desire. He shoved my skirt up to my thighs, kissing his way up to my throbbing core. His eyes met mine as he breathed over the top of my lace panties.
“Luca,” I moaned. “This is so inappropriate.”
He released a wicked laugh. “I’ll tell you what’s appropriate, Queen D.”
I rolled my head to the side and caught Bastian staring at me. Mortified, I turned away and found Damian focused on me. He licked his lips, heat flickering in his deep brown irises. Luca tugged on the strings of my panties, inching them down with all of his brothers watching us. Marcello looked as if he weren’t breathing behind the coffee mug in front of his mouth.
I attempted to sit up, and Luca pushed me back down. “Are you mine, Drea? This is your last chance. You know how much I hate waiting.”
His eyes glimmered with rage and something else, an emotion I could not place. Last night, he was fine. Today, he was out of control. What happened from when my head hit the pillow until now?
He slid two fingers inside me, and I gasped from the sudden pressure. “You can pretend I disgust you, but we both know you’re always wet for me.” Luca thrust harder, making me cryout as his fingers rubbed my inner walls. “Even when you can’t stand the sight of me, your pussy craves me.”
Luca held me down on the table with his big hand and sucked on my clit. My legs trembled as he licked me like I was his meal. I should have pushed him away, but it felt too good to make him stop.
Bastian rested his elbows on the table. His suit jacket slid up his arms, revealing his tattooed arms as he leaned forward. “Spread your legs wider,” he growled with a wicked look in his eyes.
As I felt all their eyes on us, a wave of excitement shot down my arms. My cheeks heated, the warmth spreading to my chest and swirling around in my stomach. I leaned back on my elbows and watched Luca work his magic between my thighs.
Luca stopped abruptly, his eyes on me. “Give me an answer.”
I kicked his chest with my heel. “Asshole, I was about to come.”
He cupped my sex. “You better remember this belongs to me while I’m gone. Mine, you got that?” He shot up from his chair, his cock so hard it looked like it was about to poke a hole through his pants. “Say it, Drea.”
“Why?” I fixed my panties and skirt and slid off the table. “I already told my grandfather I chose you.”
He gave me a satisfied smile and pressed his lips to mine. I tasted myself on him as he palmed the back of my head. He kissed me like he wanted to fuck me on the table, and after what he’d just done, it wouldn’t have mattered. Our lips separated after a heated battle of wills, our tongues warring against each other.
“I want a real proposal,” I told him. “Get down on your knees and beg me to marry you.”
Luca lifted me off the table and lowered us into his chair, holding my back against his chest. “If that’s what you want…”
I nodded. “And don’t fuck it up this time.”
The butler popped his head into the room, his eyes on Luca as he cleared his throat. “Mr. Salvatore, Miss Laveau is here to see you.”
My jaw dropped. “As in Madeline Laveau?”
“Eat your toast,” Luca said with a bite to his tone. “You don’t want to be late for your appointment with the new director of the Franco Foundation.”
Give her dreams.