Page 19

VALENTINA

T he silk ties bite gently into my wrists, holding them firmly above my head.

I can feel the cool fabric against my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat radiating from his body as he hovers over me.

My chest rises and falls in shallow breaths, my body trembling under his gaze.

He looks at me like I’m his entire world, his lips curling into that dark, wicked smile that sends shivers down my spine.

His fingers trace a slow path down my arms, over my shoulders, until they skim across my breasts. I arch into his touch, desperate for more, but he’s maddeningly slow, teasing me with every light graze of his fingertips.

“You’re stunning like this,” he murmurs, his voice a deep rumble that makes my pulse race. His eyes burn into mine, dark and unrelenting, and I can’t look away. My lips part, a soft whimper slipping out as his hands explore me, possessive and sure.

Every nerve in my body feels alive, every touch, every brush of his fingers igniting me further. When he leans down, his breath hot against my neck, I feel my heart stutter. His lips trail feather-light kisses along my collarbone, his teeth grazing just enough to leave me breathless.

I tug against the silk ties, needing to touch him, to pull him closer, but I’m helpless, completely at his mercy. The thought only makes the ache between my thighs more intense, my body arching toward him in a silent plea.

“Patience, Valentina,” he whispers against my skin, his voice laced with command and promise. “You’ll get everything you want. But only when I decide to give it to you.”

The words send a fresh wave of heat through me, and I whimper again, my thighs pressing together in a vain attempt to find relief.

He chuckles softly, the sound dark and knowing, before his hands slide lower, spreading my legs open, exposing me completely.

I tremble beneath him, my body burning as his lips travel lower, his kisses growing hungrier, more deliberate.

When his mouth finally finds me, I gasp, my head falling back against the chaise.

His tongue moves with devastating precision, slow and deliberate, teasing me until my hips buck against him.

He grips my thighs, holding me still as he devours me, every flick of his tongue and pull of his lips sending shockwaves through my body.

I’m lost, my breath coming in ragged gasps, my moans filling the room.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, pushing me higher and higher until I feel myself teetering on the edge.

My body tightens, my cries turning desperate as I beg for release, and when it finally crashes over me, I scream his name, my body shaking as wave after wave of pleasure consumes me.

But he doesn’t stop. Not yet. His mouth and hands continue their relentless assault, drawing out every last tremor until I’m a trembling, panting mess beneath him. When he finally pulls back, his lips glistening, his eyes meet mine, and the hunger there steals what little breath I have left.

“We’re not done, Valentina,” he says, his voice low and full of promise. “Not even close.”

My wrists fall free as the silk ties slip away, the sudden release making my arms tingle.

Before I can fully process it, he’s on me, his hands rougher now, gripping my hips and flipping me over onto my stomach with ease.

The movement steals my breath, but it’s nothing compared to the way he presses against me, his heat radiating through every nerve in my body.

“Spread your legs,” he growls, his voice dark and commanding.

There’s no hesitation as I obey, my body already burning with anticipation.

His hand presses into the small of my back, arching me perfectly for him.

The head of his cock brushes against me, teasing, making me gasp as my body aches for more.

And then, he’s inside me—thick, unrelenting, stretching me inch by inch until he’s buried so deep I swear I can feel him everywhere. A ragged cry escapes me, my fingers clutching and grasping as he pulls out almost completely, only to thrust back in harder, deeper, until I’m seeing stars.

His pace is relentless, each stroke deliberate and devastating, dragging along every sensitive inch inside of me.

My body tightens around him, clenching as waves of pleasure ripple through me, but he doesn’t stop.

His hand fists in my hair, pulling my head back just enough to hear every moan, every desperate sound spilling from my lips.

“You feel that?” he growls, his voice raw. “That’s mine. Every inch of you. Every sound. Every fucking tremor.”

I can barely answer, my words lost in the haze of sensation as he takes me, each thrust pushing me higher, closer to the edge of madness. His hands are everywhere, gripping my hips, sliding up my waist, claiming me completely as he drives into me with an intensity that leaves me trembling.

I’m unraveling beneath him, my body caught between pleasure and surrender. The friction, the pressure, the way his cock hits places I didn’t even know existed—it’s too much, and yet I need more. My moans grow louder, the sounds unrestrained as my release builds, threatening to consume me.

“Come for me,” he demands, his voice thick with lust. His hand slips between my legs, his fingers finding that sensitive spot and circling with ruthless precision.

It’s the final push I need. My climax crashes over me, violent and all-encompassing, leaving me trembling and gasping as my body clenches around him.

He doesn’t give me a chance to recover. His hands slide down my sides, firm and deliberate, before gripping my hips and pulling me back against him. I’m still trembling, my body overly sensitive, but when he shifts, his cock still hard inside me, I gasp at the intensity of the sensation.

“You thought I was done with you?” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “I’m not letting you go until I’ve had every last piece of you.”

I don’t have time to respond before he moves again, pulling out almost completely before thrusting back in, deeper, slower this time, like he’s savoring me.

The angle is different, sharper, and it’s perfect, sending a jolt of pleasure through me that has me crying out, my fingers clutching the sheets.

My body is still sensitive from the first climax, but he doesn’t care.

He wants more. And I can feel it in the way he touches me, in the relentless rhythm of his thrusts.

His hand slides between my thighs again, finding that aching spot with devastating accuracy.

His fingers move in perfect time with his hips, every circle and stroke pushing me higher and higher until I can’t think, can’t breathe.

My body arches into him, desperate and helpless as the pleasure builds to an unbearable peak.

“You’re going to come again,” he growls, his voice thick and commanding. “I can feel it. Don’t hold back.”

I can’t. My body is no longer my own, every nerve alight, every touch sending me spiraling further.

His fingers press harder, his cock driving into me with an unrelenting pace, and I shatter.

The orgasm tears through me, ripping me apart in the most exquisite way, my cries filling the room as my body clenches around him, holding him tightly.

He groans, low and primal, his thrusts slowing but growing deeper, more deliberate, drawing out every last tremor until I’m utterly spent.

But he doesn’t stop. His thrusts grow erratic, harder, deeper, as he chases his own release. When he finally lets go, a guttural groan escapes him, and I feel the hot rush of him inside me, the weight of his body pressing me into the bed as we both collapse, spent and utterly wrecked.

For a moment, there’s only the sound of our breathing, ragged and uneven, the heat between us still burning. His arms wrap around me, pulling me close, his lips brushing against my shoulder in a soft, almost reverent kiss.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, and I can feel the truth of it in every inch of my body.

Do I still want to run? How can I run from this, from him?

I can’t speak, but I’m faintly aware of him picking me up in his strong arms and carrying me to the bedroom, quiet and wrapped in shadows and soft, flickering light from the fireplace. He lays me down on the soft bed.

My body aches, deliciously so. There’s so much I want to say, but I don’t. Instead, I stroke his chest and let him fiddle with my hair until he falls asleep. I could run right now.

And yet, I lie here, staring at the man who now sleeps beside me, my heart a tangle of emotions I can’t begin to unravel.

Luca Salvatore, the untouchable, the unstoppable, the king of this shadowy world, looks utterly human in sleep.

The hard lines of his face soften in repose, the faint crease between his brows disappearing as his breathing slows, deep and steady.

His lashes, absurdly long for someone so fierce, fan against his cheekbones, casting delicate shadows.

How is it possible for him to look like this? Like a man who could just as easily protect me as destroy me?

My chest tightens painfully, and I press a hand there, as if I can will my heart to beat normally.

I should hate him. I should .

He’s made me a pawn, trapping me in a world I wanted no part of, forcing me to play a game where the stakes are life and death. Yet, when he holds me, whispers in my ear with that rough voice, when he kisses me like I’m the only thing keeping him alive...I don’t feel like a pawn.

I feel like his queen.

The thought terrifies me.

I shift slightly, careful not to wake him, and prop myself up on one elbow.

The blanket has slipped down to his waist, revealing the hard planes of his chest, the scars etched into his skin telling stories I’ll probably never fully understand.

My fingers itch to trace them, to learn the language of his pain and triumph.

I shouldn’t be staring at him like this. I shouldn’t care how the firelight gilds his skin or how the faintest hint of vulnerability clings to him in sleep. But I do.,I drag my gaze away and force myself to breathe. I need clarity. I need to remember why I can’t afford to fall for him.

My phone buzzes on the nightstand, the screen lighting up like a flare in the dark. My stomach drops as I reach for it, my fingers trembling slightly.

It’s from Sofia. My throat tightens as I read the message.

The plan is in place, if you’re still thinking about it.

The attachment is a screenshot of the forged documents—a new name, a new life waiting for me somewhere far from here.

My chest constricts as I glance back at Luca.

He stirs slightly, the faintest crease returning to his brow, as if even in sleep, he senses my turmoil.

How am I supposed to run from this? From him?

I press a hand to my mouth, muffling the sob that threatens to escape. I can’t do this. I can’t .

The rational part of me—the part that remembers every threat he’s made, every moment I’ve felt like a prisoner in this gilded cage—tells me to take Sofia’s plan and run.

To escape while I still can. But another part, the part I hate for being so foolish, reminds me of the way he looked at me tonight, the way his touch made me feel like I wasn’t just surviving but living, even if only for a moment.

My thumb hovers over the screen, debating whether to respond to Sofia. I glance at Luca again, my gaze lingering on the curve of his jaw, the slight curl of his lips, the steady rise and fall of his chest.

He looks so…peaceful.

And in that moment, I hate Sofia for being so good to me, because she’s given me an option that I don’t know if I should take. If I run, there’s no coming back.

I look at the message again, the tightness in my chest growing unbearable. The plan is perfect. The window to escape will be small but doable. Sofia’s thought of everything, down to the last detail.

But none of that matters if I can’t bring myself to leave. Another buzz draws my attention to the phone.

Valentina, we don’t have time for second thoughts.

I swallow hard, my throat dry.

Luca shifts again, a soft groan slipping past his lips as he turns slightly toward me. For a moment, I freeze, terrified that he’s waking. But his breathing evens out again, and the tension in my body eases just a fraction.

My hand hovers over the screen, the weight of the decision pressing down on me like a stone.

Freedom—or Luca.

The choice should be easy. But as I watch him sleep, so unguarded, so achingly human, I realize it’s anything but.

The screen fades to black.