Chapter 63 FEELING HIM
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ADELINE
I laid sprawled on the bed, my fingers idly tracing the soft fabric of the sheets as my mind refused to rest. No matter how much I tried to distract myself, no matter how many deep breaths I took, I couldn’t escape him.
Luciano.
His name alone sent a shiver down my spine, and the mere thought of him had me body betraying me.
I had needs and I wanted him. I hated that how much of an effect he had on me. My mind was occupied by him and my body …… craved him and it messed me.
I could see him so clearly in my mind—those piercing blue eyes that always seemed to look straight through me, the sharp cut of his jaw, the way his muscles flexed beneath his crisp shirts, his powerful presence that both terrified and consumed me.
I had spent so long fighting for his love, so long yearning for even the smallest sliver of his affection. And now, even after everything that had happened, even after all the lies and betrayals, …… I still wanted him.
My breath hitched as a slow, burning heat curled low in my belly, my body growing restless beneath the weight of my desire.
I exhaled shakily, closing my eyes as I let my hands wander over my own body.
Maybe this was wrong. Maybe I should fight it.
But I didn’t want to fight it.
A soft whimper escaped my lips as I tugged at the buttons of my shirt, my fingers trembling slightly as I undid them one by one. With each button undone, more of my flushed skin was exposed to the cool air, sending a delicious shiver through me.
I let the fabric slide off my shoulders, leaving my bare save for the thin lace of my panties. My nipples hardened instantly as I trailed my fingers over the curve of my breast, teasing myself, imagining it was his hands instead of my own.
I shifted on the bed, my thighs pressing together as the ache between them grew unbearable.
With a slow, deliberate motion, I slid my hand down my stomach, my fingers ghosting over the waistband of my panties.
A deep, shuddering breath left me as I pushed the fabric aside, my fingers grazing the soft, wet heat that had already gathered there.
A quiet gasp escaped my lips as I touched myself, my body arching slightly at the sensation.
My mind swirled with images—Luciano’s strong hands gripping my hips, his mouth against my skin, his breath hot against my neck as he whispered things that would leave me trembling.
I bit my lip, my fingers moving in slow, teasing circles over my clit, sending jolts of pleasure through me.
I gasped and imagined him there, imagined the weight of his body pressing me into the mattress, imagined the way he would growl my name in that deep, commanding voice.
My hips bucked instinctively as I applied more pressure, my other hand sliding up to my breast, fingers rolling over my hardened nipple. A deep moan slipped past my lips, my body desperate for more.
The pleasure built slowly, deliciously, my body winding tighter and tighter with every stroke, every fantasy.
I spread her legs wider, giving myself more access, my fingers sliding lower, pressing inside.
The stretch made me whimper, my body trembling as I imagined it was him filling me instead, his hands pinning me down, his lips claiming mine in a way that left no room for doubt—I was his.
My breath came in soft, shaky pants as I moved faster, chasing the pleasure that was so close, so unbearably close.
I arched off the bed as the tension inside me snapped, pleasure crashing over me in hot, pulsing waves.
A strangled moan escaped my lips, my body trembling as I rode out the aftershocks, my fingers still lazily stroking myself, drawing out every last bit of sensation.
For a long moment, I laid there, utterly spent, my skin damp with sweat, my limbs weak and heavy. I was worn out, breathing heavily, catching my breath.
But as the haze of pleasure faded, a deep, aching emptiness crept in.
Because no matter how good it felt, no matter how vividly I imagined him—
It would never compare to the real thing.
But will there be any real thing anymore?
I clenched my fists, my jaw tightening as frustration burned inside me. How could he still have this power over me? After everything—after all the lies, the betrayals, the heartbreak—how could she still crave him like this? It wasn’t fair.
It wasn’t fair.
How could I still imagine him? HOW COULD I?
With a sharp inhale, I pushed myself off the bed and stalked toward the mirror, my bare feet pressing against the cool floor.
My eyes locked onto my reflection, and a wave of self-loathing crashed over me. I looked vulnerable. Exposed. Weak. My naked body made me realize that I was …… sick. Still craving the man who killed my family. Whose family killed me and my brother.
And it made me sick.
Tears welled in my eyes, hot and unrelenting, spilling over as I let out a choked sob. My breathing grew ragged as anger built inside me, curling around my ribs like a vice.
Luciano had ruined me.
I let out a scream, raw and broken, as rage overtook me.
My hands flew to the nearest object—a glass vase sitting atop the dresser—and without thinking, I gripped it tightly and hurled it at the mirror with all the strength I had left in me.
The sound of shattering glass filled the room, fragments of the mirror cascading onto the floor like fallen stars.
The sharp cracks in the reflection distorted my image, twisting it into something unrecognizable—something just as broken as I felt inside.
My chest heaved as I stood there, my hands trembling, my vision blurred by tears. I could see her reflection now in a hundred shattered pieces, each one reflecting a different version of myself—one filled with pain, one filled with anger, one filled with longing.
I hated all of them.
“Damn you, Luciano,” I whispered, my voice trembling, my fingers curling into fists at my sides.
“Damn you for doing this to me.”
A sob tore from my throat as I sank to my knees, my body wracked with emotion. I felt like I was unraveling, like every piece of me was slowly slipping away, and I didn’t know how to put myself back together.
Because no matter how much I screamed, no matter how much I broke, no matter how hard I tried—
Luciano still owned me.
And that was the worst part of all.