Chapter 20 SINFULLY SHIRTLESS.
\~~~RAINA.
It feels as if he suddenly takes pity on me.
No, Luciano Moretti is not a man who pities anyone.
It is more like the universe itself whispers something in his ear…
Or maybe the sight of my naked body disgusts him.
He lets his gaze drag over me one last time, slow, unreadable, and lingering in a way that burns more than the humiliation before he steps back.
One step and then another.
“You should go freshen up, sunshine,” he says quietly, turning away already.
And then he walks out.
For a moment, I stand frozen exactly where he leaves me, staring at the doorway and trying to make sense of what is happening. Why didn't he touch me? Why did he stop? Why did he suddenly pull away when he has every opportunity to do whatever he wants?
I should be grateful he didn't choose to do any of those filthy, terrifying things… right?
So why do I feel disappointed instead?
God. What is happening to me?
I press a hand to my forehead, grab a towel from the rack, fold my dress with shaky fingers, and then step out of the closet.
Under the shower, with cold water pouring down my skin, I close my eyes, hoping it will wash away the heat still coiling inside me.
It doesn’t.
Slowly, so slowly it feels accidental, my hands drift upward. My fingers brush my breasts, cupping them gently, and a soft moan slips from my lips.
Luciano is not the only one who is sick in this house.
I am just as bad.
Because why the hell am I touching myself with his face stamped right across my mind?
I almost didn't stop there.
My finger is already sliding downward… down there, like it has a mind of its own.
“Shit!” I yelp, jerking away from the water like it burns me.
Wrapping my towel around myself in record speed, I rush out of the bathroom… but then freeze mid-step.
Luciano was sitting on the edge of the bed, shirtless.
Perfectly, sinfully shirtless.
I swear those abs are carved and not built. They look sculpted by gods who had nothing better to do. The lines are so sharp that I actually feel an urge to trace them with my fingertips… slowly.
He lifts one hip slightly, adjusting his posture, and my breath catches.
God.
I want to sit on him.
No… NO!
Not like that.
My legs are tired, I want to sit on the floor.
Yes. On the floor. Very far away from him. Preferably in another country.
“You look like you are fighting a whole battle in your head,” Luciano’s voice cuts through my mental meltdown.
I drag my gaze up to meet him and he is staring at me hard. Too hard.
And for the first time, I have to admit it.
This sick, dangerous asshole… is painfully handsome.
His dark hair, now tousled in a way that should be illegal on a man who already looks like this…
God. It makes him look like he has just rolled out of bed after ruining someone.
And then… his face.
His jaw is sharp enough to slice through every logical thought I have left. His cheekbones could cut glass. His lashes are long, dark, and irritatingly perfect, and his shadowed eyes are fixed entirely on me.
His lips…
Oh, God, his lips.
Soft-looking.
Pink too.
A little thin, but in that dangerous, refined way that makes them look precise, like they know exactly where to touch, where to bite.
I shouldn’t be thinking any of this.
I should not be imagining leaning forward just to taste the corner of his mouth, just to see if they’re as warm and soft as they look.
But my stupid brain is doing it anyway.
Those lips look like they would feel cold at first, then warm instantly.
Like I’d lean in for a peck and accidentally end up moaning against them.
Like once I taste them, I won’t stop.
Like they would leave marks on my skin without even trying.
God, I hate him.
God, I want him.
He tilts his head slightly, studying me like he can hear every depraved thought screaming in my skull.
And honestly?
At this point, I think he can.
“When you are done battling whatever dark thoughts that are eating your brain, go get dressed. We are having dinner.” Luciano’s voice is smooth, almost lazy.
“I… I don’t have any dark thoughts!” I choke, coughing so hard it feels like God personally smacks me.
I bolt into the closet, grab the first pajamas my hand touches, and yank them on like I’m fleeing a crime scene.
When I step back into the bedroom, Luciano is already dressed in his simple polo, dark pants and nothing dramatic, yet he still looks like sin sculpted into human form.
Is there anything this man doesn’t look good in?
He is…
Oh, you little slut, that is your sister’s man.
He is technically my husband, yes… but he still belongs to Talia first.
Luciano takes a slow step toward me. Instinctively, I step back but he is faster. His hand wraps around my neck before I even inhale.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
“What have I told you about dressing like this anywhere outside this room?”
“Luciano, it is pajamas. Pajamas,” I hissed. “Normal humans wear them around the house.”
“And you wear them. To bed.” His grip tightens slightly, warm and possessive.
“I can move around in them too.”
His jaw flexes and his fingers tighten around the sides of my neck and I shut my eyes for a second, overwhelmed.
“Not,” he says, voice dropping into a dangerous growl, “when your nipples are poking through that flimsy material.”
“It still… doesn’t matter.” Embarrassment crawls onto my cheeks.
“It does. I have workers. I have…”
“Why?” My lips curl into a smirk I absolutely should not be wearing. “Are you jealous they might start drooling over me?”
“No one dares to.” His reply is instant, sharp. His breath fans my cheek, hot and irritated.
“But how sure are you?”
“They’re human, regardless. Their dicks can get hard at the sight of breasts. They can definitely lust over…”
I don’t even finish before his hand clamps tighter, so tight my breath stutters.
“You talk too much, solnishko,” he growls, his lips grazing the edge of my cheek, almost touching skin.
“You’re… you’re chok… choking me,” I gasp, tapping his forearm.
“I would kill any man who dares to lust over you,” he murmurs, his grip firming on my neck. “First, I’d cut off his dick, roast it, and make him eat it. Then I’ll kill him slowly, so slowly that he begs for death.”
His lips brush my cheek, barely there.
“And you?” His voice drops to a sinful whisper. “I would remind you exactly who you belong to. I will fuck you in every hole you have until you break beneath me. And maybe… just maybe then I will stop.”