Chapter 31 THIS MAN.
\~~~RAINA.
He is standing so close to me, and God… I actually cannot breathe.
My throat went dry the moment he stepped into my space, like the air itself ran out. And his cologne, Jesus, why does it smell like trouble wrapped in something forbidden? I have never been affected by a scent before, not like this. Never enough to make my knees feel weak and my brain to stop working.
This man…
This tall man, larger than life itself, is driving me insane.
And I hate him for it.
I hate this entire moment.
I hate the way my body reacts without my permission.
His hand moves slowly and deliberately.
Then his fingers curl around my neck.
My breath stutters not from fear but from something far, far worse.
Because the shameful, and disgusting truth is that a small part of me…
A dark, stupid part of me wants him to squeeze harder.
God.
What is wrong with me?
I don’t like violence.
I never have.
Not in relationships, not in friendships, not anywhere. I am the girl who avoids chaos, who avoids anything that hurts and that is who I have always been.
But right now?
With his hand around my throat, his body heat sinking into my skin, and his eyes watching every reaction I make like he owns it?
Right now, I think I might need a therapist.
Because why… Why the hell am I enjoying this?
Why does it feel like my body knows something my mind refuses to accept?
Why does it feel like I have just stepped into a version of myself I didn’t even know existed?
And why…
Why is it him bringing it out of me?
“You were saying, Solnishko?”
Luciano’s voice dragged me straight out of my spiralling thoughts.
I blinked hard and sniffed, trying to pull myself together before I embarrassed myself further.
“How about we have this conversation in a more rational position?” I whispered, hating how soft I sounded.
“Why?” he murmured, his head tilting slightly as his fingers traced the small of my back slow, light, and intentional.
“Does this bother you?”
Bother me?
He knows exactly what he is doing.
No one can convince me otherwise.
He is provoking me on purpose, and the worst part?
He thinks I am easy to rattle.
He doesn’t know who I am.
I am a very strong…
A sound slipped out of me.
A moan.
A very soft, and humiliating moan that I didn’t approve, didn’t control, and didn’t even expect.
My eyes flew open in horror.
Did I…
Oh, God.
Oh God, I did.
My hand shot to my mouth, but it was already too late.
Luciano stopped, his other hand still wrapped around my neck.
Then slowly…painfully slowly, his lips curved into the most satisfied, wicked smirk I have ever seen in my life.
“Oh, baby girl,” he whispered, his breath hot against my face, warm enough to fog up every sane thought in my head.
“Let go… of me,” I forced out between clenched teeth.
“Why?” His fingers pressed lightly at my waist. “Is there something going on down there that I’m not aware of?”
Yes, you sick, motherfucking psychopath.
Yes, I feel damp down there.
Yes, my thighs are shaking.
Yes, I want to touch myself so badly I might actually pass out!
But instead of saying that, I snapped, “Screw you.”
“Tell me, baby,” he murmured. “Talk to me, wifey. Tell me what it is that you want.”
“I want you…”
God.
The words almost slipped out.
If I actually said what was spinning in my head, the earth would crack open and drag me straight into hell.
“I want you… to stay the fuck away from me.”
Luciano chuckled low, and quietly like he was amused by a child throwing a tantrum.
“Do you love to punish yourself that much?” he whispered.
“Your whole body is tense… and yes, sunshine, I can smell your arousal.”
My throat closed up instantly.
I swallowed so hard that it hurt, but nothing helped.
My breath came out shaky, and embarrassing.
He noticed.
Of course he did.
Luciano’s fingers slid up the back of my neck slowly, gently, almost comforting, and somehow even worse.
“Look at me,” he said.
I didn’t.
Oh, I couldn’t.
“Talia.” His voice dropped deeper. “Look at me.”
Against my better judgment, my eyes rose painfully slowly, until they met his.
And God.
He looked like he already owned every thought in my head.
“Good girl,” he whispered.
My knees almost buckled.
I. Want. This. Man.
Very and absolutely sexually.