Chapter 112 The Mafia's Debt (8)

Chapter 112 The Mafia's Debt (8)
Luce
The loud buzz of the vibrator was still ringing in my ears even after he clicked it off. The silence that followed was loud.
I lowered my head, my cheek pressed into the silk sheets. My breathing was ragged. I was done—not just tired. I was completely worn out. Every defense I’d built, every bit of spite I’d used to shield myself from him, had evaporated.
I heard the bed creak as he shifted. He didn’t touch me yet. He was just there, a massive, silent presence hovering behind me. I could feel his eyes on me, tracing the marks he’d left, savoring the wreck he’d made.
I didn’t wait for him to command me. I forced my body to move, despite the ache in my joints and the sharp pull of the nipple clamps. I dragged myself toward him until I was in front of him, right at his knees. My wrists were still bound, my hands useless, but I lowered my head.
“Angelo,” I whispered. My voice sounded distant, even to me.
“Look at me, Luce.”
I lifted my head. My hair was a matted nest around my face, and my eyes were swollen from the tears, but I didn’t look away. I saw the flash of something dark and hungry in his expression—not just lust, but wild desire.
“I’m not fighting you anymore,” I said. The words felt like they weren’t coming from me. “I’m yours. I’m claiming this. I’m claiming you.”
He went still. His hand reached out, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw, moving slowly toward my throat. “You’re surrendering?”
“I’m asking,” I corrected, my voice gaining a sliver of strength. “I want your protection. I want the world to know that I belong to the man who did this to me. I want you to be the only thing that stands between me and everything else.”
I could see the realization hitting him. He had spent days trying to break my spirit, but now that I was handing it to him, he looked almost rattled. He had wanted a broken thing, but as I sat there, battered and naked at his feet, I was the one setting the terms.
“You’re a dangerous little light, Luce,” he muttered. His voice was lower now, thick with an obsession that had my heart racing. “You realize what this means? There is no going back. I will burn every bridge behind you. I will kill anyone who even thinks your name.”
“Then let it burn,” I whispered softly, stealing a glance at him. “Just don’t let go of me.”
A low growl escaped his chest. He reached for my wrists. The metallic click of the restraints opening felt like a gunshot in the quiet room. My hands fell limp into my lap, the blood rushing back into my fingers, making them sting. He moved to the clamps next. He was surprisingly tender, his fingers brushing the reddened nubs of my nipples as he unclipped the silver chain.
The relief was instant, but the cold air on my skin made me shiver.
“Come here,” he commanded.
I didn’t hesitate. I crawled into his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. He was still damp from the shower, smelling of vanilla-scented soap. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his hands gripping my waist so hard it would leave fresh marks by morning.
“You think you’re the one being captured,” he groaned against my skin. “But I’m the one who can’t breathe without you. The thought of you leaving makes me sick.”
In that moment, it hit me—the truth of the emotions I had fought to keep suppressed. “Then we’re both sick,” I whispered.
He pushed me back onto the pillows, but the violence was gone. This wasn’t about the torture or the debt anymore. He moved over me, his weight a welcome pressure. When he kissed me, it wasn’t a punishment. It was a desperate, panting thing. His tongue tangled with mine, tasting the salt of my tears, while I tasted the lingering sweetness from when he’d licked my juices from his fingers.
He discarded his towel and moved between my legs. He didn’t reach for the drawer this time. He didn’t reach for a toy. He grabbed my thighs, hooking them over his shoulders, and looked me dead in the eye.
“Mine,” he rasped.
“Yours,” I choked out.
He entered me in one slow, agonizingly deep thrust. I gasped, my back arching off the bed as he filled the emptiness I’d been feeling all night. It wasn’t the frantic, shallow pace of before, the one he had used with his fingers. It was steady. Each stroke felt like he wanted me to feel every bit of him.
I watched him as he moved. His jaw was set, his brow furrowed in a way that made him look almost pained. He was watching my face, waiting for my eyes to roll back, waiting for the small sounds I made whenever he hit that perfect spot deep inside me. He was obsessed with the way I reacted to him. He wasn’t just taking pleasure; he was worshipping the fact that I was feeling it with him.
“Angelo... please,” I moaned, my hands clutching his damp hair, pulling him down toward me.
“I have you,” he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. “I’ve got you, Luce. Forever.”
The rhythm accelerated. The bed frame groaned under the weight of his thrusts. I felt the heat building, a coil tightening in my lower belly that had nothing to do with the vibrator and everything to do with the man inside me. My heels dug into his back, urging him on.
When the climax hit, it was a total eclipse. I screamed his name into the quiet of the bedroom, my body shaking with a release so violent I thought my heart might stop. He followed a second later, a low, guttural sound tearing from his throat as he collapsed against me, burying his face in my hair.
We stayed like that for a long time. The only sound was the synchronized beating of our hearts and the distant ticking of the clock. My skin was still tender, my ass was still sore, and my heels were still red from the feather, but the war was over.
He eventually rolled off, pulling the heavy duvet over both of us and tucking me into his side. He pulled me toward his chest, pinning me to him.
“Luce?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t ever try to leave again,” he said, his voice already thick with sleep. “I don’t think I’d survive it.”
I closed my eyes, listening to the steady beat of his heart. I had asked for his protection, and I had gotten it. I was in the heart of the storm now, and for the first time in my life, I wasn’t afraid.