Forbidden Never Felt This Good

~ 8

0008

~ Aria ~

Outside, the night air was cool against my heated skin. Luca's hand remained on my lower back as he led me to the car, his body between me and the street, scanning for threats that didn't exist.

The car door closed behind us, and we pulled away from the restaurant.

"What's the threat?" I demanded.

"Intelligence suggests…"

"Bullshit." I turned to face him fully. "There's no threat. You made that up."

His jaw clenched, that familiar muscle ticking. In the dim light of the car, he looked dangerous — all sharp edges and barely controlled violence. "I'm doing my job."

"Your job is to protect me from real threats, not fabricate them to end dates you don't like."

"I didn't…"

"Don't lie to me, Luca." My voice was sharp. "I know you. I can tell when you're lying. What was it? A phone call from yourself? A fake text?"

He stared straight ahead, his hands clenched on his thighs. "There was a credible…"

"Stop it. Just stop." I laughed bitterly. "You couldn't even let me finish one dinner. One boring, harmless dinner with a man I wasn't even interested in."

"Then why go at all?"

"Because my father arranged it! Because I'm trying to navigate this impossible situation!" I stopped, breathing hard. "Because I wanted to see if you'd actually let me."

His eyes cut to mine, smoke-gray and burning. "You were testing me."

"Yes."

"Wearing that dress. Letting him sit close. Laughing at his jokes even though he's boring as hell." His voice was low, dangerous, sending shivers down my spine despite my anger. "All to see what I'd do."

"And now I know. You can't handle it. You can't handle the thought of me with someone else, even for appearances."

"You're damn right I can't."

The car pulled through the estate gates. I was out before it fully stopped, fury and satisfaction warring in my chest. I'd gotten exactly the reaction I wanted, and yet it still wasn't enough. He still wouldn't claim me publicly. Still wouldn't tell my father. Still wanted to have me in the shadows like some dirty secret.

I stormed toward the house, Luca was right behind me, keeping pace easily with those long legs.

"You have no right," I threw over my shoulder. "No right to sabotage my dates, to control my life…"

"I have every right." He caught my arm, spun me to face him in the entrance hall. The force of it made me stumble slightly, and his other hand shot out to steady me. "You're mine."

"I'm not your possession!"

"Aren't you?" He backed me against the wall, one hand beside my head, his body caging mine. The heat of him was overwhelming, intoxicating. "Your body knows it. Even when you're sitting across from another man, pretending to be interested, your body knows exactly who it belongs to."

"You arrogant…"

He kissed me, hard and claiming, swallowing my protest. I bit his lip, drawing blood, tasting copper and rage and need. He growled into my mouth, the sound vibrating through me.

"You wanted me to snap," he said against my lips, his breath hot. "Congratulations. You succeeded."

"f**k you."

"That's the plan."

He lifted me, and I wrapped my legs around his waist on instinct, even as fury still burned through my veins. My arms locked around his neck as he carried me up the stairs, his hands gripping my ass possessively. He kicked open my suite door with enough force that it slammed against the wall.

"Put me down," I demanded, even as my hands fisted in his hair.

"No."

"Luca…"

"You want to play games? Fine. But you don't get to be mad when I play back." He dropped me on the bed and followed me down, his weight pinning me to the mattress. "You wore that dress for me. Sent me those texts. Made sure I saw every smile you gave him."

"So what if I did?"

"So you don't get to be surprised when I end it." His hand found the slit in my dress, slid up my thigh with deliberate slowness. "When I remind you who you belong to."

"I don't belong to anyone."

"Liar." His fingers found me through my panties, and his smile was dark, predatory, devastating. "Your cunt is dripping for me, tesoro. It was probably wet the entire time you sat across from that boring fucker."

Heat flooded my face because he was right. I'd been soaked through dinner, hyperaware of him watching me from across the room, imagining what he'd do when we were alone.

I grabbed his tie, yanked him down for a brutal kiss. "You're a controlling, jealous bastard."

"And you're a manipulative little tease." His fingers shoved my panties aside, two thick digits plunging straight into my slick heat without warning. "We're perfect for each other."

I came on his fingers almost immediately—angry, desperate, my body betraying how much I'd needed this. My hips bucked against his hand as he curled his fingers ruthlessly against my G-spot, his thumb grinding merciless circles on my swollen c**t.

"Already?" he taunted, not slowing down, working me through the aftershocks. "You were that desperate for me while you pretended to listen to his bullshit?"

"Shut up and f**k me," I snarled, reaching for his belt with shaking hands.

I freed his c**k — thick, heavy, already leaking pre-c*m, and shoved him onto his back with more force than necessary. He let me, his eyes dark with hunger as I straddled him in one fluid motion. I positioned myself and sank down hard, taking every inch until my ass met his thighs.

We both groaned — raw, animal sounds that filled the quiet room.

"This doesn't mean you win," I gasped, starting to ride him with punishing rhythm, grinding my c**t against his pelvis on every downstroke.

"Doesn't it?" His hands gripped my hips hard enough to bruise, guiding me faster, deeper. "You're f*****g yourself on my c**k like you can't get enough. Sounds like I won to me."

"Shut up." I increased my pace, chasing my pleasure, using his body for my own satisfaction. My nails dug into his chest through his shirt. My breasts bounced with every movement, n*****s hard against the silk of my dress.

I felt powerful like this, taking what I wanted, watching his face contort with pleasure beneath me, feeling him throb inside me with every movement.

But when I got close—when my thighs started trembling and my inner walls began to flutter around him—he broke free, flipped us in one powerful motion, and pinned me beneath him.

"My turn," he growled.

He hooked my legs over his shoulders, folding me in half, and drove back inside with brutal force. The new angle hit so deep I saw stars, every thrust slamming against my cervix in the best-worst way possible.

He pounded into me relentlessly, one hand wrapping around my throat—not choking, just holding, possessive, his thumb pressing lightly against my racing pulse.

"You're mine, Aria. Say it."

"Mmmmm—" The sound came out strangled, pleasure robbing me of words.

He slowed to torturous, shallow thrusts, barely moving inside me. "Say it."

"Go to hell."

"Ladies first." He slammed back in—hard, deep—and I cried out, my back arching off the bed. "Say. It."

"I am yours!" The words tore from my throat in a guttural groan of pleasure and surrender.

I met him thrust for thrust, hips rising to take him deeper despite the impossible angle. My nails raked bloody lines down his back through his shirt. He kissed me like he was trying to devour me—teeth on my lip, tongue claiming my mouth, then biting down my throat until I was marked with red blooms that would be visible tomorrow.

Good. Let everyone see.

His hand left my throat to slide between us, finding my c**t and rubbing fast, merciless circles while he f****d me senseless.

"Come," he snarled. "Come on my c**k right now. Show me how badly you needed this after sitting across from that prick all night."

I shattered—violent, full-body convulsions, my cunt clamping down so hard he groaned like he'd been punched. My orgasm ripped through me in endless waves, soaking his c**k, dripping down to his balls.

He didn't stop.

Kept pounding through my spasms, prolonging the pleasure until I was sobbing, oversensitive, begging incoherently for him to stop, to never stop, to f**k me forever.

Then he pulled out abruptly, flipped me onto my stomach, yanked my hips up, and drove back inside from behind—deeper, harder, his balls slapping my c**t with every brutal thrust.

"Again," he demanded, his voice wrecked and desperate. "Give me another one. I want to feel you milking every drop when I fill you up."

I was helpless—face pressed to the sheets, ass in the air, thighs shaking uncontrollably. His hand cracked across my ass—sharp, stinging—then again, and again, each slap driving me higher, making me gush around him.

"You think you can parade around in this dress for another man?" He wrapped my hair around his fist, yanked my head back so I had to arch into him. "Think you can smile at him, let him think he has a chance? This p***y is mine. These t**s are mine. Every f*****g moan is mine."

"Yes… f**k… yours…" I could barely form words, pleasure overwhelming everything.

He changed the angle, hitting that perfect spot inside me over and over with devastating precision. His other hand slid around to rub my c**t again—fast, ruthless, exactly how I needed it.

I came a second time—screaming his name, vision whiting out, my cunt spasming so violently he could barely move inside me. I felt him follow moments later, his hips jerking erratically as he pumped thick, hot spurts deep inside me, marking me, claiming me, filling me until I felt it leak out around his c**k.

We collapsed together, breathing hard, sweat-slicked skin sliding against silk and cotton. My dress was ruined, twisted around my waist. His shirt was torn where my nails had caught it. We were a mess of fluids and desperation and something that felt dangerously close to love.

He was still inside me, softening slowly.