Forbidden Never Felt This Good

~ 11

0011

~ Aria ~

The possessiveness radiating from Luca was making heat pool low in my belly, a traitorous warmth that spread through my thighs and made my pulse race. But I refused to let him see it. Refused to let him know that his jealous display in the gallery had affected me at all.

I kept my spine straight as we walked toward the exit. Behind us, I could hear the resumed murmur of conversation, feel the weight of curious stares following our dramatic departure.

"You had no right," I hissed the moment we stepped outside into the cool night air.

"I had every right." His hand was on my lower back again, possessive, burning through the thin fabric of my dress. "He was touching you like he owned you."

"Maybe I wanted him to touch me."

The lie tasted bitter, but I needed to push back. Needed to make him understand he couldn't just sabotage every date my father arranged because of his jealousy.

Luca's jaw clenched so hard I heard his teeth grind. "Don't."

"Don't what? Don't go on dates? Don't let men who are actually available touch me?" I spun to face him as we reached the car, anger and arousal warring in my chest. "You don't get to have it both ways, Luca. You don't get to f**k me in secret and then act like you have some claim on me in public."

"I wasn't acting." His voice was low, dangerous, sending shivers down my spine despite my fury. "And you know damn well you didn't want his hands on you."

"How would you know what I want?"

"Because your body tells me everything." He stepped closer, backing me against the car door. "Because even now, even when you're angry with me, you're wet. I can see it in the way you're breathing. The way your pupils are dilated. The way you keep pressing your thighs together."

Damn him for being right.

He opened the car door, his hand firm on my elbow as he guided me inside. The moment he slid in beside me and the door closed, sealing us in the quiet darkness, the air became electric.

"Drive," he ordered Marco without taking his eyes off me.

The car pulled away from the gallery, and I stared straight ahead, trying to ignore the heat of his body beside me, the way his cologne wrapped around me like a claim.

"You're being unreasonable," I said, but my voice came out breathier than I intended.

"Am I?" His hand landed on my thigh, just above my knee. Possessive. Claiming.

I sucked in a breath as his fingers squeezed, rough and aggressive, sliding higher beneath the hem of my dress. My thighs parted instinctively, traitorously, and I hated myself for it even as heat flooded between my legs.

"Luca..." It was supposed to be a warning. It came out like a plea.

His hand moved higher, pushing my dress up, fingers digging into the soft flesh of my inner thigh with bruising pressure.

I wanted him. Right there. Right then.

"Stop the car," Luca growled suddenly.

Marco's eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, a hint of surprise crossing his usually stoic face. But he didn't question it. The car slowed, pulling over to the side of the quiet street, the engine humming softly as it idled.

"Take the night off," Luca said, his voice tight with restraint. "Call the backup team. Tell them to follow at a distance. I'll drive from here."

Marco nodded once, stepping out without a word. He knew better than to linger. The door closed behind him, leaving Luca and me alone in the charged silence.

Luca slid out, circled to the driver's side, and got in, his movements precise and controlled. I followed also, I wasn’t about to be left alone in the back seat. He adjusted the seat, started the engine, and pulled back onto the road.

But instead of heading straight home, he took a sharp turn down a side street, then another, weaving through the darker, less-traveled parts of the city. The lights grew sparse, the buildings giving way to shadowed warehouses and empty lots. My heart pounded, a mix of anticipation and nerves twisting in my gut. He was taking us somewhere private. Somewhere no one would interrupt.

Finally, he pulled into a deserted alley, hidden from the main road by towering brick walls. The car came to a stop, and he killed the engine, plunging us into near-total darkness. The only light came from the faint glow of distant streetlamps, casting harsh shadows across his face.

"Get in the back," he commanded, his voice rough, laced with something dark and unyielding.

I should have argued. Should have told him no. But my body was already moving, climbing over the console into the spacious backseat. He followed, his large frame filling the space, making it feel impossibly small. The door clicked shut behind him, sealing us in.

"You think you can disobey me?" His hands were on me before I could respond, yanking my dress up around my waist with brutal efficiency. "Let another man put his hands on you? Punish me by flirting with that worthless prick?"

"Luca, I…."

"Shut up." His mouth crashed down on mine, the kiss punishing, all teeth and dominance. His tongue invaded, claiming, while his hands tore at my panties, the fabric ripping with a sharp sound that echoed in the confined space.

I gasped into his mouth, my hands fisting in his shirt as he pushed me back against the seat. He didn't bother with gentleness, no teasing touches, no slow build. This was raw, animal need. Punishment.

He freed himself from his pants with one hand, the other pinning my wrists above my head against the window. His grip was iron, bruising, and it sent a thrill through me despite the pain. Or maybe because of it.

"You belong to me," he snarled against my neck, biting down hard enough to make me cry out. "Say it."

"I... I belong to you," I whispered, my voice breaking as he positioned himself between my thighs.

He thrust into me in one brutal stroke, filling me completely, stretching me to the edge of pain. I arched off the seat, a moan tearing from my throat. He didn't give me time to adjust, pulling back only to slam in again, harder, deeper. The car rocked with the force of it, the leather creaking under us.

"Is this what you wanted?" he growled, his free hand digging into my hip, holding me in place as he set a punishing rhythm. "To push me until I f**k you like this? Like you need to be reminded who owns this p***y?"

Each thrust was relentless, his body slamming into mine with a ferocity that blurred the line between pleasure and pain. I could feel every inch of him, thick and unyielding, claiming me over and over. My legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his back, urging him on even as tears pricked my eyes from the intensity.

"Please," I begged, not sure what I was asking for. More. Less. Everything.

He released my wrists, only to tangle his fingers in my hair, yanking my head back to expose my throat. His teeth grazed my pulse point, then bit down again, marking me as his hips pistoned faster. "You take what I give you," he rasped. "And you'll come screaming my name."

The pressure built, coiling tight in my core, his rough thrusts hitting that spot inside me with merciless precision. His hand slid between us, fingers finding my c**t, rubbing in harsh circles that made stars explode behind my eyelids.

I shattered, my orgasm crashing over me like a wave, my walls clenching around him as I cried out his name. "Luca!"

He followed moments later, burying himself deep with a guttural groan, spilling inside me in hot pulses. His body tensed, then relaxed, but he didn't pull away immediately. Instead, he leaned down, his breath ragged against my ear.

"No one can fill you like I do," he murmured, his voice low and possessive. "Remember that next time you think about letting another man touch what's mine."

He withdrew slowly, tucking himself back into his pants with casual efficiency. I lay there for a moment, dress rumpled, body aching in the best way, trying to catch my breath. Luca slid back into the driver's seat without a word, starting the engine as if nothing had happened.

I straightened my clothes as best I could, climbing back to the front passenger seat. The rest of the drive home was silent, the tension still simmering but sated for now. As we pulled into the estate's driveway, I glanced at him, but his face was impassive, eyes on the road.

Like nothing had happened.

But we both knew better. This was far from over.