Chapter 5
1273 Words
When they left the dance floor, they stopped by the bar to order drinks. The girl licked her lips slowly, seductively — a silent promise that she wanted more.
He could still feel her touch burning on his skin, her scent pulsing in his memory like a second heartbeat.
“What do you drink?” he asked, leaning closer so his voice could pierce through the noise.
“It depends on my mood,” she murmured, her tone velvet and teasing. “And right now… I’m in the mood for something strong.”
He smirked and ordered two strong ones. When the glasses arrived, she picked hers up — slowly, with the tips of her fingers — and looked him straight in the eyes before taking a sip. It wasn’t accidental. It was a challenge.
Luciano swallowed hard. His wolf stirred — hungry, restless. Every small movement of hers carried a dangerous promise.
She set her glass down, tracing its rim with a finger before leaning in, just enough for him to feel her breath against his skin.
“Are you trying to seduce me?” he asked, his voice low, rough, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips. But his eyes burned with heat.
She bit her lower lip, tilting her head slightly to the side.
“Is it working?”
“Oh, baby…” His voice dropped an octave, intimate and dark. “More than you think. I’d kiss you right now… if there weren’t so many eyes around.”
She smiled slowly — that knowing, dangerous smile of a huntress who already owned the night.
“Then let’s go somewhere private,” she whispered. “Any ideas?”
“I’ve got a place nearby.” He leaned closer, his breath hot against her cheek. “Don’t be afraid of me.”
She ran her finger down his chest, as if testing how real he was.
“If I were afraid, I’d be gone already,” she said calmly.
Their gazes locked — sharp, electric, burning.
“We both know what we want,” she added. “So why pretend otherwise?”
He lowered his voice, husky and edged with danger.
“Are you sure you can handle what you want?”
She nodded slowly. Her eyes were fearless, full of raw hunger and that wild desire to break free — and lose herself in the dark.
No more words. Only the sharp, intoxicating anticipation before the bite. The decision was made.
They climbed up to Luciano’s apartment. The door closed behind them with a heavy click — and all the tension between them exploded. He pressed her against the wall in the hallway, his hands finding her waist, his lips claiming hers in a kiss that burned like fire.
She opened to him instantly — wild, hungry, desperate, as if they’d both been wandering through a desert for a hundred years and finally found water.
He lifted her easily, pulling her closer, afraid she might vanish — that this might be just a dream.
Then she pushed lightly against his chest, breathless. For a heartbeat, there was silence.
“Hey,” she whispered, smiling, tracing her fingers along his lips. “No need to rush, right? We’ve got time… don’t we?”
He froze, still holding her, finally catching the playful glint in her tone. She wasn’t prey. She was the hunter.
“Aren’t you going to offer your guest a drink?” she teased, arching an eyebrow as if to remind him of good manners — even here, even now.
Luciano chuckled, lowering her gently to the floor.
“Of course, bella lupa,” he said, heading for the bar. “Just don’t disappear while I get the glasses. You’re my most precious guest now.”
“We’ll see about that.” She walked further into the room, her gaze sweeping across his apartment — curious yet utterly in control. “Surprise me.”
He poured two glasses of deep, velvet-red wine. When he handed her one, their eyes met again — the tension still there, simmering, sharper now, refined by restraint.
“To a night we’ll remember,” he said.
“Or forget,” she countered softly.
She raised the glass to her lips.
“To freedom,” she whispered, and drank.
Her fingers brushed his as she took the other glass, her expression calm, almost playful. She took a sip, then lowered her eyes.
“Relax,” she said. “I’ll pour for you.”
Her hand trailed over his shoulder as she took the second glass.
“I want to treat you too, mio lupo. Fair is fair, isn’t it?”
She turned toward the bar, her back to him. He couldn’t take his eyes off her — the curve of her spine, the graceful sway of her hips, the ease with which she took command of the moment.
For a brief second, her back shielded her actions. From the pocket of her jacket, she slipped out a tiny packet. A subtle motion, almost invisible — the powder dissolved soundlessly in the wine.
When she turned back, everything looked perfect again.
She smiled, offering him the glass.
“Salute. To you being in that club tonight… in this exact moment.”
He accepted the drink, tilting his head.
“And to fate — which is far too beautiful when it wears your face.”
They clinked glasses. She watched as he took a sip — her pulse racing with a strange mix of fear and adrenaline. There was no going back now. But it was her move. Her choice.
Luciano set the empty glass down slowly, his fingers lingering on the smooth rim.
“What’s your name?” he asked, his voice rough, eyes fixed on her lips.
The girl smiled faintly, tossing her hair back with effortless grace.
“My close friends call me Lucci,” she said softly, almost a whisper.
He froze.
A shadow flickered in his eyes — faint, almost invisible, yet sharp enough to cut through the haze. His gaze sharpened, as if suddenly seeing her anew.
“Lucci?” he repeated, tasting the name. “That’s what… someone used to call me.”
He stopped, losing his words for the first time.
“Your girlfriend?” she teased lightly, raising a brow.
He shook his head. His voice dropped, quieter now, deeper.
“My mother. Only she called me that. No one else. It was… special.”
A brief pause.
Nicoletta’s heart tensed, though her face remained calm.
“Then I guess I’m special,” she said casually, taking another sip.
But inside her, something cracked — small, fragile, but real.
“Lucci…” he repeated under his breath, and in his voice there was something more than fascination — something dangerous, fated. “Tell me, what is that if not destiny?”
His eyes glowed with inner fire. And in the next moment, before she could reply, he swept her into his arms again, holding her tight — as if afraid she might vanish from his world.
“I can’t hold back anymore,” he whispered against her neck, his voice trembling with raw instinct and primal hunger.
Nicoletta froze in his arms. Her heart pounded wildly — not from fear, but from the sheer force of his desire. From the way he held her, like she was the only woman who had ever mattered.
She knew it now: nothing was going according to plan.
He wasn’t just “any man.”
He was something more.
Dangerously more.
And now — it was too late to stop.
- Writer
