Chapter 93: Untie the Robe

Luca took in the robe she was wearing with the slow attention of a man who never missed detail. His gaze traveled from the hollow of her throat, to the bare slope of her legs beneath the silk. He lifted his wine glass and took a measured sip.

A smirk curved at the corner of his mouth. “Untie the robe.”

“Here? Now?” she asked.

“Now.”

Vee slipped her fingers to the belt and tugged slowly. She let the fabric loosen inch by inch, let it fall from her shoulders. The robe pooled at her elbows.

Beneath it, black floral lace hugged her breasts, sheer enough to hint, intricate enough to torment. Silky satin shorts skimmed her hips, clinging to the curve of her waist and the soft line of her thighs.

“Well,” Luca drawled, setting his glass down, “someone clearly came dressed for a fuck.”

His eyes were darker now.

“You’re the one stalling,” she shot back, lifting her chin slightly.

She refused to let him see how the heat between her legs had already begun to build, how her body responded to his voice before he even touched her.

“I don’t see you begging,” he replied coolly.

She leaned forward just enough to close some of the distance. “Pretty please…” she said with a small smile, hooking a finger beneath the lace at her chest and tugging it down just slightly. Just enough to show more skin. Just enough to test him.

“That’s not begging.”

He adjusted in his seat and reached forward without warning, grasping her calves and lifting her legs effortlessly onto his thighs. He removed her flip flops one by one, letting them drop carelessly to the floor.

His fingers wrapped around her ankle.

“I am a very patient man,” he said.

He began pulling gently at her toes, pressing into the arches of her feet with slow pressure. The massage was intimate, tender.

“I’m going to wait,” he continued, eyes locked on hers as his thumbs moved in circles, “until you desperately want my cock inside you. You will beg like your life depends on it.”

Her breath caught at the promise. At the way he spoke.

He lifted one of her feet to his mouth.

He pressed his lips to the arch slowly, lingering, inhaling the scent of her skin. His stubble brushed against her, rough enough to send a tremor up her spine. He kissed along the curve of her foot.

Vee’s fingers curled against the edge of the chair. The control she had planned to maintain began to unravel thread by thread.

This was supposed to be strategy.

But when his tongue traced lightly along her heel, when his hands tightened around her calves, when his gaze flickered upward and met hers with lust, the lines blurred.

Because Luca was hunger, violence. He was the kind of man who could ruin her slowly and make her thank him for it.

Her thighs pressed together instinctively, the satin catching against heated skin.

His lips brushed her ankle again.

“And I must warn you,” Luca said quietly. “I don’t care that you have never been fucked before. I don’t do that vanilla shit. I don’t do careful. The longer you test me, the harder I will take you apart, Bambola. There will be nothing gentle about it. The sheets will be filled with your blood and cum and even then, I will keep fucking you until you are seconds away from drawing your final breath.”

The words were brutal in their clarity. They were a declaration of the kind of man he was.

Vee’s legs trembled in his hands.

“Isn’t that just exaggeration?” she asked, forcing a smirk she did not fully feel.

“Beg,” he replied, a slow smile touching his mouth. “And we’ll see.”

His fingers tightened slightly around her ankle.

Of course she wanted him to take her.

Of course she did.

Her body betrayed her long before her pride ever would. The heat in her stomach, the pulse between her thighs, the way her breath thinned when he looked at her like that. Even his voice alone was dangerous. He had a way of speaking that made words feel physical.

It should have been studied. Dissected. Preached against in churches.

Instead, she sat there offering herself to it.

But pride was stitched into her spine. Begging was surrender. Begging meant admitting he had the upper hand.

And she would not give him that easily.

“I do think I should inform you of something,” Vee said suddenly.

Luca did not immediately look up. His mouth brushed slowly along the curve of her ankle again, his breath warm against her skin.

“What’s that?” he asked.

“I met Cassidy today. At church. Valentina said hello to him. We had a brief exchange.”

Luca lifted his head then.

“It was obvious he’s angry,” she added. “Very angry.”

Luca’s hands slid slowly down from her calf to her ankle, still holding her foot in his grasp.

“Did he touch you?” he asked.

“No.”

“Thank you for telling me,” Luca said quietly.

He lifted her foot again, pressing a slow kiss to her big toe.

“Luca?”

“Hmmm…” His attention had drifted back to her legs, his hands moving up along her calves.

“Good night?” she asked lightly.

“Tease…” he muttered, not looking up.

She chuckled. “I have an early morning. You can drop me off at the shop if you want.”

“Anything for you, Bambola.”

“Luca?”

He exhaled dramatically and finally looked up at her, one brow arching. “Oh boy… Can I get some peace?” he snapped playfully.

“I’d like to start driving myself.”

His hands stilled on her legs. “Why?” he asked, slowly lowering her leg to his lap. “The driver is not just there to drive,” he continued evenly. “He is also there for your security.”

“My security?” she repeated. “Or my leash. I need to know you trust me, Luca.”

“I remember the last time you asked me to trust you,” he said slowly, “you went kissing Cassidy.”

“Things have changed,” Vee said.

“Have they?”

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