Sold to Moretti Mafia

Lucca

I almost laugh at the expression she gives me. Like a kitten that’s been told no and put in time out. I don’t say anything and close her door before walking around to the driver’s side.

Claire sits with her arms across her chest, making her tits more noticeable. She doesn’t look at me, but I can see the anger bubbling up inside of her. I start the SUV and head back toward the house.

“Why did you come tonight?”

I turn the radio down, knowing that she won’t be able to hear me with the music on.

“Don’t ask questions that are just going to piss you off. Shut up and be quiet.” I speak to her like she is a child, and not because I see her as one, but because she’s acting like one.

She huffs angrily and leans against the door. I white knuckle the steering wheel, the tension in the SUV rises a degree with each breath we take. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have come back into her life, not that I was really ever gone, but I wasn’t physically involved.

Leaving her again is going to be harder on both of us.

“I’m done, Lucca. Done being controlled.” I grasp the steering wheel a little tighter. “I hate you, but more than anything, I hate myself because even after all this time, even after everything you said and did to me. The way you hurt me. I still miss you…” Her voice cracks, and so does my heart.

A sob rips from her throat, and like a rubber band pulled too tight, I snap. I veer off the side of the road and slam my foot on the breaks. All my pent-up anger and rage rushes to the surface. I’m TNT, and she’s just lit my fucking fuse.

Carter’s car passes by us, and I shoot him a quick text to keep on going home. I need to deal with Claire right now. I need to fix this.

It’s wrong to want her. Forbidden, a temptation that I can’t afford. Falling for her, giving in to what we both want, would only lead to more pain. I learned long ago that I could never love, not even her. What does it say about me as a man to have known her for years-since she was a little girl-and now that she’s older and more mature, I see her in a different light?

“What do you want from me, Claire?” I speak through clenched teeth. “Do you…”Contentt bel0ngs to N0ve/lDrâ/ma.O(r)g!

She cuts me off and moves toward me. “I want you to touch me.”

I swallow my tongue. She wants me… fuck, she wants me to touch her? I clam up, my entire body stiffens.

“Touch, Lucca. I want to feel your fingers on my skin.”

“You’re drunk,” I croak, my cock uncaring of anything I’ve thought over the last hour. I’m coming up with every excuse I can fathom not to touch her, all while knowing nothing could ever stop me. My obsession with her is maddening. There is nowhere in this world she could hide from me I wouldn’t find her.

“I want you,” she whispers and crawls across the seat and into my lap. Straddling me, she wraps her arms around my neck and pulls me close.

I’m consumed by her, swallowed whole, and I can’t stop the desire from seeping out of me. I want her so badly; it fucking hurts. I can almost taste her on my lips, feel her against my skin.

I’m at a crossroads. I have to stop this, but I can’t.

“Touch me, Lucca, please,” Claire whimpers.

Taking my hand in hers, she guides it to the apex of her thigh. My heart beats so loudly, it’s the only thing I can hear in my ears. Her movements aren’t hesitant. Or timid. In fact, they’re experienced and precise, which leads me to wonder if she’s been with someone.

Carter has been watching her for me, and until tonight, I trusted him completely, but apparently, he has been doing shit behind my back, and I’m not so sure anymore.

The thought leaves me feeling an irrational rush of jealousy. My cock grows harder as she grinds herself against it, taunting me, edging me toward a breaking point that I’ll never come back from. A tiny groan escapes my lips.

“Do it. Feel how much I want you.”

Her sultry voice, coupled with her scent, is enough to push me over the edge, but the nail in the coffin is when she spreads her legs a little wider and presses my fingers closer to her warm heat. In a flash, I forget the world around me. I let the worry and fear of what may happen tomorrow fall to the wayside.

She is my greatest sin, and I will sin a thousand times over for her. Inching my fingers closer, I graze the edge of her underwear. At that single touch, she lets out a content sigh. I’m tempted to slip beneath the underwear and sink my fingers inside her tight channel to see if she’s given herself to another man, but at the last second, choose not to.

If she is still a virgin, I’m not sure I’ll be returning her to her bedroom tonight as one. My control is threadbare with her. Half of me wants to break her, twist her, and push her to her limits. The other half wants to keep her at arm’s length because I know what a man like me will do to her. She’s pure innocence wrapped in a tight bow, and I want to unwrap her like a little boy on Christmas morning.

“Tell me you don’t want this,” I growl into the shell of her good ear.

Her head is resting against my shoulder, and I can just barely make out the outline of her face. “Tell me to stop,” I beg, moving my finger over the center.

Her arousal has soaked through her panties, leaving a wet spot against the fabric.

I can feel her engorged clit already. When I don’t touch her right where she wants, she whimpers and turns, burying her head into the crook of my neck.

Her tongue darts out, and I feel it on my skin. She licks the side of my neck, pressing the tip of her tongue against my throbbing pulse. Fuck, if that doesn’t turn me on more.

I know she’s ready for me, waiting for me to claim her, but I don’t know if I can push myself over the ledge.

Then she whispers into my ear, “If you stop. I’ll find someone else. Someone who will finish what they start.”

I should stop, that would be the right thing, the proper thing, especially since she is drunk, but I can’t. I can’t stop. I’m too far gone.

Just like that, my resolve snaps completely, and I grip the edge of her panties and pull. The cotton gives way under my grip, and the audible tear fills the SUV. I was keeping her underwear on to protect her, but it seems she doesn’t want protection from me. She wants me to ravage her, devour her from the inside out. Little does she know, once I’m finished with her, there will be nothing left.

I give her no warning and slip a finger between her folds. She is drenched with need, making it easy for me to slide over her clit. The feel of her soft body writhing against mine is my undoing. As soon as I rub circles against her swollen nub, she lifts her hips, seeking an orgasm that she knows is on the horizon.

“Don’t stoppp.” I don’t. I couldn’t, not even if I wanted to. Not even knowing that this is wrong. That nothing but pain will come from this.

Adding more pressure to her clit, I move faster, and like a shooting star, she gains speed, getting closer to soaring through the night sky.

“Fall apart for me. Coat my hand. Leave me with a reminder of you because this is the only time we’ll ever get.”

“Oh, Lucca,” she sighs and digs her nails into my wrist and thigh, making me hiss with both pleasure and pain. I want to fuck her so bad, to push deep inside of her, to fill her with my cum, and ensure she will never have another man, but I can’t. I won’t. I’m not the man for Claire. I’m not her savior. I’m not anything.

“Don’t stop! Please, don’t stop.”

Claire’s entire body tightens, and a second later, she clamps her legs together, trapping my hand between her thighs as shudders of pleasure rip through her. My heart gallops in my chest, and I’ve never been more turned on in my life. I’m visibly shaken, and if she asked me to fuck her right now, I would. I don’t care that she’s been drinking, that her judgment may be off. I’d throw being a good man right out the window to sink deep inside her.

Like a doll, she sags against me and shifts enough so that I can pull my hand away. I rub the two fingers together that are coated in her release before bringing them to my lips. Her sweet taste explodes against my tongue, and I swallow down a groan.

I shouldn’t have fucking done that. Now all I see is her pussy pressed against my face, my hands wrapped around her, holding her in place as I feast on her until she begs me to stop. A fantasy that will never come true because I won’t let it.

Claire remains molded to my body for a few more moments before I lift her over the center console and place her in the passenger seat. Coldness sweeps over me in the absence of her body heat. Leaning against the window, she doesn’t say a single word. Neither do I. Then again, what is there to say? I’m sorry for touching you. I’m sorry, I want to fuck you until you scream my name loud enough for the entire world to hear it.

I hate myself a little more for what I’ve just done, but there are no take-backs in this life. By the time I start the SUV again and pull out onto the road, Claire is passed out in the passenger’s seat, and I’m left with my thoughts, wondering if I just made the biggest mistake of my life by hurting her again.

“Happy birthday, butterfly,” I whisper. “I wish I could give you what you want, but I can’t. I just can’t.”

I’d rather die a thousand times over than hurt her, but I’m not the hero she thinks I am. It’s time she saw the real me. It’s time she realized the man that killed her father that night is the man I am every day, the man I hide from her, so I don’t risk hurting her again.

Maybe in protecting her, I’m only elongating her pain? Maybe if she sees the real me, her own obsession will die?