Chapter 6 Chapter Six

Isabella.

Who knew my first lecture in five years would last until evening?

I mean, was that madness? Torture? A curse?

Probably all three because I was crazy tired. My body was aching and I was fucking hungry as well. I sat stiffly at the very back of the lecture hall, blinking at the screen as though the words would magically enter my brain. They didn’t. Not even a single syllable. My mind was nowhere near microeconomics or the theories these people worshiped.

My mind was on him. On Luca. The number of times I had relived that moment in my head was insane. This morning felt like a hallucination I wasn’t so strong enough to shake off. The way he was watching me. The way he grabbed me. The way he told me to leave. The hatred and disgust in those eyes. The way he looked at me was both the joke and the punchline.

He didn’t look like the boy I knew. The man I used to cling to. He didn’t look at me like I was his whole world.

And I..I didn’t know if I could ever be the Isabella he once owned.

My stomach twisted. The words he said to me about fucking me had been messing with my brain. That meant he still found me attractive? I could still work with that. I missed him fucking me like a whore.

“Hey!”

My shoulders jerked.

“Are you in this class,” the professor barked, “or thinking about your husband and children at home?”

Loud laughter rippled and my blood froze.

I stared up at the man, who was old with grey hair and perpetually angry. He was glaring at me like I had just spit on his grave.

“I….” My throat tightened. “Sorry.”

“Sorry, you say?”

He scoffed. “This is ridiculous. Repeat my last point.”

If I could remember anything, it was Luca talking about fucking me to death. Heat crawled up my neck as everyone stared. Their eyes were wide and entertained.

“I—I wasn’t paying attention,” I said softly. “I apologize.”

His nostrils flared.

“Let me warn you right down,” he said, pointing at me. “I don’t tolerate disrespect just because your father is some well-known politician-pastor hybrid. I will deal with you myself if you try me again.”

A wave of anxiety washed over me so hard my hands trembled. It felt like the walls of the hall leaned in crushing me. I could feel everyone’s eyes, everyone’s whispers. I hated being the center of attention. Five years of being locked inside had made my anxiety worse.

Breathe, Isabella. Breathe.

It didn’t work. I nodded mutely at him, wishing I could just sink into the floor and disappear.

——

An hour later, I pushed the front door open and stepped into the house, silence greeting me like an unwanted hug. No matter how long I stayed in this house, I could never feel like it was home. Maybe because Luca had always been my home and now I have lost my home.

“Isabella!”

Someone rushed in from the hallway, the sweetest soul in this mansion. Our oldest chef, Mara. Her arms wrapped around me immediately and I leaned into her warmth.

“I missed you,” I murmured. “It’s been so long since I last saw you.”

She kissed my cheeks. “I’m back to feed you. How was the lecture, my dear?”

I grabbed an apple from the tray. “How did you know I went?”

“Your father told me this morning.” She smiled warmly. “He sounded….a little proud.”

Proud and my father should never make a sentence.

“Anything to get out of this house Mara,” I muttered.

She chuckled. “Where is everyone?” I asked.

“Well,” she wiped her hands on her apron, “Vivian isn’t back from the office. Your father left a few minutes ago.”

I hummed and picked up my bag.

“Oh, Isabella.”

I turned, and she looked hesitant. “I’m not sure, but I think we have a visitor.”

My ears rang. No way.

“Visitor?”

She shrugged. “Daniel asked me to prepare one of the guest rooms.”

I blinked as I stayed frozen in place. There was no way Father was going to ever allow Luca back into this house. It wouldn’t happen.

So why did my pulse skip? I wouldn’t survive in the same space as Luca.

I hurried upstairs, telling myself not to be stupid. Not to hope. I opened the door to my room and dropped my bag. The speaker lit up as I connected my phone. FEEL—Beneld, Bury thumped through the room, the bass vibrating through the floorboards. I pulled my clothes off piece by piece, letting them fall to the floor.

My skin still felt prickly from the professor’s humiliation, from thinking about Luca, and from this house’s suffocating walls. I stepped into the bathroom and turned the shower on, letting cold water crash down my spine. I could feel my breath steadied and my heartbeat softened. I took my time, washing my body until a prickling sensation slid down my neck.

That feeling.

His feelings. The air shifted, thickened, and became familiar.

My pulse quickened.

“Isabella.”

My heart jumped at his voice. I turned off the water when I saw him. He was leaning against the door frame, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were darkly roaming on my body, devouring me.

My breath froze in my lungs.

He was wearing a low grey joggers, and my attention snapped downward. Jesus. The thick, hard outline of his cock strained against the soft fabric. My mouth went dry.

“Come here,” his voice was a low growl, a vibration that went straight to my cunt. He didn’t move an inch from the door, he just pointed a single finger at the spot on the floor directly in front of him.

I should crawl?

Knee?

I swallowed as the wild tremor of fear and excitement raced through my veins. I took a step, then another, my bare feet quiet on the damp floor. Water slid down my neck, over my boobs, and hardened nipples. It traced down along my stomach and my thighs. I felt utterly exposed, every inch of my body aware of his presence.

I was almost to him when he moved. Fast. One hand shot out, and his fingers were wrapping around the nape of my neck.

“Lu—Luca,” I choked.

He pulled me forward, my wet body colliding with the dry, soft cotton of his joggers. His body heat made my pussy throb. I wanted his hands on me. To do dirty things to me. I wanted him to fuck me like he used to.

He bent his head, his nose pressing into the curve where my neck meets my shoulder. He inhaled deeply, a harsh animalistic sound. “Fuck, you smell so good. It drives me insane, Piccola.”

Piccola.

I rubbed my thighs together. I could feel my pussy weeping for him. It was clenching and throbbing that I couldn’t breathe properly.

His other hand came up, palming my boobs roughly, his thumb rubbing over my nipple until it was hard and painful. The sensation was sharp and almost too much. My pussy was feeling the emptiness and was begging for something bigger than my own fingers.

“Luca,” I whispered a plea.

He ignored me as the grip on my neck tightened. My vision blurred. He shoved me downward without a hint of gentleness. A push that sent me stumbling to my knees on the hard bathroom floor. I looked up at him, and he looked like my sin.

He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his joggers and shoved them down just enough to free his cock. He still doesn’t wear briefs.

It sprang out, hard and thick and veined, the head was already glistening with pre cum. My eyes caught the shiny piercing on the top of his cock. It was intimidating. Beautiful. All mine to taste.

“Open that pretty fucking mouth, Bella,” he commanded, his voice dropping to that dark and possessive tone that made my insides clench. “You look good on your knees for me. My perfect little slut, aren’t you?”

His crude word sent a shiver through me. I parted my lips, and he didn’t wait. Luca fisted his hands in my wet hair, wrapping the strands tight around his knuckles. He guided himself to my mouth, the smooth, pierced hot tip pressing against my lips before he pushed forward.

“Mhmm….” I moaned loudly.

And then he was fucking my throat. No hesitation or gentleness. Just a deep, brutal thrust that stole my air and made my eyes water instantly. I gagged, the reflex uncontrollable as he stretched my mouth wide, filling me.

“That’s it,” he groaned, his hips pulling back only to piston forward again, much deeper this time. “Take it. You were made for this. For taking my fucking cock. Good girl.”