Get a grip, Aria. “No, not that much.” My voice caught on the last word because Luca had twitched. “It’s okay, Luca. Just move. I won’t be mad at you. You don’t have to hold back for me. Just get it over with.”
“Do you think I want to use you like that? I can see how fucking painful this is. I’ve done many horrible things in my life, but I won’t add this to my list.”
“Why? You hurt people all the time. You don’t have to pretend to care for my feelings only because we’re married.”
His eyes flashed. “What makes you think I have to pretend?”
My lips parted. I didn’t dare to hope, didn’t dare to read too much into his words, but God, did I want to.
“Tell me what to do,” he said harshly.
“Can you hold me close for a while? But don’t move.”
“I won’t,” he promised, then kissed my lips. He gritted his teeth as he lowered himself completely. We were incredibly close—not even a sheet of paper would have fit between us. Luca curled one arm under my shoulders and pressed me against his chest, and then we kissed, our lips gliding over each other, our tongues tangling, soft and teasing. Luca caressed my side and my ribs before sneaking a hand between us and drawing small circles on my nipple. Slowly my body became slack under his soft caress and the taste of his mouth on mine. The pain between my legs turned to a dull ache and my core loosened around Luca, my body growing accustomed to his size. Luca didn’t seem to notice, or he chose to ignore it; instead he kept kissing me. His fingernail scraped my nipple and a flicker of pleasure spiked between my legs. I drew back, my lips raw and hot from our kiss. Luca’s eyes were hooded.
“Can you still…?” I asked.
He shifted and I could feel how hard he was. He hadn’t softened at all. My eyes widened in surprise.
“I told you I’m not a good man. Even though I know you’re hurting, I still have a boner because I’m inside you.”
“Because you want me.”
“I’ve never wanted anything more in my life,” Luca admitted.
“Can we go slow?”
“Of course, principessa.” Still holding me close, he withdrew a few inches, watching my face. The look of concern on his face released a knot in my chest.
I exhaled. It still hurt but not nearly as much as before, and behind the pain was the hint of something better. Luca eased back into me and found a slow and gentle rhythm. I soaked in the feel of Luca’s strong body pressed against me, the sharp lines of his face. His eyes never left my face. He didn’t seem to mind the slow pace; the tension in his shoulders and neck was the only sign of how difficult this was for him. He changed the angle and a spark of pleasure shot through me. I gasped. Luca halted. “Did that hurt?”
“No, it felt good,” I said with a shaky smile. Luca smiled and repeated the motion, sending another tingle through me. He lowered his lips to mine. I wasn’t sure how long he kept up the slow rhythm, but I was getting sore and I knew I wouldn’t come. I wasn’t even close, despite the occasional flickers of pleasure. Dull pain still covered too much of it. I didn’t know how to say what I needed to say. He must have seen something on my face because he said. “Are you okay?”
I bit my lip. “How long until you…?”
“Not long, if I go a bit faster.” He scanned my face and I nodded. He propped himself up on his elbows and thrust faster and a bit harder, and I pressed my lips together and buried my face against his shoulder, clutching his back. The pain was back, but I wanted Luca to come. “Aria?” Luca rasped.
“Keep going. Please. I want you to come.”
He growled and kept thrusting. His pants came faster. He thrust deeper than before and I bit down on his shoulder to keep from whimpering in pain. Luca tensed with a groan, then he shuddered and I could feel him expand even further in me, filling me up until I was sure I’d come apart. He stopped moving, his lips against my throat. I could feel him softening in me and I almost breathed a sigh of relief. I held on to Luca, relishing the feel of his quick heartbeat and the sound of his harsh breathing.
Luca pulled out and lay down beside me, pulling me into his arms. He brushed back my hair from my sweaty face. I felt something trickling out of me and shifted uncomfortably.
“I’ll get a washcloth.” Luca got out of bed to head for the bathroom. Feeling cold without him, I stretched my legs but winced. I sat up and my eyes widened. There was blood smeared on my thighs and the bed, mingled with Luca’s semen. Luca knelt on the bed beside me. He must have cleaned himself because there wasn’t any blood on him. “There’s much more blood than the fake scene you created during our wedding night.” My voice was shaky.
Luca nudged my legs apart and pressed the warm wet washcloth against me. I sucked in a breath. Luca kissed my knee. “You were a lot tighter than I thought,” he said quietly. He pulled the washcloth away and I flushed, but he discarded it on the floor without another glance before he pressed his hand against my abdomen. “How bad is it?”
I put my head back on the pillow. “Not that bad. How can I complain when you’re covered in scars from knife and bullet wounds?”
“We’re not talking about me. I want to know how you feel, Aria. On a scale of one to ten, how much does it hurt?”
“Now? Five?”
Luca tensed. He lowered himself beside me, curled an arm around
