Page 59 of Killing Emma

“Then do it.” I don’t know where my courage comes from. Maybe it’s the fact I don’t believe he’ll do it, or maybe it’s just the craving for a distraction from the glimpse I had of the outside world—one I’ll have to face, eventually.

He tightens his grip and then backs me up, leaving me to stumble into the shadows blindly. My ass hits the wall first, and my heart rate picks up, thrumming against his fingers laced around my throat.

“Have I been too nice, Little Red?” Luca growls, pinning me and leaning into my neck. “Do you really think I’ll let a guest in my house berate me?”

“I’m a prisoner, not a guest.” My hands fly up to his finger as he gives another squeeze. Fear mixed with excitement funnel to my core, and as fucked up as it is… I want more from him.

His lips brush my earlobe. “Are you trying to piss me off?”

My body tingles. Yes. Yes, I am. I open my mouth to answer, but the sensation of his hard cock brushes against me, and I suck in a sharp breath instead.

And he laughs. “You’re too easy.”

“You’re too easy.”

Luca growls in response, and in a flash, he flips me around, the side of my face hitting the wall. His hands tear at my leggings and his jeans, within a few seconds, he plunges deep inside of me. I let out a cry and dig my fingernails into the wall.

“Such a good little whore, aren’t you?” he rasps from behind me. “Always wet and ready for me.”

I whimper with his heavy thrusts, losing myself in the pleasure of his cock ramming into me, momentarily erasing the pain of betrayal I’m still battling in my chest. Luca grunts over me, his violent ways lessening as he wraps his arm around my waist and buries his face in my hair.

“Oh fuck, Emma,” he groans, his fingers slipping between my legs. His breaths grow ragged and my thighs clench as my orgasm washes over me with only moments of his fingers on my clit. No one has ever made me come as hard and fast as him, and it’s not his method.

It’s just him.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Luca

I know I’m a distraction to her. I know that sometimes she pushes and lashes out, just so I’ll give her something that’ll help her forget for a while. And every time I try to tell myself I won’t take the fucking bait, it’s a lie. I’ll take it every single time she dangles it out in front of me.

And then feel like shit when we’re done.

I’m still leaning over her as I finish, breathing in the sweet scent of her skin, and the softness of her hair. I keep thinking one of these days, I’m going to break through the fucking walls she surrounds herself with. I want her so bad that I’m ripping myself open for her, and she doesn’t even realize it.

She’s still so hung up on him.

That thought brings me sudden irritation, and I pull out of her. I push myself off the wall and adjust myself. I snap the button on my jeans, and leave her there, panting from the fucking high I just brought her.

“Where are you going?” Emma calls after me as I head for the door.

“Air,” I say to her, raking my fingers through my hair. She doesn’t realize that she’s stripped me of power. She’s the Delilah to my Samson, cutting my fucking hair and draining me of the ability to be anything other than her toy. And the worst part is…

I still hope it’ll change—that the mentions she’s made of her future kids, homes, whatever, will lead to her wanting them with me.

Is this how Henry feels about Lydia?

If it is, no wonder he damn near killed himself to have her. I thunder down the stairs, startling Major as I head for the front door. I don’t care that I left Emma in the room with all the information about her. I don’t care if she finds it. I only kept it from her to protect her feelings—which maybe is the wrong thing to do.

As I step outside into the cool breezy morning, I freeze at the ringing of the gate—the sound that someone entered the code and is heading up my driveway. I bristle, watching and waiting for what’s to come, and hoping like hell it’s either Henry or Jude.

No one else living knows this place. Not even Ivan.

The sight of Jude’s black F150 is a relief, and he parks outside of the garage. I eye the house, hoping like hell Emma gets decent as I make my way to where Jude is. Once again, I notice how muscled up he is.

“Why’re you working out all of the sudden?” I joke, slapping his back.

“After the mess with Henry, I realized maybe I shouldn’t be such a pussy,” Jude grunts, slamming the truck door. “And speaking of, I’m not going to be able to keep Lydia at bay forever. She’s on me worse than Henry.”

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