Page 33 of Silent Night With Luca

But I’m not done with her yet. I turn her around, placing her hands on the wall for support. She arches her back, offering her round ass to me, and I enter her from behind, my cock sliding into her slick heat with ease. I grip her hips, pulling her back onto me with a force that leaves no room for doubt—I own her, and she owns me.

I fuck her like I’m trying to meld us together, to erase the line between where she ends and I begin. The sounds of our bodies colliding, the feel of her skin against mine, the scent of our arousal mixing with the steam—it’s all-consuming.

She tightens around me, her orgasm building, and I know I won’t last much longer. “Oh, God, I am going to come inside of you. Don’t let me beat you to it. Come for me.”

And she does. Her body convulses around mine, her screams of release are only muffled by my kiss. Her second orgasm seems to hit her hard, and as she clenches around me, it’s too much. With a final, deep thrust, I join her, my own climax barreling through me like a freight train. I let go, burying myself as deep as I can as I explode inside her, filling her with my seed.

The force of my release is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It’s as if every ounce of pent-up tension, every drop of adrenaline that’s been coursing through my veins, is being channeled into this one moment, this connection between us.

We stay there, locked together, until our breathing evens out and the water begins to cool. Reluctantly, I ease out of her and set her back on her feet, our bodies begrudgingly part.

I reach out and shut off the water, the sudden silence a stark contrast to the ruckus of our passion. I grab a towel just outside of the shower and wrap her. As I do, I can’t help but think that this, right here, is worth any risk, any danger. Because Fiamma isn’t just a job, a duty, or a forbidden temptation. She’s everything.

We step out and slump against each other, the steam still surrounding us. I hold her close, my nose buried in her wet hair, her face against my chest. I can feel her heart racing in tandem with mine, and in this moment, it feels like we’re one entity, one soul, bound together by something far greater than either of us could have imagined.

As our breathing slowly returns to normal, I realize that in the act of bringing death to someone else, I’ve somehow managed to breathe life into myself through her.

It’s a strange, almost ironic revelation, but it’s one that I can’t deny. She’s changed me, irrevocably and irrefutably, and I know that from this moment forward, my life will never be the same.

TWELVE

Fiamma

The soft chirping of a bird pulls me from sleep, and I blink against the pale light filtering through the window. A red bird sits perched on the branch just outside, its bright feathers standing out against the snowy backdrop. For a moment, everything feels so still, like the world outside has paused, letting me appreciate the beautiful scene Mother Nature painted over the night.

I shift slightly, careful not to wake Luca, who’s sleeping beside me. His face is relaxed, his breathing steady, and I can’t help but marvel at how peaceful he looks. It’s strange to think that just a few days ago, I was running from him, seeing him as the enemy, when he’s anything but.

I almost laugh to myself, remembering how determined I was to escape from him that first night here. Now, here he is, lying next to me, the only person who’s ever made me feel like I could trust someone completely. He’s the opposite of an enemy—he’s my protector, someone who has been able to touch a piece of me no man before him has.

I glance out the window, the snow-covered trees sparkling under the faint light of the morning as my friend flies away. Christmas is creeping closer by the hour, but it feels like it is a time of joy for other people. It’s almost like something happening in a story I’m reading, but not experiencing directly.

Still, the holiday season is upon us, quietly present. The snow and stillness add to the sense of warmth and intimacy in the room.

Luca stirs beside me, but he doesn’t wake. I take a moment to watch him, feeling something stir deep in my belly. It’s a strange, warm feeling—something I haven’t let myself feel before.

Love.

Is that what this is?

I’ve always felt like I was under someone’s thumb. Elio, my brother, God bless him, always thinks he knows what’s best for me. Massimo is the same, and before him, my father, who died far too young in a tragic accident.

I was only nine at the time. Fortunately, or maybe unfortunately, I’ve never had any shortage of strong male figures ready to step in and do what they thought was necessary to protect me.

Maybe that’s why all the men in my life feel like they have to be a father figure to me, because my father was so domineering and then gone in the snap of a finger. Most young girls who lose their fathers look for a replacement. I’ve always wished I didn’t have so many.

I think it’s why I’ve always rebelled, why I’ve always done things my own way, no matter the consequences, andtested the limits of the boundaries set for me. I have always felt smothered, controlled.

But with Luca… it’s different. Being with him doesn’t feel like he’s treating me like an unruly child. It feels like I can finally let go. Relax. Lean into him. It’s almost as if we could forge a path together, a contrast to me always feeling like I have to push against something.

I can’t believe I’m feeling this way, especially after everything that’s happened. Being kidnapped, working together with him to take down Marco… It’s all brought us closer in a way I didn’t expect. I never thought I’d find myself here, lying next to this man, feeling something so real, so intense in such a short time.

I watch him sleep, his chest rising and falling with each breath, and I wonder… Is there a future for us? Can there be, in the world we live in? Or is that just a fantasy, something I shouldn’t even let myself hope for?

Then my stomach growls, breaking the silence, and I can’t help but grin. Or maybe it’s because I didn’t eat dinner last night.

Typical.

I let out a soft laugh, careful not to disturb Luca, and lean back against the pillows. Things are getting heavy, sure, but humor has always been my way of keeping it together. Right now, I need that lightness—something to keep me from overthinking what all of this means.

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