Page 65 of Sworn to My Heart
His groan of pain echoes in my ears as his weight is lifted off me and another pair of hands picks me up.
“Luca, get here now. it’s Alin.” That’s the last thing I hear as my head tilts back and everything fades away.
Alin
I force my eyes open, and my vision returns, though it’s still blurry. I try to get up, but I can’t. I remember that my body is paralyzed. Tears begin to fall from my eyes uncontrollably. I feel a leather surface rubbing against my back and try to sharpen my vision to understand where I am. I manage to recognize Luca’s familiar and beloved scent and see his back as he beats someone in front of me. I try to speak, but his name barely escapes my lips, “Lu...ca.”
He stops and turns to look at me suddenly, rushing to me as his eyes land on my face. In a moment, I feel the warmth of his hands on my neck. “Are you okay? That son of a bitch drugged your drink. What did the fucker do to you?” he asks with concern, but I can hear the monster within him speaking. I feel no pity for the man who did this to me. And I still won’t when Luca finds him.
“I... I can’t... move,” I reply with great difficulty, and Luca gently strokes my hair. “I know,” he says, kissing my forehead. The warmth of his lips immediately soothes me.
Without turning my head, I hear him suddenly step forward, moving away from me, and kick something so hard that a loud scream and a choked plea echo in the room. I immediately recognize that voice; it’s the man who grabbed me at the club.I force my eyes open again with the only strength I can muster. No, no, no, what am I doing here? Where are we? I can barely speak, and my body isn’t responding. I have no way to protect myself. As the feeling of helplessness strikes me again, tears return to wet my cheeks, and I feel my pulse rising to the point where I can hear my own heartbeat.
“No! He’ll rape me! Get him away from me!” I scream with the last little strength left in my body before collapsing again, overwhelmed by another wave of weakness.
I wake up wrapped in a soft silk blanket caressing my naked body. Persistent sun rays irritate my eyes, but Luca’s familiar scent fills my nose again. I’m sure now, I’m back in Luca’s room. I breathe deeply with relief, and a cool shiver runs through my body like a current, accompanied by nausea and a sharp headache.
I turn and carefully sit on the edge of the bed. Luca’s hand suddenly strokes my back. “How are you feeling?” he asks with concern, but I can hear the relief in his voice. I turn to him carefully, my head feeling like it’s about to explode at any moment, remembering the events of the night, at least until I collapsed in another man’s arms. I can’t remember anything after that. Tears start to flow from my eyes. Why am I crying again?
I look at him and my silence probably gives him the answer to his question. He sits in front of me, wiping my tears with his finger.
“That son of a bitch paid for what he did, rest assured,” he informs me through gritted teeth, lowering his hand from my face, clenching it into a fist, his veins bulging. I gently cradle his fist in my hands, and he immediately relaxes it.
For the first time in my life, I begged a man for help. He didn’t disappoint me; he really came to save me.
I lay my head on his chest and find comfort in my man.
“I cut off his fingers one by one and pulled out some of his teeth before I killed him,” he lifts my face to look into his eyes and declares. His primitive way of making it clear that he’ll always protect me. Who would have believed that such a gruesome description of torture could suddenly sound so romantic? I smile at him in satisfaction as he continues to tell me that the bastard begged for mercy, repeatedly insisting he hadn’t managed to do anything and hadn’t touched me at all.
“When you screamed that he was going to rape you, I lost it. I killed him on the spot. No one touches my woman,” my caveman declares with his characteristic possessiveness, and I lightly kiss his lips. I don’t care how much red there is in his world; he always comes back to me. He always protects me in his own twisted way.
“I can’t remember anything after he...” I stop as I recall the touch of his fingers invading my sensitive area. My face immediately contorts in disgust, a shiver accompanied by a nausea that now tickles my throat. “After he what?” he whispered ominously, sounding like he knows there’s something he doesn’t know. He’s really good at reading people.
“Yesterday...” I say, swallowing hard, forcing down the bile in my throat. “I couldn’t move or understand what was happening around me. He lifted me and shoved his fingers... I’ve never felt so cheap and helpless in my life...” I answer honestly, feeling as if a giant bubble that had blocked my breath burst in my chest, and the faucet of tears won’t stop flowing. My skin is already sensitive and burning from crying as I wipe away the tears that escaped with my hands.
His gray eyes darken, it seems the devil is taking over them again.
“I couldn’t do anything, I just prayed someone would come,that you would come to save me from him...” I continue, “After that, I remember him falling with a scream, and another man picked me up in his arms, and from there everything became blurry.” I don’t take my eyes off the storm brewing in his gray eyes now, waiting cautiously for his reaction like a ticking time bomb. He already killed him, he has no reason to rage again. Right?
He breaks the brief silence with a strong punch that lands on the nightstand next to the bed, nearly shattering it.
“That son of a bitch shoved his fingers inside you? Why did I kill him, I should have kept him alive... I should have cut every piece of his fucking body,” he jumps out of the bed quickly, searching for his weapon in the nightstand drawer with fury, loading it.
“I’m going after his boss. Those French bastards will pay,” he declares, buttoning up his shirt that had been opened, exposing his chest until now. The French? The man from last night works with the French? Why would they attack now? I get out of bed after him, the cold air from the room’s air conditioner meeting my skin as the blanket no longer covers me. I quickly move toward him before he can leave the room and hug him from behind, savoring the warmth of his body.
“Luca, it’s over. You killed him and protected me. That’s enough,” I plead, not wanting him to go on another killing spree and leave me now.
I feel his heavy breathing as he stops, and I run my hand over the part of his chest that remains exposed.
Slowly, I lower my hand to the zipper of his pants, and before I can touch him, he turns to me, grabbing my face possessively.
“The black dress from last night? I burned it. You will never dress like that in front of other men again!” he declares with a growl, his lips crashing onto mine in an instant, kissing mefiercely as if marking his territory, and immediately biting my lower lip hard.
A small cry of pain escapes my lips, but I wait for his next move, knowing this is his primitive way of dealing with his emotions. His lips don’t leave mine, licking the sore spot as his hands cup my buttocks just before he lifts me. I wrap my legs around his back and my arms around his neck to avoid falling.
My heart can’t contain the excitement surging through my body whenever he touches me. He sits me on the edge of the bed, and before he can push me backward, I decide to take matters into my own hands. I push his chest back slightly, unzip his pants, never breaking eye contact, and pulls it down along with his boxer briefs that clung to his erection, threatening to tear the fabric.
The storm in his eyes seems to clear a bit, and he’s battling his emotions, waiting for my next move. Maybe I can calm him down with a different kind of release before he goes on another murder mission.
