"Yes," she moans, and it almost sounds like she's begging for it.
I shouldn't, but I reach between her legs anyway. I slap her thighs apart and she starts breathing so hard she can barely keep herself up. I toy with the skin on the inside of her leg for a while before I slide a finger between her pussy lips, over her panties.
"Soaked," I tell her unnecessarily, and she whimpers, thrusting her hips out at me.
I let go of her, and she crumples to the floor in a little heap. "Get out of here, Cara," I tell her darkly, and it takes her a moment to pick herself up. For a moment, she's just a sullen teenager who's pissed at the world and then some. But the look she gives me, so broken and sad, almost makes me call her back. But this is what I have to do. I have to deal with her attitude, I have to break her down slowly but surely until she's the perfect toy. Only when that's done will I allow myself to play with her.
She walks out of the atelier on shaky legs, and she doesn't look over her shoulder as she leaves. I close the door behind her firmly, and get to work.
I prepare my colors and paints and a fresh canvas on my easel. I imagine the sight of her the way I saw her last night, after I stripped her and put her to bed following our little playing session. The way her naked back was turned towards me, the yearning look she gave me over her shoulder as she pulled a sheet over her nakedness and buried herself inside the bed, with me sitting on the armchair. So close, but so far from her at the same time.
I take my brushes out and I start to paint.
TIME GETS AWAY FROM ME, and I barely notice anything going on around me. I do realize it's getting dark outside, and that's my clue to finally stop painting as I prefer the natural light of the sun when I work. I admire what I've done so far before stripping off my paint-stained shirt and walking out into the library without a tee.
I head out into the hallway and into my wing of the house, taking a long, ice cold shower to clear my fucking head. The pinpricks of the cold water against my pores are torture, but I tell myself I need them for ruining my plan.
Cara and I weren't supposed to kiss today, but I fell for her charms like some teenage sucker. I decide I need to get back at her for what she did, and as I get dressed in slacks and a simple button-down shirt, I intend on doing just that.
However, when I walk outside of my bathroom, I find Luca sitting comfortably on the couch in my room, grinning at me as I walk out of the room.
"Hello," he tells me smoothly. "I thought it was high time I said hello to daddy dearest."
"What the fuck do you want?" I ask him, barely able to contain my anger. I towel dry my wet hair and throw the used towel on my bed. "I don't have time for your shit right now."
"You're not going to say hello to the prodigal son?" he asks me, feigning shock. "I've been home for two days now and you haven't deigned me with your presence."
I stand in front of him, crossing my arms and glaring at him.
"Alright, alright." Luca laughs and gets up. He's not as tall as me, but he has filled out over the year, since I last saw him. "I see you've brought in a tasty treat for yourself for the summer. Cara, is it?"
I approach him menacingly, saying, "You stay the fuck away from her."
"It's her that's having trouble staying away from me," he grins, smoothing a hand through his dark hair. He looks so much like me it's unnerving. "She thinks I'm her little penpal boyfriend."
I can feel the color draining out of my face, and the little prick has the nerve to laugh at me. "Some fucking game you're playing, old man. Better not ruin anything for you, then."
"What do you want?" I hiss, because clearly, this is about one thing only. He wants something in exchange for staying away from Cara, from letting me do whatever the fuck I want with my girl.
"Twenty grand," he says simply. "In my account, tomorrow."
"Done," I tell him coolly. "Now get the fuck out of my face."
"It will do," he nods, grinning at me. "For now."
"What the hell are you doing home, anyway?" I ask him roughly. "Weren't you supposed to spend the summer with some friend?"
Luca shrugs. "Apparently, the family frowns upon people deflowering their virgin daughter. You know I have a thing for virgins. Must run in the family."
He squarely avoids my punch, and with those words, he leaves my room. I curse out loud, punching a wall instead. Blood runs down my knuckles, but there's no sign in the wall - this house is a solid stone and brick build. Still, Luca has me worried. He could fuck everything up with the wrong word.
I don't know what came over me when I used his name to play with Cara. I didn't think he would be at the house this summer, and his sudden arrival has changed everything.
If he fucks up things with Cara, so help me God, I will kill him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
CARA
I HAVEN'T SEEN either Mason or Luca in a few days now, ever since that kiss in the atelier. I still can't believe I did that, kissed my father's friend in a way that would make any girl blush. I feel embarrassed, but I also feel angry, because he hasn't sought me out once since then even though I was certain he was going to punish me again. But maybe this was his punishment - ignoring me completely and letting me be all on my own.
Luca was a mystery in my eyes. Ever since we met in the garden, he hadn't replied to any of my texts or messages. Not that I sent too many - I had been too preoccupied worrying about Mason. But I still had no idea what he was doing on Mason's property or who exactly he was. He simply told me Mason would explain everything soon, but as for now, I am still clueless.
I find myself spending more and more time in the gardens. There hasn't been a single expedition into town since I've been here, which I'm bitter about. I thought this whole summer was supposed to be about me exploring Italy, and so far, I've barely seen any of it. I am mostly left to myself, and so I decide to explore the grounds of the property, always feeling Filippe's watchful eyes on my back. I haven't wandered back to the secret garden in a long time now, even though I feel the pull of the place on my soul. But I decide to respect the wishes of the man of the house. Besides, I'm too terrified he'll punish me again if he catches me there, anyway.
I eat dinner alone again for the third day in a row. I'm about to head back into my room when Luca walks inside the dining room, his walk confident, his broad shoulders held back and a winning smile on his face. Instead of feeling that surge of heat between my legs, the one that always happens when I read his messages, I feel something I can only describe as fear. It jabs my heart and I clear my
throat, hoping Luca didn't notice anything.
"Where have you been lately?" I ask him, getting up from my seat at the table. He blocks my way and I give him an almost scared look. He's intimidating in a much different way than Mason. He plain creeps me out sometimes, while Mason makes my pussy drip with a single look, sending anticipation and fear through my veins at the same time.
"Busy," Luca says, stealing some garlic bread from my plate and chewing. "I'm curious, do you know who I am yet?"
"Luca," I say simply, and my voice shakes. For someone who I've exchanged hundreds of messages with, he seems like a complete stranger. "I assume you work with Mason? Maybe like an apprentice, or an assistant?"
He laughs heartily and gives me a doubtful look, saying, "You can't honestly believe that."
"No one's told me a thing," I protest wildly. "You've both just left me to fend for myself, pretending I'm not even here!"
All of a sudden, Luca's hand sneaks up the side of my body and his fingers grip my throat. I mewl, but it doesn't feel sexy. It feels wrong instead, and I clench my legs shut, worried about his next move already. "Please," I manage to get out. "Don't hurt me."
"Why shouldn't I?" he growls in my face, and for the first time, I see the almost animalistic quality in his gaze. He looks dangerous, not in a way that would make me excited, but in one that makes me shiver with fear. "There's no one here to stop me."
"Get your fucking hands off her."
Luca looks over his shoulder lazily, never giving up the grip on my throat. Mason's standing behind him, shooting him looks that could kill. "Or what, old man?" he asks him, and I laugh at the ridiculous insult. Mason is probably on the younger side of thirty, closer to Luca's age than my father's. "You can't keep me away from her forever."
Mason approaches us both and I squeeze my eyes tightly shut as he peels Luca's hand off me and throws him against the wall. I hear someone shriek and only a moment later come to realize the sound came from my mouth. Mason has Luca pinned against the wall, the two men glaring at each other like they're exchanging a silent dialogue I'm not privy to.