Filed to story: Bound by Honor (Aria & Luca) Drama Story
I lowered my arms. “You fucked a woman in front of my eyes today. Do you think there’s still a chance for this marriage?”
“I didn’t want you to see that.”
“Why? So you could cheat in peace and quiet behind my back?”
He sighed, and began unbuttoning his shirt. “Let me take a shower. You were right. I shouldn’t disrespect you further by touching you like this.”
I shrugged. Right now I didn’t think I’d ever want him to touch me again, no matter how many showers he took. He disappeared in the bathroom. The shower ran for a long time. I sat against the headboard, sheets pulled up to my hip when Luca finally emerged. I averted my eyes when he dropped his towel and put on boxer shorts, then he slipped into bed beside me with his back against the headboard. He didn’t try to touch me. “Did you cry?” he asked in a puzzled voice.
“Did you think I wouldn’t care?”
“Many women in our world are glad when their husbands use whores or take on a mistress. As you said, there are few love marriages. If a woman can’t stand her husband’s touch, she won’t mind him having affairs to satisfy his needs.”
I scoffed. “His needs.”
“I’m not a good man, Aria. I never pretended otherwise. There are no good men in the mafia.”
My eyes rested on the tattoo over his heart. “I know.” I swallowed. “But you made me think that I could trust you and that you wouldn’t hurt me.”
“I never hurt you.”
Did he really not get it? “It hurt seeing you with her.”
His expression softened. “Aria, I didn’t get the feeling that you wanted to sleep with me. I thought you’d be glad if I didn’t touch you.”
“When did I say that?”
“When I told you I wanted you, you pulled back. You looked disgusted.”
“We were kissing and you said you wanted to fuck me more than any other women. Of course, I pulled back. I’m not some whore you can use when you feel like it. You are never home. How am I supposed to get to know you?” He looked frustrated. Mafia men seemed even more clueless than normal men. “What did you think? I’ve never done anything. You are the only man I kissed. You knew that when we married. You and my father even made sure it was the case, and despite that you expect me to go from never even having kissed a guy to spreading my legs for you. I wanted to take it slow. I wanted to get to know you so I could relax, I wanted to kiss you and do other things first before we slept together.”
Realization finally settled on his features, then he smirked. “Other things? What kind of other things?”
I glared. I wasn’t in the mood for jokes. “This is useless.”
“No, don’t.” He turned my face back to him, then dropped his hand. He’d learned his lesson. “I get it. For men the first time isn’t a big deal, or at least it wasn’t for the men I know.”
“When was your first time?”
“I was thirteen and my father thought it was time for me to become a real man since I’d already been initiated. ‘You can’t be a virgin and a killer’. That’s what he said.” Luca smiled coldly. “He paid two noble prostitutes to spend a weekend with me and teach me everything they knew.”
“That’s horrible.”
“Yeah, I suppose it is,” Luca said quietly. “But I was a thirteen year old teenage boy who wanted to prove himself. I was the youngest member in the New York Familia. I didn’t want the older men to think of me as a boy. And I felt like a big deal when the weekend was over. I doubt the prostitutes were overly impressed with my performance but they pretended that I was the best lover they’d ever had. My father probably paid them extra for it. It took me a bit to figure out that not all women like it if you come all over their face when they give you a blowjob.”
I wrinkled my nose and Luca let out a laugh. “Yeah,” he murmured, then reached for a strand of my hair, and let it glide over his finger. I wasn’t sure why he always did that. “I was really worried tonight.”
“Worried that I’d let someone have what’s yours.”
“No,” he said firmly. “I knew, I know you are loyal. Things with the Bratva are escalating. If they got their hands on you…” He shook his head.
“They didn’t.”
“They won’t.”
I shifted away from his hand that had moved on from my hair to my throat. I didn’t want his touch. He sighed. “You’re going to make this really difficult, aren’t you?”
I stared.
“I’m sorry for what you saw today.”
“But not sorry for what you did.”
He looked exasperated. “I rarely say I’m sorry. When I say it, I mean it.”
“Maybe you should say it more often.”
He took a deep breath. “There’s no way out of this marriage for you, neither for me. Do you really want to be miserable?”