L'amore: The Luminara Series

by SJ Molloy

  “I will be fine. Mum, are you …?”

  “Yes, don’t you worry about me. I’ll be all right. We will all be fine. Just focus on you and your baby.”

  I don’t care that she’s said it in front of Lloyd because her heart is in the right place.

  I wish I could pull her over into my lap and caress her the same way Lucca is doing for me, to give her some comfort.

  The ringing of Lucca’s phone startles me, and he answers it almost immediately.

  “Yes, is it ready? … Good … Yes, the ladies may want to sleep … Good … Negative … Yes, four … Passports are with me … No fucking about, Claude, ensure she is ready to go, ETA thirty minutes … yes, it is fucking imperative … I understand … refreshments yes, food, blankets, and one cabin crew member only … Yes, off radar and no manifest … CID, security, and the case specialists are more than aware, all above board … Claude … Thanks.”

  He disconnects as another call comes through.

  It’s Marco who he gives further instructions regarding the enhanced security and details of our flight. Then he speaks with Cameron to ensure that he, Hazel, Dominic, and Anna leave my house in Uddingston and move into Lucca’s temporarily where there is adequate security.

  Shivering from fright and because my feet are bare, I lift them up on the seat and place them under my ass. Lucca takes his suit jacket off and slips it over me, realising I’m shaking and cold.

  He continues making his calls to Peter, Antonio, and Giorgio—his business partner at his Luminara chain—and finally another to Suzanne.

  “Are we going to Inverness airport?” I whisper when his calls have finished.

  “No, we are going to a private airfield nearby. We should be arriving shortly.” He kisses my forehead.

  “How did you get my passport?” I ask.

  “I brought them with me out of habit. I always carry mine in case I need to fly for business at short notice.”

  “We’re not going on a standard flight are we?” I ask, parting my dry lips.

  “No, we are not.”

  “Then how?”

  “My private jet. I have chartered it before for business use, but decided to buy it for us and it will be utilised as a company jet as well. When we returned from Tuscany and we were on the flight, it got me thinking that I would like you to be more comfortable and have privacy, and with my business we will need to do a lot of travel.” He sighs, running his fingers through my hair, peeling the salty wet strands away from my cheeks.

  I’m not surprised he has bought a jet. I’m only thankful Lucca has the means to protect me like he can and get us out the country quickly.

  “I have no shoes on,” I whisper, ashamed. Through all the turmoil and drama, I think of my feet. I think of running barefoot, I think of the bush and trying to escape. I cry.

  I’m trying to escape. I’m running through the bush.

  He’s chasing me ... he’s shouting at me ... my bare feet are hurting and bleeding.

  It’s dark ... it’s hot.

  I’m scared.

  I can’t get away.

  I need to get away.

  I panic, crying uncontrollably against Lucca’s chest. He hushes me and calms me and tells me to keep focus and be brave.

  “Do not fret about your feet, baby, that is the least of our worries. You can shower and change on the flight. We are here,” he says, holding my hand while looking out the window scanning the area.

  Shower? Like shower, as in running hot water in a cubicle shower? Oh my goodness this night is just getting crazier by the second. I wipe my tear stained face and try to gain some composure.

  I’ve been too busy fretting about my bare feet to notice we’re in a secluded airfield. We drive across the tarmac approaching a sleek, private jet with Osurac in bold capital letters on the side, and the engine noise intensifies as we edge nearer to it. Mum glances back towards me and gives me a reassuring nod, but I see in her eyes, she’s just as petrified as me.

  It’s the look, the “be a big brave girl and you’ll get a gold star” look.

  Lucca unclasps my belt, rushes outside, and shakes hands with two smart men and a beautiful female.

  Oh, just great. I look like I’ve been in a car crash or bushfire and have no footwear on, and she’s like an air flight angel standing like a model from the frequent flyer magazine.

  Lloyd passes his car keys over to another man waiting nearby in a smart suit speaking into a mouth piece. Lloyd lifts the luggage from the boot of the car.

  “Can you bring the suitcases on board please, Lloyd?” Lucca shouts over the revving engine. Lloyd nods and proceeds to lift the cases up the ramp into the aircraft as opposed to the hold.

  Lucca opens my door and I have to grab onto the bottom of my chiffon dress to prevent it from riding up thanks to the forceful gust of wind from the engines. He scoops me up in his arms, and I wrap my arms around his neck as my wild, wavy hair flies everywhere. Then he climbs the stairs with me into the jet.

  Walking past the cockpit and crew kitchen and another private room, we settle in the main cabin. He sits me on a leather reclining bucket seat, and he takes the seat in front. Mum and Lloyd take seats on the other side.

  Looking around, I find there are empty seats behind us and a huge lounge at the back with a modern corner sofa, plasma television, bar, dining table, and study area. There’s a closed door in front of us and also towards the back further down the cabin.

  The interiors are ultra-modern and not what I would expect to find on an aircraft, but then this is not any ordinary aircraft. There are comfortable lime green pillows, blankets and cushions, modern accessories, and lots of state-of-the-art equipment. It looks more like an exquisite suite at an upper class hotel than a plane.

  Claude is the captain, Eric is the co-pilot, and Bethany is the flight attendant. Lucca passes over all four passports for inspection, and Claude casually pats him on his shoulder in a friendly gesture. He turns to address us all, giving the mandatory “welcome aboard” speech, then Claude shakes everyone’s hand and walks off to the cockpit followed by Eric.

  Bethany performs her safety demonstration, then disappears for take-off. She returns shortly after with bottles of water and some savoury snacks. She offers Mum and Lloyd some champagne. Lloyd refuses while on duty, but Mum takes one and throws it back then takes another.

  I frown towards Mum. She says she called Casey and she’s told her to take sleeping tablets with her other prescription drugs to avoid any episodes or anxiety on the flight. Mum’s eyes are rolling in her head already, and I know she’ll be out cold soon. Lloyd sips his water then places earphones in his ears.

  Lucca pinches his forehead, contemplating what he wants. “Bethany, I will have a Peroni and a chaser of double Macallan Scotch, no ice please.”

  Fuck!

  File - W for whiskey. Whiskey is the devil.

  He’s struggling, I know, but I don’t want him to get sloshed, not when I need him.

  He needs me.

  I need him to be strong. I need to be strong for him.

  I have him.

  Bethany returns with our drinks, and Lucca asks for another double scotch. I turn away so he doesn’t catch my distaste. He hasn’t spoken to me since we got on board, and there’s an oppressive silence between us. I’ve seen this behaviour before, and it scares me, but I love him and I’m willing to forgive his stressed-induced alcohol intake if this helps him deal with what’s happening.

  “Bethany, can you show me where I can use the bathroom please?” I follow her into a private bedroom when I satisfied Mum is sleeping.

  Wow.

  Under normal circumstances, I would be starstruck by this amazing bedroom with a full size bed and all the expensive hi-tech, modern conveniences, but I’m too dispirited to appreciate it.

  She shows me the shower room and lets me know where my luggage has been stored then instructs me how to use the stereo system and plasma TV.

  “I’ll give you s
ome privacy. If there is anything you need, press the call button over here.”

  “Thank you.”

  I drag my suitcase onto the bed with a heavy thump and pull out some clean clothes. I struggle with the weight, but I manage to lift the case onto the marble topped dressing table and strip out my dress.

  As I lean over the bed to find some toiletries, I hear the door open and the lock close. Before I get the chance to stand up, Lucca presses his body against mine, ramming his hard manhood against my ass and cupping both my heavy breasts.

  It’s very sudden but not unwelcome. My breath hitches in my throat, and I realise just how badly he needs and wants me. I’m giving myself to him and plan to rip my anxiety to shreds.

  To be numb …. to forget.

  No whiskey … just him.

  Just us … together.

  He pulls me back towards him with a fierce, strong prowess, and his hands skate over my body as he bites down on my shoulder, groaning with burning desire. He pulls my hair to the side and kisses and bites my neck while his hands rip my panties off my body.

  I’m lusting for him.

  Desperate.

  I want to make his pain subside. I want to make my pain subside.

  “Lucca, I want you to fuck me. Fuck me hard, fuck me so deep that your pain becomes pleasure. Don’t hold back,” I beg. This helped me in BarAsta after the Kimberley ordeal and I think it will help him tonight. To feel. To feel something other than fear and heartache.

  He spins me around and stares at me with dark, foreboding eyes full of anguish. “If you ask, you will get it, and I do not want to hurt you.”

  Desperation …

  I circle my hips and push my sex against his massive erection. He growls with deep carnal desire and unhooks my bra, freeing my tender breasts, then he picks me up and places me onto the bed. I watch as he strips his belt off and lowers his jeans and boxer briefs. His hard cock throbs with angry veins.

  And I’m angry to have it.

  Fuck!

  File A for angry. Angry is good. It numbs the pain.

  He kneels on the bed and I expect his shaft to plunge straight into me, but he waits, tormented by mixed emotions. He leans over me and his tongue dives into my mouth, fighting with my own tongue in a battle of indecency as he finger fucks me with three fingers.

  Relentless.

  “So wet, baby,” he slurs into my mouth. I push my hips to meet his hand cupping my sex. His breath is laced with single malt sherry oak, and I almost feel drunk as I taste his tongue.

  When his thumb touches my nub and flicks my clit, I explode and scream into his mouth. He swallows my screams by continuing the onslaught of his tongue. I am drunk, in scotch, sensitivity, and surging sensations that spark through my veins.

  When I’ve jerked and twitched through the last of my orgasm, he slides his fingers out of me and rubs them across my bottom lip.

  “Lick,” he demands. His eyes have once again lost their bright blue hue and are now cloudy grey. I want him to fuck me so badly so that I paint colour back into those eyes.

  I slip my tongue out and seductively trail it across my moist lips then reach up and grab his fingers with my teeth and suck hard on them.

  “Good.”

  I stifle a sharp yell, his fingers still in my mouth, as he bites down on my hardened nipples, assaulting each nipple in turn. It throws me into another eye rolling orgasm when the fingers of his other hand torment my clit and slides back into my sex.

  “Lucca, please I want you.”

  His gaze twists up a storm in those cloudy eyes. “I am sorry, baby.” He clenches his teeth with possession in his turbulent eyes.

  “Sorry for what?” I pant for air.

  “For this.”

  He growls, flipping me over onto all fours. Then he slams into me with such force I cry and bite down on my lip being shunted further up the bed with every hard blow and ram. He pumps me hard and strong, each time assaulting my core as he impales his angry shaft inside me.

  Violently.

  He grabs my hips, yanking me back and slamming deeper into my womb with his abusive intrusion.

  His hand moves back to my nipple, he pinches it hard and I groan with the intense pleasure rippling through me which builds me up towards another peak of ecstasy. With his next deep shudder, his hand meets my ass with a hard fast slap as he throatily groans my name. I bite on my arm to muffle my cry as my eyes ears fill with water; the stinging sensation takes me off guard at first until an intense jolt of pleasure courses through me. He doesn’t stop until he stills inside me rubbing my ass cheek then leans over to kiss my back.

  Once we have come down slightly from our climax, I reach around and grope his balls, massaging them, and feel his still erect cock twitch and expand inside me.

  “Again?” he rasps sexily.

  “Yes,” I moan. I want it. I want more of it.

  Pleasure.

  Pain.

  I don’t want him to stop. I need it.

  More.

  Lots more.

  I wiggle and circle my hips, encouraging him to move with me even though my legs are shaking still from our first round. He makes a low groaning noise then slowly picks up rhythm.

  Oh God. It feels so good.

  “Harder, deeper!” I demand then scream when his fingers dig into my skin with another intense, penetrative stroke inside me. I do want the carnality; I do want him to have me this way. If this helps him feel and gives me what I want then yes. I want it.

  He’s rasping, besieged with wild breath. He forces every painful emotion into every thrust. He’s pushing me to an explosive orgasm. Clenching my tight walls around him, the pressure builds inside me.

  His fingers flick over my swollen clit, then using the arousal from my damp sex he spreads it to lubricate my rear entrance and pushes his finger in. Trembling with the intense feeling, my eyes roll in my head as I grip all around him. He orders me to touch my clit and squeeze a nipple. I do. With his next slam inside me, his hand meets my other ass cheek with a hard slap at the same time his finger presses into my back entrance, my fingers flicks my clit and squeezes my nipple.

  I erupt in an explosive orgasm.

  I scream his name through a reckless climax. I continue to buck and quiver with wave after wave of stimulated pleasure from my orgasm. “Fuck, Lucca, mmm!” I cry, feeling a violent rush rippling through me.

  “Shhh, relax. I have you. Breathe baby.”

  “Yes.” I pant breathlessly, coasting through this sensational feeling.

  Groaning.

  Cursing.

  Mumbling.

  He picks up rhythm. I’m a slave for him.

  He controls each thrust with more power as I push my hips back to accept more of his girth and length. He drives me forward but I’m not sure how much more my shaky muscles can take.

  “Jesus, fuck, so fucking unbelievable. You are driving me wild. You feel sensational.” He plunges deep inside me again with force. “That bastard will never hurt you again,” he moans, letting his rage and distress tear through him.

  I asked for it, and he keeps true to his word—he fucks my core like his life depends on it.

  “Touch your clit,” he orders, pounding into me again. My muscles contract around him.

  I can’t. I’m still exhilarated from my last orgasms.

  “I am close … goddamn it, Lexi, touch your clit. I need you to come!”

  I barely need to touch I’m still so sensitive.

  Oh my holy God … intense, sensational pleasure.

  Seconds later, I come undone, screaming and erupting into a mind-blowing shattering orgasm like nothing else I’ve ever felt before. Lucca shouts my name, followed by a string of curses as he fills me with his second release.

  I’ve never climaxed so violently.

  Numb.

  Weak.

  Sated.

  Euphoria.

  We collapse face down on the aircraft bed, panting, breathless, drenched in sweat, slick
with body juices, and utterly spent. We lie for some time, silent other than the sound of our breath. I’m on my stomach facing the dressing table, away from Lucca, with my cheek resting on the mattress.

  Dazed.

  My legs are spread wide on the mattress because I’m simply too weak to move them. My ass cheeks feel tingly and inside my legs are soaked with the cream of our passion.

  Lucca has vigorously abused me with his sexual prowess, and I devoured it. I enjoyed being subjected to such rough sex, and it helped me ignore my fear this evening. I only hope it’s done the same for Lucca because I hate seeing him in pain.

  I’ve had no less than eight orgasms today—worthy of eight days of sleep as my body has been on a climaxathon. Tiredness prevails. I may just need medical attention, perhaps an intravenous drip of pure glucose to help me recover from today.

  Lucca’s arms are draped over my back. “Lexi?” he asks once he’s caught his own breath.

  I can’t respond. I’m so sleepy.

  Scotch.

  Sensitivity.

  Sedative solace.

  “Lexi?” he asks again. When I don’t answer, he turns around to snuggle his head against my neck and hooks a leg over my ass and back rubbing my ass cheek tenderly.

  “Lexi, baby, answer me,” he pleads.

  Silence.

  “Jesus fuck, Lexi, shit.”

  He shakes my shoulder gently, then flips me over and straddles my waist in a swift moment. Cupping my face in both hands, he hovers over me.

  “Fuck, no. Baby, did I hurt you? I never meant to hurt you. I am sorry, Lexi. Jesus, I am sorry,” he cries. “Please, talk to me. I am sorry.”

  Closing my eyes, I fall deeper into the skies below—weightless.

  “Oh shit. Did I hurt you? Did I hurt our baby?” He’s alarmed and I need him calm.

  With my eyes hooded, I mutter, “No, you didn’t hurt me. I asked for it. I wanted to help you fight against your pain.”

  “Jesus, that does not excuse what I did to you. Causing you pain only hurts me more. Open your eyes, please. I am so sorry.”

  I’m wounded to see his azure blue eyes have not returned, but they are no longer grey. They’ve changed to a pale, white-blue colour, just like the clouds we fly through. It’s not enough. I want azure.