Chapter 4 The First Lesson

CHAPTER 4: THE FIRST LESSON

"You want me to do what?" Amara asked, her voice half a tone away from a scream.

Luca didn't repeat himself. He just stood in the private training hall behind the mansion, concrete floors, mirrored walls and racks of gleaming weapons. Sweat clung to his bare chest, a line of it trailing down his torso and disappearing into his black pants. He was barefoot, calm and dangerous.

Amara swallowed, eyes flicking to the mat.

"You expect me to spar with you?"

Luca's mouth curled. "No sweetheart, I expect you to stop being useless."

She folded her arms across her chest. "And this is your idea of marital bonding?"

"This," he said, slowly circling her. "Is how I learn your weaknesses."

"I'm not one of your soldiers."

"No," he stopped behind her, voice dripping with danger. "You're my wife, and that makes you far more dangerous."

Her heart skidded.

He reached past her, and tossed a blade at her feet. "Pick it up."

She hesitated.

"I've never fought with a knife before."

"Then you're about to lose very beautifully."

Amara inhaled sharply. She bent down and picked up the weapon, fingers tight on the hilt.

Luca moved to the center of the mat and faced her, arms by his side. "Come at me."

"You're serious."

"Deadly."

Amara lunged forward, gripping the knife even tighter."

Luca dodged effortlessly, his movements fluid, almost catlike. He caught her wrist and spun her, pinning her back against his chest.

"Your movements are sloppy," he whispered into her ears. "Wrists too stiff, legs too close."

His hands curled around her fingers, adjusting her grip on the blade.

She stiffened.

"Relax," he said. "If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn't be correcting your form."

She twisted out of his grip and struck again, this time faster and stronger.

He caught her by the wrist and flipped her onto the mat.

Her breath shot out as her back hit the floor. He crouched beside her. "Better."

"Go to hell."

"Darling, I'm already there." he said with a smile, leaning over her.

Their eyes locked, neither of them moved. His hands pressed lightly against her stomach.

"If you're going to betray me," he said softly. "You should at least learn how to survive me."

She tried to rise, but he didn't let her. His hands slid higher, not threatening, exploring.

"You tremble when I touch you," he murmured, eyes hooded.

"I don't."

"You do, right.....here."

His thumb grazed the edge of her ribs slowly, barely a touch. Her breath leapt.

He lowered his mouth to her ear.

"But it's not fear, is it?"

Amara turned her head and caught his lips before she could stop herself. He didn't hesitate, he kissed her like he owned her mouth. Tongue, teeth, heat and no mercy. His body lowered against her fully, trapping her on the mat. The kiss wasn't romantic, it was brutal and demanding.

Her barcode arched and her legs parted involuntarily. She kissed him harder, biting his bottom lip, until he growled into her mouth. His hand slipped under the hem of her shirt, his bare hands on her skin. She gasped when he touched her stomach, but he didn't stop.

"Say it," he breathed. "Say you want me."

Her lips trembled slightly. "I...."

He pulled back abruptly. The absence of him hit her like cold water. She stared at him in a daze.

Luca stood, chest heaving and eyes burning down at her.

"Don't lie to me. Next time, I'll make you beg."

He walked out without glancing back at her.

Amara laid on the mat, her lips swollen, thighs clenched, breaths uneven. And for the first time since the wedding, she wasn't sure what she wanted more.

To kill him, or to let him devour her.