Chapter 3 His Rules

Chapter Three: His Rules

Aria didn't come down for dinner.

She couldn't.

Not after that kiss. Not after the way her knees had buckled when they should've stood firm. Her whole body had melted like it didn't know the difference between threat and desire - and she hated herself for it.

She'd grown up surrounded by powerful men. Cold voices. Silent pressure. She knew how to smile through discomfort. How to sit still and survive.

But Luca Alari wasn't like the others.

He didn't just dominate the room.

He owned it. Owned her. Or at least... acted like he did.

At midnight, a knock came at the door.

She stayed silent. Maybe he'd go away.

But of course he didn't.

The door opened anyway.

Luca stepped in like he had the right. Just slacks and a half-buttoned shirt clinging to his damp skin. Hair still wet from a shower, sleeves rolled, throat exposed.

He looked like a warning dressed as a fantasy.

Her stomach twisted.

"What do you want?" she snapped, voice sharper than her resolve.

He didn't answer right away. Just walked over to the bed and sat on the edge like he belonged there.

Like he belonged everywhere.

"You're under my roof now," he said finally. "Time to understand the rules."

"I'm not yours." The words came out fast. Too fast.

Luca tilted his head.

"That's the first lie."

She stood from the corner chair, arms crossed to hide her shaking hands. "I didn't choose you."

"Doesn't matter."

"You can't just keep me here."

"You'll stay," he said, low and sure. "Because part of you already wants to."

"Fuck you."

He smiled.

"Not yet."

He held out his hand.

"Come here, Aria."

"No."

His voice dropped. "Come... or I'll come get you."

Something in her throat caught. She should've stayed still. Should've screamed.

Instead, she walked.

Chin high, spine straight - not in submission. In defiance. But when she got close, he pulled her down onto his lap so fast she barely caught her breath.

His hands were firm, his chest warm and hard under her palms.

She hated how solid he felt.

How good he smelled.

"Rule one," he murmured, his mouth so close it brushed her cheek. "Don't lie to me. I'll always know."

She swallowed hard.

"Rule two. You don't run from me. You won't like what happens if you try."

His hand moved under the layers of her dress - slow, purposeful.

Her breath hitched. "Don't."

"You can say stop," he said. "I'll listen. Once."

Then his fingers found bare skin. Lace. Heat.

He stilled.

"No panties?" he murmured. "Bad little bride."

Her whole body stiffened. Then shuddered.

"I hate you," she whispered.

But her hips arched anyway - small, involuntary. A traitor's movement.

"I know," he said.

And then he slid his fingers inside her.

Not soft. Not rough. Just deep. Possessive.

Two thick fingers pushed in, slow and sure, while his thumb circled where it hurt to be touched - where it also felt so damn good she couldn't hold still.

She whimpered.

Her fingers curled into his shirt.

"No one's ever touched you like this, have they?"

She couldn't speak. Just shook her head, eyes wide and already wet.

"Good," he growled, his voice raw. "I want it all. Every first. Every sound. Every fucking pulse."

He went deeper, faster, his mouth brushing her ear, her throat, her jaw.

She moaned - helpless and shaking.

"Say it," he whispered. "Say you're mine."

She bit her lip so hard it hurt.

Shook her head again.

He didn't stop.

Didn't slow.

When she came, it hit hard - a cry, a gasp, a shattered sob muffled against his chest. Her thighs trembled. Her body clenched around his fingers like it didn't know how to let go.

She was undone.

Completely.

And he knew it.

Luca pulled his fingers from her slowly - dragging every ounce of pleasure out before he lifted them to his mouth.

He licked them clean.

Eyes locked on hers.

"Rule three," he said, low and final. "When I touch you... you come. That's mine now."

Then he set her down gently on the bed.

And left her there - wrecked, humiliated, still aching... and desperate for more.