I watch in horror, my throat so tight I have no hope of speaking. His throat works hard as he stares at himself, then he brings a hand up slowly, running a finger along the bruise.
“Oh,” he whispers, eyes glued to the spot.
“I’m so sorry,” I say again, my chest threatening to cave in on me. “Are you okay? I really didn’t mean to. I know that’s no excuse, but I—” I cut myself off because really, what defense is there?
He nods, eyes still glued to the dark hickey. It’s fascinating in a way, how hard he’s studying it. For a long, tense moment, he doesn’t move, and dread churns through my bloodstream.
When his eyes find mine in the mirror, his blown pupils almost bowl me over. “Luca?” I croak.
“It’s…” He looks back at himself again, grazing a finger over it once more. “I like it,” he whispers.
I’m stunned. “What?”
He turns, and when he does, it’s easy to see just how much he means those words. He steps toward me, molding himself to my body and pressing his cock against my thigh. “It’s okay?” I ask, feeling stupid for needing the reassurance.
“I want more.”
It takes a second to process his words, and when I do, I’m not sure I heard him right. I grip his arm gently, pushing him back so I can look at his face. “You want more?”
He blinks up at me, lust and desire swimming in his eyes. There’s really something to be said for that look, for the way his eyes are heavy-lidded, boring into mine. “Yeah…” The word is only a breath, disappearing between us the second he says it. “I want to be covered in your marks.”
He doesn’t even give me a chance to answer before he’s turning back to the mirror, studying his throat again.
“I used to be ashamed,” he whispers. “Every mark Damien left on my skin was proof. Proof that I wasn’t good enough. That something was wrong with me. That I deserved pain and punishment.” He takes a slow, even breath. “It was proof of his hatred for me, andeven worse… of my hatred of myself.”
He finds my eyes in the mirror. “Each mark was proof, Austin. That my body had become a shrine—an altar—to his rage. And to my shame.”
“This, though?” He stares at the mark, then turns to look at me. “This is like… fuck, I don’t know. It’s a different kind of proof. I want more,” he repeats. “I want to be covered in your marks. I want the memory of your touch to live on me. I want to see the proof in the mirror. New proof.”
“Proof of what?” I choke out, my throat so tight I can hardly speak.
Luca takes a step toward me, closing in on my space. “Your love.”
My love.
“I’ve been a shrine to ugly things, Austin. Now I want to be a shrine to you.”
I wrap an arm around his waist, dragging him in until he’s flush against my body. “Tell me exactly what you want, baby.”
He lets his head fall back, exposing the long column of his throat to me. “I want you to mark me. With your mouth and your teeth. I want to replace the memory of my shame with love instead. Your love.”
God, I want that too. Not even just because it turns me on, although it does, but because I want to give him what he wants. I want to give himanythinghe wants. Always. From now until the end of time. I dip my head, dragging my nose along the spot I left on his throat. “I want to take my time with you,” I whisper. “Go get back in bed, okay?”
For a second, he doesn’t move, but I don’t need to be looking at him to know it’s not hesitance because he’s afraid. He’s not moving because he doesn’t want to. He wants to linger. I know it like I knowmy own name, and I feel the same way.
So instead of asking him to move or rushing him along, I take a few minutes to lave my tongue over the mark on his throat, to kiss it and him. I slide my fingers into his hair, cradling the side of his head as he whimpers into my mouth.
When he pulls away, he smiles at me, then slips past me and into the bedroom. I give myself a few moments to breathe. This feels monumental. Luca is trusting me with something precious, and I have no desire to fuck it up. The amount of trust he’s giving me is… fuck. I just don’t want to mess it up.
When I’ve collected myself, I step into the bedroom to find Luca lying on his back in the center of the bed, his cock hard and flushed against his stomach.
I truly have no idea how I got this lucky. How I was so blessed to have him. I must have done something really fucking good in a past life.
I crawl over him, holding my weight off his body with a hand braced on either side of his head. “Are you sure?”
He nods. “I’m sure.”
I search his face, but there’s nothing but want and anticipation. “We can stop anytime. Tell me you know that.”
