“Have you talked to your brother since you came here?”
We’re lounging on a pile of mats, watching the sunset through the dirty gym window. We’ve done a little sparring, stopped to kiss, a little more sparring, much more kissing… Lucca has his arms wrapped around me.
“You know that as per Academy rules, we are only allowed to contact family members once a month from the phone bank in the main building,” I reply primly.
His silent laughter jostles me a little. “It’s interesting. The school’s best hacker and purveyor of illegal phones lives next door to Kon and me. Mark Tanner, do you know him?”
“I think I’ve seen him a couple of times, an American? He’s in the Assassins division?”
“Yeah,” Lucca’s fingers are idly stroking down my arm, as if he’s acquainting himself with all the bits and pieces of me. “He was in a panic last week because there was a new digital signal for a server that just popped up somewhere here on campus. Not an Academy-approved one.”
“Hmm,” I hum noncommittally.
His amusement is obvious. “He was scared it was going to set off the Academy sensors and get his little network shut down, but it seems like it’s impossible to trace. It’s patched into Skylink and the VPN changes every couple of minutes when it’s active.”
“Is that so?”
“Funny how it popped up right after you came here, isn’t it?” He’s goading me now. Lifting me easily, he turns me around to straddle him.
He’s watching his hands smooth up and down my thighs, his dark lashes are a thick fan against his cheekbones. “You know, it’s so unjust that you were given those eyelashes,” I complain, “you’re never going to appreciate them the way a woman would.”
“My eyelashes?” Lucca starts chuckling again. “That’s what you feel is unjust? Not genocide or… say, dengue fever. My eyelashes are the ultimate injustice?”
When I crossly attempt to climb off him, his long fingers slide down to my ass, gripping me tightly. My hands are on his shoulders, about to shove myself away from him when I feel the thick bulge in his shorts growing, pushing against my center. It makes me suck in a deep breath, and he goes still. His chuckle drifts away and he watches me closely. I feel the muscles in his shoulders flex as his hands squeeze my ass, dragging me closer against his dick, already hard and thick and separated from me by just scant bits of cloth.
There’s a weird sense of something slipping into place, a precise fit like a key to a lock. My spread legs fit perfectly around his, and Lucca’s hands curved over my ass as if they’d always belonged there.
He lifts me just slightly and drops me against his cock again, then a slow slide back and forth, and the friction is almost enough to make me combust. Sliding my hands over his shoulders and down his chest, I trace his sculpted pectorals, his chest hair brushing against my sensitive palms. Lucca doesn’t speak, just watches my face as my breath grows shorter with each slide across his hard thighs and back against his cock. It’s hot, I can feel the burn of it through his thin shorts and mine and I’m already so slick that I’m afraid I’m going to leave a wet spot on his lap.
Leaning forward to kiss me, his teeth latch onto my bottom lip, tugging slightly. “I think you can come, just like this. What do you think,piccolo bacio?”
“I… uh…” The ability to form a coherent sentence has apparently been lost and all I can focus on now is the very real need to come, rubbing shamelessly against his clothed cock. He’s pushing it against me, his hips tilting up to make sure it rubs over my clitoris on each downstroke.
“Your nipples are rubbing against my chest,” he whispers diabolically, “so stiff. I want to suck them into my mouth. Bite them. I think you’d like that too, wouldn’t you?”
My hips are moving on their own, pressing hard against him, and I think he’s right, damn him. I’m going to come on his cock and it’s not even inside me and when I do, my thighs tighten convulsively and my nails dig into his skin. It must hurt but he doesn’t stop me, he just keeps whispering dirty suggestions into my ear as I gasp and shake, the warmth threatening to sear through me and it’s so much better, so much stronger than anything I’ve ever managed to achieve on my own.
Lucca groans, his hands tightening enough that I know I’ll see bruises tomorrow, and I’ll silently gloat over each one. “So pretty when you come,” he says, biting my shoulder.
When he lifts me off him, I see, to my extreme embarrassment, that I have not only left a wet spot on his shorts I have soaked them. And also, that he’s still hugely hard. “Can I help you, um…” I gesture at the very obvious bulge, “Can I take care of you?”
Kissing me, he helps me up with a groan. “I’ll handle it later. Our reserved time is up and no one is going to see you like this but me.” He pulls his shirt on, an act I watch with some regret because I have so many questions about his tattoos and it seems like a crime to cover a chest so perfectly sculpted.
We’re almost to the student housing building when he asks, “Why didn’t your father make an alliance with an arranged marriage for you?”
“I’m not really sure,” I said slowly, “after all, Mariya was only fourteen when she was promised in marriage to Konstantin. I always got the sense that I was…” I’m waving my hands, trying to think of the right phrase, “An asset he held back, like a royal flush to pull out at the end of a game of poker, or something.”
He’s frowning and I feel like he’s judging my parents.
“My father and mother loved me,” I said a little defensively. “I know I was never a key piece on the Bratva chessboard. They did love me though, and my brothers do, too.”
Lucca chuckles bitterly, and it makes me sad to hear it. “We’re all fucking pawns on this chessboard. Just pawns.”
He stops just out of view of the building, light blazing from the windows against the early night. “One more practice session tomorrow, I am confident about your skills. You’re smart, and you’re strategic. I don’t want you to worry tonight. Get some sleep.”
I know him well enough now to know that he does not give out compliments freely. If he says he’s confident about my skills, then I must be, too.
“Okay,” I take a deep breath. “Okay. Thank you, Lucca.”
