Bound to Break

Chapter 34

Luciano told him to take apart the beds. I was going to kill him. My lips pressed tightly together as I stormed to his room.

I swung his door open and walked in. He was laying on his back wearing a white t-shirt, all relaxed under the covers as if he was expecting this.

I stomped to his side. "What is wrong with you?!"

"A lot of things." He replied and put his arms behind his head. I tried not to look at his arms and maintained eye contact, the smug look on his face angering me even more.

"Va' a farti fottere! (Go screw yourself!)"

"Perché dovrei quando ho te che lo fai per me. (Why should I when I have you to do it for me.)"

I stared at him, not knowing what the hell he just said. Advanced Italian was not my thing. "If you don't fix the guest room I swear to god Luciano I'll choke you in your sleep."

His eyes narrowed by an inch. "Do it."

I let out a sound of anger. He was so frustratingly calm I felt like slapping him, or kissing him. I wasn't sure yet.

So I punched his shoulder, his stare deadly as it moved onto me. "Hit me again and I swear I'll make you regret it Nina."

"Please, your threats are as empty as you."

Trying to be dramatic, I attempted to walk away before I was yanked back with a speed that made me tumble. My mouth shot open. I fell over Luciano, his arm around my waist holding me taut.

This was outrageous. Our mouths were too close,
and as my eyes flickered to his lips something other than hatred burned hot in my blood. "If you don't let me go, I'll break your fingers."

He was amused, while I tried squirming out of his hold. This situation would screw me over. His hair brushing my forehead. My palms on his chest, warm and muscled.

The realisation that I couldn't run from this settled in, and I stopped struggling. The tension was abrasive, like a sharp rope wrapping around my neck and slowing my breathing.

He made me so angry. And hot. It was like a mix of every feeling in one concoction. Like being ill and confused and not knowing anything.

All I knew now was that my heart was racing at the proximity of him. I realised I wanted nothing more than to just give in to his lips the way I almost did before - when I was carefree and Luciano was merely a game for me. But I was too stubborn.

"There's something seriously-"

"Shut up."

His demand made me close my mouth. Rough fingertips grazed my cheek, and suddenly his lips were on mine.

My chest tightened. His muscles tensed under my hands, and I exhaled through my nose.

He hated me. And I hated him, so why did this feel so good? Why did I grab onto his jaw and bury myself deeper?

Suddenly my eyes opened and I pulled away to slap him but instead I froze on the spot. I didn't know what to do, or how to react in a situation like this. But he did.

His eyes fixated on my lower lip, and he brushed a thumb over it, breaking the ice surrounding me. "Why is this always bleeding?"

I wanted to pull away, run from him and what I felt but I couldn't run from the fact that somebody asked something about me.

"I have a habit of biting." I quickly let out. "My Papa always got angry at me for it."

"Yeah? Why?"

"It was...unladylike."

I didn't realise how audible my breaths were. He ran his thumb over my lip again and I fought hard not to close my eyes at the feeling. "Why do you hate me?"

"I don't hate you." He slowly admitted. "I hate what you do to me."

What.

My eyes meet with his to search for any sign of dishonesty, but there was none. I slowly pulled myself off of him and crawled onto the other side of the bed.

It was perfectly chilly under the sheets, but a certain heat still danced on my skin.

As much as I told myself otherwise, I knew that a marriage to Luciano was different than one to Elmo. It was easily much more complicated. He was much more complicated.

Luciano shut the lamp and laid down, and I stared into the pitch black darkness. I shouldn't let those words get to me.

I still disliked him, and he disliked me. I always knew marriage to him would be a mess and I was right. We've been arguing and bickering the entire 30 hours we've been husband and wife. We were a disaster together.

But still as I lay in his - our bed, I couldn't resist the urge to bury my face into the blanket to bask in his scent. "You better not touch me." I warned.

"Not planning on it."