The First Claim

Lucia washed herself in the black marble shower until the water ran cold.

She scrubbed between her legs until the skin stung, trying to erase the memory of Damian's tongue and the way she had come apart for him like a cheap toy. The orgasm still echoed in her muscles. Her thighs trembled when she stepped out. In the mirror her reflection looked different, flushed, marked, owned. She pulled the black sweater and skirt back on with shaking hands, then forced herself to walk downstairs.

The east dining room was long and cold. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked a rain-soaked garden. Damian already sat at the head of the table, black shirt still open at the throat, a cup of black coffee in one hand and a tablet in the other. He did not look up when she entered.

"Sit."

She sat opposite him. The distance felt deliberate. A plate of food had already been placed in front of her, eggs, toast, fruit. She could not imagine eating.

Damian set the tablet down and finally raised his eyes. They moved over her face, then lower, lingering on the way the sweater clung to her still-sensitive breasts.

"You cleaned yourself," he observed. Good. I prefer my property presentable when we discuss business.

Lucia's fingers curled into fists under the table. I am not your property.

"You are whatever I say you are." He leaned back in his chair, completely at ease. The men who killed your mother belong to a rival family, the Morettis of Naples. Distant blood, same name, different loyalties. Your mother was their cousin. She tried to leave their world. They made an example of her. Your father paid my father to erase the evidence and keep you hidden. In exchange he promised the only thing the Morettis still wanted: the last female of that line. You. The debt has been collecting interest for twenty-two years. Last night they finally tracked you. I collected first.

The words landed like stones. Lucia's stomach turned. My father...

"Is alive because I allow it. For now." Damian's voice remained flat, almost bored. He will remain alive as long as you remain useful and obedient. The moment you become a problem, I send him back to them in pieces. Do you understand?

She forced the word out. "Yes."

Louder.

"Yes."

Good. He stood. The chair scraped softly against the marble. He walked around the long table until he stood beside her. One hand settled on the back of her neck, heavy and possessive. "Stand up."

Lucia rose on unsteady legs. Damian turned her to face the table, then pressed her forward until her palms flattened on the polished wood. The position forced her ass out toward him. He kicked her feet apart with one polished shoe.

"You came on my tongue this morning like a woman who has never been properly touched," he said behind her, voice low and clinical. Have you ever had a man inside you, Lucia?

Her face burned. She stayed silent.

His hand slid under her skirt and cupped her bare sex through the damp lace. Answer.

"No," she whispered.

A soft, dark sound left him, almost a laugh, but colder. A virgin. How convenient. The debt includes everything. Your body. Your innocence. Your first time. I will take it now.

Panic spiked through her. Wait, please...

He ignored her. In one brutal motion he tore the lace panties down her thighs and left them tangled around her knees. Cool air kissed her exposed folds. She heard the soft rasp of his zipper, then the heavy, hot weight of his cock settling against the cleft of her ass.

"You will take every inch," he said, voice terrifyingly calm. You will bleed on my c**k if you must. And when I am finished you will thank me for being the first man to ruin you.

Lucia's arms shook. She tried to push up. His hand between her shoulder blades forced her back down until her cheek pressed to the table.

The broad head of his c**k nudged between her folds, already slick from earlier. He did not prepare her further. He simply notched himself at her entrance and pushed.

The stretch was immediate but.controlled. Lucia cried out as the thick head slowly made its way inside her untouched body. Pain bloomed sharp and white-hot. Damian did not pause. He gripped her hips hard enough to bruise and drove forward in a steady, relentless thrust that split her open around him.

"Fuck," he muttered, the first crack in his control. Tight. Perfect. Made for this.

Lucia sobbed into the table. Tears blurred her vision. The burn of being filled for the first time stole her breath. He was too big, too thick, too much. Every inch dragged against walls that had never been stretched, until she felt him bottom out deep inside her, the heavy weight of his balls pressing against her cl*t.

He held still for three heartbeats, letting her feel every pulse of the c**k buried in her virgin c7nt.

"Breathe," he ordered. You will not pass out. You will feel this.

Then he began to move.

There was nothing gentle in the way Damian Vittori fucked. He withdrew almost all the way and slammed back in, using her body like a sleeve made for his pleasure. The wet, filthy sound of her newly broken cunt taking him filled the dining room. Each thrust forced a broken cry from her throat. Pain and something darker tangled together, pressure, fullness, the humiliating realization that her body was starting to respond even through the hurt.

"Look at you," he growled, fingers digging into her hips. Bleeding on my c**k like a good little payment. Your virgin blood is painting me. I can feel it.

Lucia's nails scraped the table. She tried to close her legs. He simply forced them wider with his thighs and f*cked her harder. The skirt was shoved up around her waist. The sweater had ridden up. Her bare breasts pressed against the cold wood with every brutal stroke.

"You will come again," he told her, voice cold and absolute. I do not care if it hurts. I do not care if you hate it. Your c7nt will milk me while I fill you for the first time.

One hand slid around her hip and found her cl*t. He rubbed the swollen bud in tight, merciless circles while his c**k continued its punishing rhythm. The dual sensation was too much. The pain blurred into a sharp, helpless pleasure that coiled low in her belly.

No, I can' t...

You can. And you will.

He pinched her cl*t hard at the same moment he drove especially deep. Lucia shattered with a broken scream. Her virgin walls clamped down around the thick intrusion, pulsing and fluttering as the orgasm ripped through her. Damian cursed low and filthy, hips snapping faster, chasing his own release inside the tight, spasming heat of her.

He buried himself to the hilt and came with a guttural sound, flooding her with thick, hot pulses of c*m. Lucia felt every spurt, the unfamiliar heat of it painting her insides, claiming her in the most primitive way possible.

For a long moment the only sounds were their ragged breathing and the soft drip of something, her blood, his seed, both, onto the floor between her spread feet.

Damian remained buried inside her, one hand still holding her down, the other stroking slowly over her cl*t as if to remind her body who owned its responses.

"You are no longer a virgin," he said quietly, almost thoughtfully. That belongs to me now. Every first after this will belong to me as well. Your first time bent over a table. Your first time filled with c*m. Your first time coming while you cry. All of it is mine.

He finally pulled out. The sudden emptiness made her whimper. Thick mixed fluids, blood and c*m, slid down her inner thighs. Damian stepped back, tucked himself away, and looked down at the mess he had made of her with cold satisfaction.

Clean yourself. Change. There are clothes in your room. In one hour you will return here. We are not finished discussing how you will repay the rest of the debt.

He walked toward the door, then paused without turning.

"And Lucia?"

She could not answer. Her legs would not hold her. She remained draped over the table, skirt around her waist, freshly claimed cunt still twitching and leaking his release.

"The next time I take you," he said, voice pure ice, you will ask for it. Until then, remember how easily I broke you open. And how much more I still intend to take.

The door closed behind him.

Lucia stayed where she was, cheek pressed to the wood, body aching and used, the copper taste of blood and the heavy scent of s*x filling the air. Somewhere in the mansion a clock chimed the hour. Somewhere outside the walls, the men who had murdered her mother were still hunting.

And inside these walls, Damian Vittori had just collected the first installment of what he believed he was owed, her innocence, her blood, and the beginning of her complete undoing.