"Burn Me, Hate Me, Want Me"

The car was silent, save for her whimpers.

Noora writhed in his lap, sweat trailing down her skin, limbs trembling as fire pulsed under her skin like molten lava. The drug still surged through her veins, devouring her sanity with every beat of her heart.

“Ahhh… so hot… it burns…”

Her fingers clawed at the shredded remains of her dress, peeling fabric off her feverish skin as though it stung her.

Luciano clenched his jaw, eyes forward, unmoved.

“Stop squirming,” he muttered coldly, voice like ice cutting through her flames.

She whimpered and curled closer to him instead, burying her flushed face into the crook of his neck.

“S-So hot… Please… please make it stop…”

“Please make it stop…”

He didn’t budge.

But she felt the slight jerk in his throat when her lips grazed his collarbone.

“Noora Veneitte!” His voice was low. Dangerous. “Bear it. Or you’ll regret what happens next.”

But she didn’t listen.

Couldn’t.

Her body was no longer hers. Her fingers found his chest; hard, warm, alive. She moaned softly, arching against him, delirious, eyes glassy with tears and lust as her lips found the curve of his neck.

And then—

She bit him.

Hard.

A sharp curse hissed through Luciano’s clenched teeth. His hand flew to her waist—grabbing her, holding her in place, but not pushing her away.

“Damn it—” he growled.

Her mouth was on him again. His skin. His collar. Her tongue left wet trails down to his chest, lips hungry and lost in fevered madness. Her legs tightened around his lap, grinding against the heat that pulsed beneath the fine fabric of his pants.

“Please,” she gasped, voice breaking with desperation. “I need—I can’t—please…”

He stayed still.

Unmoving.

Unbothered—at least on the surface.

But inside, he was burning.

Her breath was like a furnace against his chest, her fingers nails on his restraint. Every whimper was a matchstick, and she was striking them all against the gasoline in his blood.

He didn’t move. Not until … she moaned his name.

“Luciano…”

Something inside him snapped.

Like glass.

He grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back, hard.

Her eyes, wide and glassy, locked on his. Lips red and bruised from biting. Her breath fanned over his chin as she panted like prey caught in the jaws of a beast.

And then—

He crushed his mouth to hers.

The kiss wasn’t soft.

It wasn’t gentle.

It was punishment.

His lips devoured hers, brutal and breath-stealing. His teeth sank into her lower lip, drawing blood. His tongue invaded her mouth with a hunger fueled by rage, hatred, want.

Noora moaned into him, arching helplessly against the intensity, her arms locked around his neck, clinging like a woman drowning.

But the moment she tried to deepen it; when she shifted, begging for more—he tore away.

“Don’t you dare,” he spat, yanking her hair again, holding her trembling face an inch from his. “Don’t you dare make that sound like you want me.”

Her body writhed.

Her breath hitched.

His next words were a growl, cracked and laced with poison;

“You wish it was Lucas who was touching you, don’t you?”

Noora’s lips parted, breathless. Confused.

Luciano’s jaw clenched; his eyes blazing with the intensified hatred.

He hissed. “You whimper like this… beg like this… because he didn’t choose you, don’t you?”

“No…” she whispered. But it didn’t come out strong enough. She didn’t know what she meant anymore.

His hand wrapped around her throat, not tight—but firm enough to make her stop squirming. His voice was now a blade that could sliced through her.

“You think I’m going to relieve you from this just because you decided to throw a tantrum that your beloved brother chose someone else over you?”

His eyes blazed.

“Feel it,” he growled. “Feel this pain. The same goddamn ache I’ve lived with for YEARS! You think you’re burning now, Noora Veneitte?”

He leaned closer, lips barely brushing hers.

“You don’t know what it’s like… to BURN in silence.”

Noora stared at him.

Speechless.

The hate. The hurt. The desire—all crashing in waves across his features.

And yet…

Somehow…

It didn’t sting the way it should have.

Because for the first time he wasn’t emotionless and ruthless ‘Luciano Richardson’ she always knew. He was just—Luciano.

Just Luciano talking about something that she didn’t know—something she didn’t understand.

“I…” Noora panted, breathless, tears clinging to her lashes as her scalp throbbed from where he’d yanked her back. But even through the sting… all she could see was him.

His lips, red and swollen from her kiss.

His eyes, stormy with rage, yet flickering with something that broke her chest open.

In that moment, she didn’t know what was real anymore. Didn’t even know if the overwhelming feeling surging through her to comfort him was real or just a hallucination anymore.

With what little strength she had left, Noora surged forward, her arms embracing around his neck, and crashed her lips to his…. clumsy, desperate, trembling.

Luciano froze.

His hands loosened, shocked still.

The taste of her was too much. The things that she was making him feel was too much. Her heart, her fragility… it made his fury scream.

He wanted to throw her off, shove her away, scream at her—

But she kissed him like it was meant for someone like him…

And that made it worse.

So much worse.

He gritted his teeth, fury bleeding into despair as he hissed,

“AND YOU WON’T EVEN REMEMBER THIS—”

Before he seized her face and kissed her back like he was trying to carve the memory into her soul of this hatred and rawness that SHE CHOSE THIS!

Even if he was the only one who’d carry it.