Page 84 of Back Room Host

“Fuck,” Luca gasped beside my ear and picked up the pace again.

Clutching me tight, he thrust forcefully into me. Hard and eager.

“Oh God … here it comes … hhhh … I … fuuuck!”

Luca moaned for a long time as his grip on me tightened. Then he thrust again, and I felt him cum inside me. A shiver went through me, a hot wave of pleasure and this wonderful feeling of being connected to him.

We remained in that position for a while, panting heavily and coming down together. Luca withdrew from me and pushed me onto the bed as he lay down beside me. We kissed as if it were just the beginning, but this time the kisses were different. There was something I hadn’t noticed before. Something inside me. I longed for his lips, his touches. I needed them and didn’t want to be without them anymore. He stroked my head, my cheek, and my neck, giving me a sense of security. When he brushed myarm, I shuddered, because it dawned on me: I had fallen in love with the guy.

What we shared here was bittersweet, and I yearned for more of it—much more. Deep down, I knew it was beyond my reach. I felt foolish for even entertaining the idea of him falling in love with me; it was nothing but a pipe dream. What we had was just a fleeting moment of pleasure, nothing more. Still, despite knowing this, a warm feeling stirred in my chest. It fluttered with every heartbeat, a gentle reminder that I was, indeed, a dreamer.

“Are you cold?” he asked, yanking the blanket over us immediately.

“I’m fine,” I replied, savoring his company. His warmth and gentle touches were all I needed.

He showered me with kisses, brushed aside a few stray strands of hair, and traced his fingers along my neck. I melted into the sensation, simply reveling in it. As his fingers lingered on my neck, he paused.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Hm …?”

“What’s the story behind this scar?”

I met his gaze, drowning in the depths of his beautiful eyes. They held such tenderness, as if I were … precious. Despite myself, a wistful smile tugged at my lips.

“It's from a rope,” I replied softly.

“A rope?” He furrowed his brow in disbelief. “I’m sorry, but I lack the imagination for that.”

“I was often … locked up. Eventually, I managed to get hold of a rope long enough to abseil from the third floor. It was raining that day. By the time I reached the first floor, my father looked out from the window above, cursing and threatening me. He started shaking the rope violently. I was already soaked and struggling to hold on. Weak from two days without food,I lost my grip and slid down. The rope tore my skin from my neck to my collarbone, my hands bleeding too. But feeling the ground beneath my feet and the rain on my face was strangely comforting. The pain seemed insignificant. My father shouted threats, then disappeared from the window, so I ran as fast as I could.

“How old were you then?”

“Sixteen. I never went back.”

Before I could be consumed by the depths of those memories, I tilted my head and nestled closer to Luca. He enveloped me in his arms, holding me tightly.

It felt so good.

This was where I wanted to stay.

Forever.

28

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Juri

“I’ll kill you, you useless piece of shit! I’ve had enough for good now!”

A blow sent me crashing to the ground, followed by a kick to the stomach that left me gasping and doubled over in agony.

“How dare you steal from me? I told you, no food for four days!”

Another kick to the stomach made me retch, but my stomach was already empty. The meager bit of tomato sauce I had managed to sneak while washing dishes was long gone. I coughed and spat bile, unable to control the violent reaction. When a droplet landed on his pants, he yanked me up by the hair, smashing my head against the wall before tightening his grip around my throat, cutting off my breath.

I was dreadfully weak. Three days without food had left me depleted. Through half-open eyes, I gazed at my father, the warmth of blood trickling down my temples, struggling for air. His face contorted with rage, he slapped me once more, his hands still wrapped around my throat.

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