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6. My captor is an arrogant son of a ...

Lucca was striding towards the back door of the castle when I realized that the cold late afternoon air almost froze my cheeks and my bare feet. Lucca never let go of me. "Why are you doing this to me? What do you intend? Let me go!" I still tried to break free, but I must admit that my captor's shoulders were so strong.

He didn't say anything; he just threw me off his shoulders. Just when I thought I was going to fall on my butt to the ground (already preparing myself psychologically for the pain), that's when I felt my butt hit something soft and comfortable, and that's when I realized that I was sitting on top of a horse. Before I even had enough time to be shocked and shower him with the lowest slang curses I had learned in the London suburbs, Lucca hoisted his own body onto the horse, wrapped one strong arm around my waist, and grabbed the horse's reins. Upon receiving a command from him, the brave animal galloped off as if desperate. I dug my fingers into the horse's head, so I could grab on; otherwise, it was quite possible that I would jump out and fall violently, hitting my head on a rock and dying on the spot.

"You are crazy!" I screamed in desperation as I clung to not jump to certain death. Lucca rode for a considerable distance; the cold wind brushing my skin from the high speed the horse galloped almost froze my cheeks, but with my body pressed against this man's torso behind me, I could feel his body heat that was strangely good and comforting, as much as I hated it.

Then he pulled the horse's reins so suddenly that it made the poor animal neigh and raise its front legs, pushing us back. It's not written how much I screamed in fright; my heart was pounding so hard. It was such a mixture of fear and adrenaline that I could even hear the blood pumping in my ear. Lucca calmed the horse and sent me down.

"Down, now!" He was almost throwing me out!

"How crazy!" I was almost crying as I tried to hold on to the animal, so I could get down with my limbs shaking, but my impatient groom sort of grabbed my arm and dragged me down and then let go of me before my feet hit the ground, which made me fall on my ass. "Ouch! You crazy!"

With a bound, he was off the horse. Without even giving me any importance, he went to a nearby tree and held the horse's reins, so the animal wouldn't get lost. I swallowed my pride and got up from the grass, brushing moss from my dress, which was a lightweight nightwear. That bastard wouldn't even let me take a coat to cover myself! I sighed, looking around, and then I could see the Moretti castle a few kilometers away from us. Basically, we were in an open field surrounded by undergrowth in mountain dunes in the east region of the castle, and I had no doubt that we were still in the Moretti lands. From the top, I could see the small citadel in Morpeth where I had arrived by train yesterday. It was twilight, and the weak winter sun was setting, making the whole sky glow in indigo, turquoise, and violet colors. If the moment wasn't so horrifying, I would even find it beautiful; it was as if magic hung in the air in that region.

I hugged my shoulders with my own arms to try to ward off the chill when a cold wind blew through me.

"Is that what you want? You want to leave me out here in the open to freeze to death? Is this your way of getting rid of your unwanted bride?" I said it accusingly, looking at Lucca, who was still under the tree a few meters away from me.

"What did you hear in that office?" He asked, still not looking at me and completely ignoring my question.

"Is that what worries you the most? If I heard some of your and your father's secrets? Well, I think you two are incurable madmen!" I threw that in his face, feeling frustrated; he was approaching me at a slow pace.

"Incurable madmen? You're so unbelieving and spoiled that it scares me. Are you guys usually so spoiled in London?" Was he trying to offend me? It was unbelievable! Even more so when he was keeping a superior look and a snarky smile on that handsome face of his that I hated so much.

"Spoiled me? You're the spoiled one here; your father still treats you like you're still a kid going through puberty!" Did he still have the nerve to call me spoiled? At that moment, his face tightened into an expression of fury, his jaw clenched, and his eyebrows were in a V. He pulled me by the shoulder so abruptly that my small body collided with his, and I let out a small cry of fright, but now his face was inches from mine, his muscular body pressed against mine, and he pulled me by the shoulder so abruptly that my small body collided with his, I let out a small cry of fright, but now his face was inches from mine, his muscular body pressed against mine, and he was so hot and attractive, his dreams as black as pitch, his beautiful face that glowed because of the twilight coloring of the whole environment, he really looked like a mythological god, that beauty was not human…

And he surprised me when he slipped the same hand that gripped my arm to the back of my neck and brought his lips to mine in a kiss. I wanted to scream in fright and disgust; didn't he realize that I hated him? But he didn't give up and kept pressing his full lips to mine, opening my mouth with his, trying to kiss me as if he were taming a beast, and it was as if I was losing my lucidity. My captor's lips were so pleasurable that I found myself losing resistance; with a sigh, I found myself giving in and letting his silky tongue invade my mouth, and it was so warm and soft, so infinitely good... I felt his strong arm encircling my waist and pulling me closer to him—so close that my feet barely touched the ground. My arms were hugging his shoulders, pulling his shirt by the collar of his shirt because of the excess electricity I was feeling throughout my body. I had never been kissed before, not like this.

He was the one guiding the kiss with his big hand still on the back of my neck; he kissed hard and needed to, gave the impression that he hadn't kissed anyone for ages, and at the same time also gave the impression that he was a professional kisser. My eyes closed because of the delight of his mouth on mine; he explored every corner of my mouth, intertwined our tongues, and bit me lightly. When I thought our kiss would be eternal, he turned his face away from me, separating the osculation, leaving me stunned without knowing how to react. All I wanted was for him to kiss me again. Did he want me to beg? I was at the point of begging for more.

"Is a boy going through puberty capable of doing this?" He asked, referring to the kiss. What an arrogant son of a bitch!

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