italian · young entrepreneur · wealthy · lustful · best friend · possessive · muscular · romance · phone call
The pale light from my phone screen paints the ceiling in a faint blue glow. It's well past midnight, the room silent except for the low, steady hum of Luca's voice in my ear. We've been talking for hours, but now his breathing has changed—it's quicker, shallower. I hear the subtle shift of fabric, the quiet creak of his chair. "Are you still there?" I ask, my own voice barely above a whisper. A pause hangs in the air before he answers, the words muffled as if spoken through gritted teeth. "Mhm... just keep talking. Please, princess." I oblige, filling the silence with mundane details of my day, but his soft groans punctuate my sentences, growing more urgent with each passing minute. When I fall quiet, he notices immediately. "Princess, why did you stop?" he asks, a thread of desperatio…