Insidious Ocean
Copyright© 2026 by nyra
Chapter 40: but
Romance Sex Story: Chapter 40: but - Who is the true villain in this story? Luca Moreno has always believed in justice, which is why he became a cop. Now undercover in the Brooks family’s criminal empire, he plans to destroy it from within. But when he meets Raven, the Don’s niece, everything changes. As his morals blur and innocence erodes, Luca must face who he’s becoming—and who the real villain truly is.
Caution: This Romance Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Consensual BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Crime Humor Oral Sex
LUCA
— 𝓈𝒾𝓍 𝓂ℴ𝓃𝓉𝒽𝓈 𝓁𝒶𝓉ℯ𝓇 —
The crown is officially mine. Mine by the blood I’ve shed, the blood I’ve spilled, the bonds I’ve made and family I’ve chosen regardless of blood.
Every scar—mental or physical—I’ve obtained has led me to these moments. They’ve come from me defending this kingdom and its people. From protecting them.
I’ve always wanted my sacrifices to be worth it. To mean something. And considering the look on Raven’s face right now as I drive us up to the mansion—our mansion—in my old Camaro, it’s all worth it.
She’s worth everything I’ve been through. No matter how traumatic. I’d do it all again to ensure she’s safe.
I pull into the circular driveway, parking directly in front of the door. Raven doesn’t say anything, but I can see that she’s happy with what she sees as she takes in the building.
We’ve spent months planning it out. Raven and I had a say in every little detail.
I couldn’t allow Raven to continue living in Cain’s mansion. It didn’t seem fair. There’s far too many bad vibes there. When it comes to our home—to the place we want filled with our love for one another—I wanted something else and I believe she did as well.
Which is why we used our newfound wealth to purchase a plot of land and design a home all our own.
Cain’s mansion still exists. I can’t bring myself to do anything with it because I’m so conflicted over dealing with what resides beside the pond in the garden. Instead of burning it to ash—like I’d prefer to do—I’ve left it standing and we now conduct business out of it.
However, I’ve given the office a much needed makeover.
Getting out of the vehicle, I saunter around it, offering a hand to my girl to aid her in stepping out of my Camaro. The moment she takes it, those familiar sparks erupt between us.
With our fingers intertwined, I gently unlock and push open the front door of the house and hold it for her. I allow her to enter first, following behind closely to listen as she gasps when she sees what I’ve had set up for her.
This is the first time she’s seeing the finished house—our house—and I’ve had it filled with various, large displays of flowers. Calla lily’s and hellebores in black, with roses and tulips in a deep, dark shade of purple.
“Luca—” her voice is breathless as she takes it all in, following the trail of flowers to the open space of the living, dining, and kitchen area. As well as the small nearby room where our billiards table rests.
After locking the door behind us, I accompany her as she walks, admiring the way the tight, short fabric of her black dress fits the swell of her ass.
The sound of her heels echoing in the space as she walks across our expensive marble flooring is probably causing the ceiling of hell to shake and tremble with each step she takes. I hope Cain enjoys dodging the falling debris.
“This is beautiful, Luca. It’s perfect.”
No, you are.
I scan over the room, pleased with how everything turned out. The man I had choose the decorative things—shit like throw pillows, blankets, drapes, etcetera—appears to have left a gift for me as well. I see a gold-coloured glass, depicting an upside-down M that I can only assume represents my surname.
The Moreno mafia.
No longer the Brooks.
She goes to the billiards table, her expression filled with wonder and amazement as she ghosts her palm over the felt.
My heart expands and contracts with enough force to make my breath catch. I love seeing her like this. She’s magnificently, indescribably, painfully beautiful. I’m more certain of us—of the fact that she’s my person—than I am that I need oxygen to breathe.
When she turns to look at me, I’m leaning up against the nearby wall. At this point, I’ve rolled up the sleeves of my black dress shirt and I’m absentmindedly running the tips of my fingers over the stubble on my jawline as I observe her reaction.
I close some of the distance between us. I can’t help it. Our skin is practically magnetized.
“There’s only one problem,” she points out, stepping towards me to place a palm flat to my chest.
“Yeah? What would that be?”
She cracks the tiniest smile, “I might’ve forgotten to wear panties.”
“Forgotten?” The sound of that has my desire for her burning hotter than a forest fire within my chest.
She gives me a faux innocent expression.
“And what would you suggest to remedy the problem?” My eyes drag down her body, admiring the dress she’s in. It’s tight to her curves, displaying every bit of her I love so much. It has an open space just below her breasts—a triangular shape that exposes her navel, as well as the bottom swell of her breasts.
She’s also wearing this decorative piece of jewelry—is it jewelry? I’m not sure. It’s a silver-coloured piece that sits below her tits, depicting a sparkling crown directly between them. It seems fitting, considering she’s now the queen.
With her long hair flowing in waves over her shoulders and minimal makeup, she’s stunning. But she always is. It doesn’t matter what she’s in, she never fails on being the most gorgeous woman in the room. I’ll only ever have eyes for her.
“Bend over the edge of the pool table, my love.”
That’s my suggestion to remedy this situation.
She quirks an eyebrow.
“I want to have my first meal in our new home.”
Her eyes light up at the sound of that and after leaving a lingering kiss on my lips, she spins to do as I requested. As she does so, I move to seat myself on the nearby sofa, positioning myself so I’m able to observe.
She leans her elbows on the top, turning her head to glance back at me, slightly confused.
“What—” she stutters on her words, her voice airy as she asks, “What are you doing?”
I tip my head to the side, twisting one of the few rings on my fingers as I smirk at her reaction, “Sitting here. Enjoying the view of my girl spread out and wet for me.”
As I observe, my hand wanders south to rub the bulge that now strains in my dress slacks as I attempt to relieve some of the pressure of my hard-on.
She moans audibly, shifting to press her thighs together. Unbuckling my belt and unzipping my fly, I tell her, “You’d look so good covered in my cum, angel. It slathered over your luscious tits. Dotted across the spanked red skin of your ass.”
She tilts her head to lay her cheek on the soft felt of the pool table and I see her bite down on her lower lip at the sound of my filthy mouth. “What?” I question in a tease, “You like the sound of that?”
“Yes.” I barely hear her answer.
“Reach back,” I demand.
She hesitates.
“Moonlight,” I warn with a low husk. “Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you, yeah?”
Slowly, she puts both hands over the swell of her ass.
“Pull up your skirt for me. Show me what belongs to me. Show me what’s mine.”
She begins to, but pauses, wiggling her hips ever so slightly. However, she doesn’t immediately do as I’ve asked, so I add, “Now,” in a stern tone.
At this point, she’s dragging it out as a way to tease me. My thought is confirmed as she leisurely pulls the hem of her skirt up, revealing that she was honest in her admission of not wearing knickers and muses, “You mean like this?”
“Just like that,” I husk, spreading the open zip of my slacks to yank down the front of my boxer-briefs and pull my hard cock out. I wrap my hand around it to give it a squeeze as I growl, “You’re being such a good girl for me.”
She whimpers, arching her back further for me. In her tall pair of heels, it accentuates her legs and I drool at the sight of her thick thighs. “Spread your legs, Raven.” I fist my cock, groaning audibly as she does as I say.
She whines my name, adjusting her stance in anticipation. It causes a flicker of light to hit the apex of her thighs, proving how much she’s glisteningly wet for me. “Touch yourself.”
With delicate fingers, she places her hand between her legs and with the first stroke of her index finger over her clit, her right leg trembles. I stroke my cock as I watch and when she moans my name, it’s the equivalent of her mouth being wrapped around my dick.
I let her set her own pace, pleased when she slides two fingers shallowly inside herself, using the heel of her hand to brush against her clit with each thrust. Her free hand grips the edge of the billiards table—to the point where her knuckles go white.
“That’s it, my girl. Show me you belong to me.”
Fuck, she’s stunning. She’s the first thing I’ve ever looked at that actually physically hurts to look at. She’s far too beautiful for this earth.
“Harder,” I demand. I can see with the pattern of her breathing that she’s close to cumming. She’s my little exhibitionist. She’s getting off quickly at the fact that I’m observing everything she’s doing.
Without me instructing her to do so, she turns her body over, resting her one elbow back on the top of the pool table, never removing her fingers from her pussy. “Luca, I—” she gasps, leaning over the edge of the table like a painting of a cresting wave, getting close to orgasming.
“Don’t you dare cum, Raven.” She mumbles a sound of annoyance, but I add, “The only way you’re getting off is on my tongue or my dick.”
“Please—” she whimpers, bucking her hips up into her hand. “I need you. Come and kiss me,” she begs. “Touch me. Please.”
Standing from the sofa, I begin to walk towards her. “It’s not your mouth I’m gonna’ kiss,” I assure her. “I’m gonna’ kiss your wet little pussy until your thighs tremble, and you wet my beard.”
Her eyes are like sea glass as they rake up my body.
Without warning, I close the distance between us, bend to hook my hands at the backs of her thighs and lift her to place her ass on the table. She squeals with excitement, laying back on the felt in anticipation.
I bend before her, wasting no time in burying my face between her thighs. The second my tongue swipes over her and I’m able to taste her, I groan. “My tongue was made for your pussy, Raven.”
“Fuck,” she curses, dragging out the sound of the vowel. She threads her fingers in my hair, gasping as her legs tighten around my head.
Thrusting two fingers inside her, my tongue licks at her clit—sucking the sensitive nub between my lips. I reach my other hand up, dragging over the exposed skin of her stomach to reach for the fabric that covers her tits. I pull it aside, pinching the barbell in her one nipple.
I curl my fingers inside her, hitting the spot that makes her toes curl. “Too much—” she gasps, “I’m gonna’—”
Quickening my pace, I suck and lick at her clit until she’s writhing beneath me, crying out my name as she cums on my fingers and tongue. It knocks the air from her lungs, her nails digging painfully into my head in such a way that it only turns me on more.
I have my fucking head tattooed. I think it’s fairly obvious that I have at least some sort of pain kink.
Either that, or I’m fucking mad.
I move to seat myself back on the sofa, my eyes raking over her disheveled appearance with lust-filled eyes. I stroke my cock with one hand, making eye contact with her as I tease, “Does your pussy ache for this?”
She presses her thighs together, but remains silent.
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