Chapter 32 Sophia
H e shakes his head, following after me with a laugh as he takes off his clothes, too, both of us leaving a mess behind. He turns me around and crashes his lips against mine as we stumble into the bedroom. Even though it kills me to stop kissing him for a second, I turn around and quickly find the drawer I’m looking for, grab a condom, and toss it at him.
I think this is what I like most about us. It feels comfortable. Even as we’re both in the heat of the moment, we’re true to our characters. We connect. We can laugh. We can work in sync. I’ve never felt this type of connection with anyone, not even my ex—and I dated him for four years, convinced I was deeply in love. But now, I’m not so sure that was the case. Looking back, I think I was just searching for someone to fill the emptiness, to not feel alone for a change, and he happened to be there. With Lorenzo, though, it’s different—deeper. And boy, does it scare my poor little heart.
“All fours on the bed, now,” he orders, pointing to the bed, his eyes eagerly roaming every inch of my body. Under the intensity of Lorenzo’s gaze, I feel adored. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never had any confidence issues. I believe I’m beautiful just the way I am. Could I use a little more height? Maybe. That’s as sorry as I allow myself to be. But the way he drinks me in, it’s a feeling I don’t tire of.
In other instances, I would fight him for the hell of it, but I’m so ready to feel all of him inside of me, I quickly obey, resting my head on the fluffy white pillow and arching my back. I’ve come to enjoy giving him control, and that’s saying a lot, because I’m not big on trusting.
He stalks behind me, his hand brushing the curve of my ass as he starts peppering kisses all over my back. “You’re so perfect, Sophia. And so goddamn beautiful. Fuck. How did I get so lucky?”
My heart quivers for the slightest moment at the sincerity of his voice. “You called me by my name,” I say, turning my head slightly and looking over my shoulder.
He rolls his lips, holding back a smile as he drops one last kiss. “I wanted you to know how serious I am.” With that, he enters me slowly and we moan in unison.
I love how open Lorenzo is in bed. He doesn’t shy away from grunting and letting me know he’s enjoying himself. It makes me want him even more. In this position, he’s so deep inside of me, a sense of satisfaction washes over me. I love the feel of being filled to the hilt. He presses a hand against my back, making me arch even more. His movements are precise and slow, and I can feel every inch as he glides in and out of me. All I can do is moan into the pillow, because the sensation is all too much; I don’t know what else to do with myself.
He places one arm underneath me, pulling my body flush against his, and a throaty moan—more like a cry, really—escapes my lips, because somehow, I feel him even more.
“Oh, God. I can’t. It’s too much,” I gasp, wrapping my arms around the back of his neck.
“You can do it, Blue,” he growls in my ear, one of his hands reaching my breasts as he starts playing with them, pinching my nipples just the way I like it. “Be a good girl and take every inch of my cock.”
He nips my ear, and I clench around him at the feel of his mouth against my skin. His thrusts become more punishing, but also thorough, making sure I take every inch he has to offer me.
“God, you feel so fucking good.” Thrust . “Tight.” Thrust . “And made for me.” Thrust .
It’s funny, because I also feel like I was made for him. But the thought is too crazy to even entertain. We’re just compatible in bed—or at least, that’s what I keep telling myself to make this feel simpler. To make myself think I have some sort of control of the situation.
I tug his hair as he continues to pound into me, kissing and nipping my neck and shoulders. His lips don’t leave my body, not even for the slightest second. This brings me an invigorating satisfaction. Knowing we’re so desperate for each other that we must feel each other everywhere—at all times. His hand reaches for my clit, rubbing the sensitive bud, and my orgasm starts building at an abnormally fast pace as he keeps touching me in all the right places.
“Come for me again. Milk my cock, please , baby,” he begs in my ear, sending me over the edge.
My pussy clenches around him, the orgasm overtaking my body as my legs shake, wanting to give out, but I don’t let them. I stay put as his fingers grip my soft flesh and he starts pounding into me harder and harder. The delicious sounds of our skin clasping together, his grunts, and my cries mix and fill the room, making this moment feel more charged and erratic. There’s nothing sweet about the way Lorenzo is fucking me right now. His moves are sloppy, primal, and desperate—I adore every filthy second of it. He thrusts twice more, and then a groan escapes his lips as he reaches his own orgasm. Once we both catch our breaths a little, he slips out of me and we fall onto the bed. Me, with a satiated sigh. Him, with a small laugh.
“You’re amazing,” he says, dropping a kiss on the side of my head before disposing of the condom in the small trashcan I have next to my bed.
I hum, hitting his shoulder playfully with mine. “Do you remember that night at the club when I told you I wouldn’t give you my number and?—”
He interrupts me. “You said, and I quote”—he clears his throat before trying to do his best impression of my voice—“ Unless you were about to ask for a high five for what we did, I don’t see what else you have to say to me .”
I roll my eyes, hitting him on the shoulder. “I hate you.”
“Then you proceeded to give me a 7 out of 10, which I still think you lied, by the way.” He gives me a pointed look.
I thin my lips, holding back a laugh. “I confess… I did lie.”
“Knew it,” he replies with a smug grin. “You can’t fake this type of chemistry.”
“ This is why I lied. I knew you were going to be so cocky.”
“Come here,” he says gruffly, wrapping his arm around me and yanking me toward him, nipping my shoulder playfully. “It’s not cocky if I’m stating facts, Blue.”
“Get over yourself. ”
He tangles our legs together, our bodies flushed against each other. “Never. You like me like this, and you know it.”
I opt not to say anything, because he’s right. I do. I like him just like this. Funny. Unfiltered. Kind.
As we lie there, I rest my head on his chest, both silent now. I wait for the crawly feeling I get every time there’s silence around me. Wait for the hair on the back of my neck to rise in alarm like it always does. But it doesn’t come. All I feel is peace around him, and the thought jars me for a moment before I push it away. For once, I want to allow myself to be normal.
He kisses the top of my head, inhaling. “I gotta go, because I think the carbs are settling in and I’m falling asleep here,” he croaks.
Before I know it, I grip his arm. “Stay over. It’s late, I don’t want you driving around at this time.”
What the fuck are you doing, Sophia? This is not friends-with-benefits territory. You slept with him already. Why are you asking him to stay over?
“ Careful , Blue. Otherwise, I’m going to start thinking you like me.”
“Please.” I wave my hand at him dismissively, even though my heart is beating wildly at his comment. Because he has no idea how scared I am, too. In fact, I think it’s already too late. “If you die in a car accident, I’m going to feel guilty. I don’t need that on my conscience, I already have enough problems.”
He looks at me for a beat with a playful smile etched on his face. “If you want to cuddle with me, all you have to do is ask.”
I shoot him an eye roll as I stand from the bed and make my way to the bathroom to begin my bedtime routine. “You’re so full of yourself.”
After taking a quick shower, we both stand in my tiny bathroom, brushing our teeth—him with his fingers, because I don’t have an extra toothbrush. We look at each other through the mirror without saying anything, instead, we grin like two idiots. My heart still beats abnormally fast, something that has become normal every time I’m around him. We look so domestic , and even knowing that, I don’t feel like running away.
I put on an old oversize hoodie from my college days while Lorenzo goes to find his clothes, only putting on his boxer briefs. For a brief moment, I regret asking him to stay over, because my eyes are shamelessly wandering from his chest down to his torso. I’ve always been so wrapped up around him and in the heat of the moment, I keep forgetting to study his tattoos. Now, I can see how the ink flows from his chest to his shoulders, wrapping around his perfect, muscled back. They all connect somehow, but it’s hard to make out the details in the dim light of my room. He also has some small, random tattoos scattered all over his arms that I’m dying to study more closely.
He slips underneath the comforter, resting an arm behind his head. He brings me closer to him, but I prop my elbow on the bed and rest my head in the palm of my hand, looking at him as my fingertips start tracing a tattoo with roman numerals.
“What does this one mean?” I whisper, tracing the ink with a soft, feathery touch.
He looks down. “My mom’s birthday. I wanted a reminder of her. Never met her, because she died giving birth to me.” He mirrors my pose, draping his leg over mine.
The simple touch of his skin against mine sets my body aflame. If I were any other person, I would think this is a sign from the universe. Like there’s a deeper meaning behind every touch he gives me and how much I crave more of it. But destiny is a fairy tale, and this doesn’t mean anything.
I hum. “Was it hard for you? Not getting to know your mom?”
He shrugs. “A little. When I was a kid and I would see every kid I went to school with their moms, I wondered what it would be like. Having a mom, I mean.”
My heart tightens at the sound of his monotone, serious voice. Is this how Lorenzo acts around people? Detached? Like he doesn’t care? It must have been so hard on him. My mom is my life, despite everything, and I don’t know what I would do without her.
My fingers trace another tattoo, opting to not push the topic any further. This one is a kitchen knife. It’s simple, but the shading is impressive. I’ve never seen anything like it. “What about this one?”
“I got it when I opened my first restaurant,” he responds simply. “It was the best day of my life. I got to be behind the scenes for the grand opening. I was so in my element, I sometimes wish I could go back in time.”
My hand reaches for his jawline, and I start stroking it softly. “I’m sorry.”
He leans into my touch, his eyes never leaving mine. Even in the night, his eyes are the most beautiful light shade of brown. “For what?” he asks softly.
There are so many things I want to say, I don’t even know where to begin .
For the fact that the cards life dealt you were not the best.
For the fact that you feel trapped in your life and don’t know how to get out of it.
For the fact that you’re such a wonderful man and you deserve so much more.
The last thought flips my stomach, making my heart clench, but I shut the door on it before it goes too damn far. Something I’ve become accustomed to doing around Lorenzo.
I shrug, opting to not reply. Instead, I say, “You haven’t asked me any questions today.”
He hums, contemplating. “What am I going to do with you?”
“What do you mean?”
“With this. With us,” he whispers.
A million thoughts run through my head.
Does he feel it, too?
How everything is shifting?
Does he feel different about me?
Is he regretting this deal?
“You’re going to let me be yours for now.” I muster a fake smile, hoping he doesn’t see through my bullshit. Hoping he doesn’t see that if my life were any different, I might hope for more.
“And when it’s over?” he asks softly, his brown eyes flashing with a hint of something. Vulnerability, maybe?
Impossible.
I turn around and reach for the nightlight to turn it off, needing a moment to digest the question. He wraps his hand around my waist, closing the gap between us. The warmth of his body against mine feels like belonging. Like this is where I’m meant to be.
“We’ll look back and remember how this was the summer of our lives, and how much fun we had,” I answer simply, hoping he doesn’t feel the way my heart is pulsing wildly.
He lets out a deep sigh and kisses the top of my head. I love it when he does that. “Non so come potrò mai lasciarti andare? 1 .”
“What does that mean?”
He clicks his tongue, shaking his head. “You asked too many questions tonight.”
I hadn’t noticed, but he’s right. And he answered them all without hesitation.
I don’t know what any of this means anymore. We say we’re friends with benefits, but then I turn around and ask him to stay over. We say we’re having fun for the summer, but then he opens up to me without any doubt, and it confuses me even more. I try to convince myself this is all part of the deal, yet the way he holds me in his arms has my heart believing otherwise. The way he holds me feels like forever. Like there are unspoken promises he’s making.
I’m playing with fire.
I know it.
I can feel it in my bones.
Yet, I can’t bring myself to stop.
1 ? I don't know how I'll ever let you go.