Chapter 48
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Sophia
Iwake to Lorenzo's lips on my neck, his body pressed against mine from behind. We're still fully dressed from earlier, tangled in sheets and each other.
"Can't sleep?" I whisper into the darkness.
"Need you." His voice is raw, broken. His hand slides under my shirt, palm flat against my stomach. "Need to feel you're real."
I turn in his arms, finding his face in the dim light filtering through the curtains. His eyes are wild, desperate.
"I'm here." I cup his jaw. "I'm real."
He kisses me like he's drowning and I'm air. There's nothing gentle about it—teeth and tongue and desperate need. His hands are everywhere at once, pulling at my clothes with trembling fingers.
"Slow down," I breathe against his mouth, but he shakes his head.
"Can't." He yanks my shirt over my head. "Need to be inside you. Need to forget everything but this."
I understand. After everything he needs to lose himself. And I need to be what grounds him.
My jeans disappear along with his clothes, thrown carelessly aside. When his mouth finds my breast, I arch beneath him, fingers tangling in his hair.
"Sophia." My name is a prayer on his lips as he moves lower, kissing across my ribs, my hip bone. "Mine. You're mine."
"Yes." I pull him back up, needing his weight on me, his mouth on mine. "Yours."
He enters me in one hard thrust that steals my breath. There's no patience tonight, no careful control. Just raw need and desperate hunger.
"Look at me." His hand grips my jaw, forcing my eyes to his. "Don't close your eyes. Need to see you."
I hold his gaze as he moves inside me, each thrust deeper than the last. The headboard slams against the wall, but neither of us cares who hears.
"Harder," I gasp, nails raking down his back.
He hooks my leg over his shoulder, changing the angle, and I cry out at the intensity. His thumb finds that sensitive spot between us, circling with practiced precision.
"Come for me." It's not a request. "Now, Sophia."
My body obeys him instantly, pleasure crashing through me in waves. I bite his shoulder to muffle my scream, tasting salt and skin.
He follows immediately, my name torn from his throat as he empties himself inside me. His body shudders against mine, and I hold him through it, stroking his hair as he collapses on top of me.
We stay like that, joined and breathless, while our hearts slow. His weight should be crushing, but it's exactly what I need—proof he's here, he's mine, we're real.
"I love you," he murmurs against my neck. "God help me, I love you so much it terrifies me."
"I love you too." I press a kiss to his temple. "We'll figure this out. All of it."
He lifts his head to look at me, and the vulnerability in his eyes makes my chest ache.
"What if I can't forgive him? What if this breaks us all permanently?"
"Then we build something new." I trace the worry lines on his forehead. "You and me. Whatever happens with your family, we'll face it together."
He kisses me again, softer this time. When he starts to harden inside me again, I roll my hips experimentally.
"Again?" I tease, though my body is already responding.
"Again." He pulls out slowly, then pushes back in, making me gasp. "And again. Until nothing exists but this."
This time is slower, deeper. He watches my face as he moves, memorizing every expression. When I start to close my eyes, he stops.
"Eyes on me," he commands softly. "Always on me."
I obey, losing myself in his gaze as he takes us both apart piece by piece, rebuilding us into something stronger with every touch.
Lorenzo
I wake before dawn with Sophia curled against my chest, her breath warm on my skin. My hand traces the curve of her spine, needing the contact, the proof she's here and whole.
She stirs, pressing closer. "Can't sleep?"
"Just thinking." My fingers tangle in her hair.
"Stop thinking." She lifts her head, eyes still heavy with sleep. "You think too much."
Before I can respond, she's straddling me, the sheet falling away from her naked body. The bruises on her throat are fading but still visible—purple fingerprints that make rage burn in my chest.
"Hey." She cups my face, reading my thoughts. "He's dead. You killed him. I'm safe."
"You almost weren't." My hands grip her hips, probably too tight, but she doesn't complain. "I almost lost you."
"But you didn't." She rocks against me, and my body responds instantly. "I'm right here."
She reaches between us, guiding me inside her with a soft gasp. We both freeze at the connection, at the perfect way she fits around me.
"Fuck, Sophia." My head falls back against the pillow as she starts to move, slow and deliberate.
"That's the idea." Her nails scrape down my chest, leaving marks I'll wear proudly.
I watch her ride me in the pale morning light—the way her head tips back, lips parted, breasts moving with each roll of her hips. She's devastating like this, taking what she wants, using my body for her pleasure.
"Touch yourself," I command, voice rough. "Let me watch."
Her hand slides between her legs without hesitation, fingers circling where we're joined. The sight nearly ends me right there.
"Lorenzo." My name is a whimper as she speeds up, chasing her release.
I thrust up to meet her movements, hitting deeper, and she cries out. Her inner walls start to flutter, and I know she's close.
"That's it, tesoro." I grip her hips harder, controlling the rhythm. "Take what you need."
She comes with a broken sob, body arching beautifully as pleasure wracks through her. I follow immediately, unable to hold back when she clenches around me like a vice.
She collapses onto my chest, both of us breathing hard. I stroke her hair, her back, anywhere I can reach.
"Better?" she murmurs against my throat.
"Getting there."
She lifts her head, studying my face. "We should talk about Luna. About what happens next."
"Later." I roll us over, pinning her beneath me. "Right now, I need this. Need you."
I'm already hardening again inside her, and her eyes widen.
"Lorenzo—"
I silence her with a kiss, deep and claiming. When I pull back, her pupils are blown wide.
"Hands above your head," I order softly.
She obeys immediately, fingers gripping the headboard. The trust in her eyes undoes me.
I start moving again, slow and deep, watching her face for every reaction. When I hit a particularly good angle, her back bows off the bed.
"There," she gasps. "Right there."
I maintain that angle, that pressure, building her up gradually this time. My mouth finds her breast, teeth grazing her nipple, and she moans.
"Louder," I demand against her skin. "Want everyone to know who you belong to."
"You," she cries out as I thrust harder. "Only you."
My hand wraps gently around her throat, not squeezing, just holding. She trusts me even with this, after everything.
"Mine," I growl, feeling her start to tighten around me again. "Say it."
"Yours," she gasps. "Always yours."
I increase the pace, driving into her with purpose now. The headboard slams against the wall with each thrust, but I don't care who hears. Let them all know she's mine, that we're unbreakable despite everything.
"Lorenzo, I'm—"
"I know." I can feel it building in her, the way her thighs tremble, how her breathing catches. "Let go, baby. I've got you."