Chapter 49
Isabella
If I kept chewing on my fingernails, I was going to make myself bleed. “You’ve got to stop watching the clock,” Amalia said softly. I looked across the kitchen counter at her, and she offered me a wobbly smile.
I couldn’t reciprocate. “How long do these types of things usually drag on for?” Hours ago, Lorenzo, Elio, and Damian had left with two guards that I hadn’t been introduced to, and every other second I panicked with the idea that something had gone terribly wrong, and we were one phone call away from tragedy.
Jesus, you’re being dramatic. But I couldn’t help it. There was a squirming tangle of anxiety in the pit of my stomach that was only getting worse the longer Lorenzo was gone.
“Elio was gone for three weeks once,” Amalia said. “I still don’t know what he was doing, and I don’t really want to know, but by the time he came back, I kept him strapped to our bed for two days straight.” She smirked, but her gaze was far away, as if she were lost in a fond memory.
“I don’t think I can feel like this for three weeks,” I muttered, pressing my hand against my chest, as if it would ease the tightness there. Amalia practically cooed at me, and I had never wanted to slap someone so much before. “It’s not funny.”
The smile on her face disappeared, and her eyes grew somber. “I know,” she said and reached across the counter for my hand. “It doesn’t get any easier; you should know that now.”
I wanted to take my hand back, tell her for the umpteenth time that Lorenzo and I weren’t anything…but the vice in my chest choked off the argument. “How do you handle it?”
She squeezed my hand. “You look forward to when he comes back through that door,” she said. “You hold on tight while he’s here.”
Headlights bounced through the windows and stretched along the wall as a vehicle pulled up the driveway. Both of our focus immediately went to the door, and after holding our breath for what seemed like forever, that door finally opened.
Elio stepped into the kitchen first. He had a cut on his eyebrow, and a bruise blooming on his cheek, but mostly, he looked to be in one piece. He smirked at Amalia. “You were waiting for me, tesoro?”
“Upstairs,” she said simply. “Now.”
A visible shiver ran through him, and I watched, amazed, as Amalia led him away with a sway in her hips and a pretty smile curving her mouth. “I’ve watched that man eviscerate someone before.” I turned and saw Damian and Lorenzo coming through the kitchen door.
“But she makes him look like a puppy,” I said, and Damian nodded. “Are you okay?”
Damian did a turn, giving me a three-sixty view. “I’m going to ice my shoulder and head to bed,” he said. “I’ll call the PT in the morning for any soreness.”
I gave him a tight smile. “Thank you.” Then, the only thing I could do was look at Lorenzo. “Are you hurt?”
He shook his head. “I’m fine. Elio got the worst of it because he got over excited.”
Fine didn’t mean not injured at all. “Upstairs,” I said, repeating Amalia’s words. “Now.”
Lorenzo raised his eyebrow, a question and a challenge all at once. “You think you can order me around like Amalia does Elio, dolcezza? I’m not so easy to—”
I stood and held out my hand. “Come with me,” I pleaded. “I just want to make sure that you’re okay.”
“I told you—”
I cut him off. “Let me see for myself.” He followed me upstairs to his bedroom. Once the door shut behind us, I grabbed for the edge of his shirt and drew it up.
“Isabella, really, you don’t need to.”
I glared at him and continued to tug up his shirt until I pulled it over his head. There was a deep contusion that wrapped around his side that looked like he’d been hit with something blunt. I could feel my mouth twisting into a frown as I reached out to touch it.
Lorenzo caught my fingers, drawing my eyes to his. “I’m. Fine.”
“You could have broken ribs.”
“I don’t,” he said. “I know what broken ribs feel like; they’re bruised, at best.”
“Why did anyone get that close to you?” Lorenzo had taken guns with him. Why on earth would he ever let someone that close?
“I was trying not to kill him,” he said.
“I needed someone to run a message for me.” It wasn’t a satisfying answer, and I huffed, annoyed more than I really should be for the situation.
I wanted him to come home, and now that he was here, I was irritated looking at him.
“Isabella?” His hands touched my face. “You’re trembling. ”
I hadn’t realized that I was, but once he said something, I became aware that I was shaking. My breath came out in pants; I was on the verge of panicking, and I couldn’t exactly explain why, even to myself.
“Get on the bed,” I told him. “On your back.”
Lorenzo blinked, obviously surprised by my demand, but he did as I asked. Once he settled on the mattress, I climbed onto the bed after him. “Dolcezza.”
I slung my leg over his hips and straddled him. Staring down at him, I pulled my sweater off over my head and tossed it behind me. Lorenzo immediately reached out, but I pushed his hands back down onto the bed. “Leave them there,” I said. “You don’t get to touch me until I say so. Yes?”
We both knew that he could flip me over at any time, and I would let him because I loved being spread out on a mattress beneath him, but Lorenzo nodded. “I’m yours, dolcezza.”
Are you? I wanted to ask, but the answer would only ruin this moment.
“Keep your eyes on me,” I said instead. I undid the front clasp of my bra and slid it down my arms. Lorenzo’s eyes went dark, and I arched my back, satisfied with the way he looked at me.
It was always as if he had never seen me naked before.
I ran my hands up my torso and cupped my own breasts, taking the weight of them into my hands.
My breath hitched at the feel of my nipple pebbling beneath my palm.
After teasing myself for a moment, I slid a hand down, slipping it beneath the waistband of the yoga pants that I had put on that morning.
“Isabella.” His words were a warning that I was all too happy to ignore.
“You said you wouldn’t touch me,” I reminded him, sighing as I slipped my fingers into my panties. “I didn’t say that I wouldn’t.” Lorenzo closed his eyes, and I froze. “Look at me, Lorenzo,” I said. “I want you to watch.”
His chest rose and fell as he sucked in a deep breath, and then his eyes opened again.
As soon as he did, I grazed my finger over my clit.
A shiver ran through me, and I bit down on my lip as I began to circle the sensitive nub.
My movements were hampered by my clothes, but that somehow made everything even more exciting.
It felt illicit, like I was doing something that I shouldn’t be.
“Let me touch you,” Lorenzo said. “You know I can do it so much better.”
I kept playing with my clit, wriggling against him until he groaned. “I think I’m doing just fine on my own.”
I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to beg for me, or snap and take me, but the dark, almost feral look on his face was giving me the biggest dopamine high. I needed more of it. This is beyond fucked, I thought, but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted him.
My fingers were wet when I brought my hand back out of my pants. Shaking slightly, I reached out and pressed those same fingers to Lorenzo’s bottom lip. His breath caught in his throat, and his eyes never left mine as he opened his mouth for me. Lorenzo flicked his tongue out, groaning slightly.
I moaned right alongside him, fully aware what he was capable of with his tongue…
and from the smirk that stretched across his face, he knew exactly what I was thinking.
Before he could say something that would, invariably, have me on my back, I moved away so that I could shuck the rest of my clothes.
“Do you—?” I couldn’t figure out a good way to ask for what I wanted. “Can I—?”
“Whatever you want,” Lorenzo assured me. I could feel his eyes tracking me up and down. “You can do whatever you want.”
“You may regret that.”
His smile was absolutely devious. “I seriously doubt that.” Climbing back onto the bed, I moved so that I was nearer to his shoulders. Lorenzo looked confused for a moment, and then I saw recognition spark in his expression. He licked his lips. “Do it,” he said. It came out like a plea.
With a breath, I slung my leg across his chest. I grabbed the headboard and used it to balance so that I could move up to hover over his face.
For a split-second, I felt horrendously awkward, but then Lorenzo wrapped his hands around my thighs and brought me down so that I was actually sitting on his face.
The moment his tongue touched me, I knew that I was in trouble. I tightened my grip and, with an encouraging squeeze from Lorenzo, grinded against his face. He moaned against me, lapping at my clit, and I tipped my head back with a soft cry.
I rode his tongue, his lips, until my thighs felt wobbly, and I was absolutely aching to have him inside me. Tension built and built, and finally, I wrenched myself to the side. “Inside,” I demanded, grabbing at him. “I need you inside.”
Lorenzo was up and over me in an instant. His face was wet from me; his eyes were wild. Unzipping the fly of his jeans, he pushed inside me. A deep, guttural sound escaped his throat, and I answered it with a whimper.
My fingers dug into his shoulders as he clung to me just as tightly. His lips brushed across my cheek, and drank deeply from my mouth. We were on the precipice together, and all I wanted was to fall over that edge. “Come with me,” I begged, tucking my face against his shoulder. “Please, Lorenzo.”
It was as if my desperation drove him on, and his hips fucked into me faster, chasing his pleasure. The tension in my belly let go, and I came with a whine that seemed to drag Lorenzo over the edge as well.