10. Isabella
CHAPTER 10
Isabella
T here was no way this was a good idea. Yet, when Lorenzo slid his big, warm hands around my waist, I shivered in want. I couldn’t keep denying how badly I wanted him, even if admitting it made my stomach roll.
Lorenzo tightened his grip on me. “Such a tiny thing,” he murmured, more to himself than me.
“I’m not,” I insisted. “You’re just big.” I regretted the second I said it. Lorenzo’s smile made him look far too pleased with that compliment. “If you say one thing, I swear?—”
He bent and pressed his mouth to mine, cutting me off, and I told myself to pull away, to prove that I wouldn’t melt for him. Make him work for it, damn it, I told myself. Except, I was lost the moment he kissed me. My lips parted for his tongue, and my fingers linked around his neck, anchoring myself.
Before I could register what was happening, I was on my back on the bed with Lorenzo hovering over me. I had never felt like the dainty type: short, yes, with a solid build. But I was dwarfed beneath Lorenzo Vitali. “See?” he said against my mouth, as if he could read my mind. “You’re so tiny.”
I didn’t know why the idea of him being so much bigger than me made me ache. I liked the idea of being at his mercy…and I hated myself for even thinking it. But I had never needed someone like this before. I squirmed against him, trying to get relief somehow, which made Lorenzo chuckle. He kissed me again, deep and heady and filthy, until I was clinging to his shoulders.
Lorenzo broke our kiss and pulled back a little so that he sat on his heels. “Show me,” he commanded.
Huh? “Show you?”
“Open your thighs,” he said, voice low and deep, “and show me your pussy.” My legs parted as if he’d said the magic words; it hadn’t even been a conscious thought. Lorenzo rumbled with pleasure. He reached out and ran his fingers up my slit, and I gasped as the tip of his finger glided over my clit, a quick, fleeting touch that made my back arch. “So sweet for me already,” he mused, sliding his finger up and down again, teasing everything that was sensitive but not touching enough to do anything besides drive me absolutely crazy.
I reached down and grabbed his hand, trying to press him against me harder. “Touch. Me.”
Heat flashed across his face, and he grabbed both of my hands with one of his and pinned them over my head. “Behave.”
He said it in a way that brooked no argument, like I was meant to comply, no matter what, and a part of me seethed with the arrogance of it. “Make me,” I spat before I could think it through.
His fingers squeezed around my wrists tightly enough that it drove a sound from my throat. “I was going to go easy on you, Isabella,” he grounded out. “But you had to be a fucking brat, didn’t you?”
That wasn’t the first time he’d called me a brat, but it still set my teeth on edge. “You can’t just expect me to follow your every command.”
He plunged a finger inside of me, rough and all too sudden, and I cried out at the intrusion. “I do expect you to listen to me and follow my every command,” he said, parroting my words back at me, and while there was heat in his eyes, his voice was calm, detached, and I hated it immediately. I was burning up from the inside out, and I wanted him feeling that fire with me. Lorenzo curved his finger up, touching something inside of me that nearly knocked the air out of my lungs.
Well, hello, G-spot. I didn’t think you were real .
“I expect you to behave,” said and tapped his finger against that spot again and again, and his thumb circled my clit, and I was spiraling toward an orgasm faster than I ever had in my entire life.
“Oh God ,” I moaned out. My muscles spasmed around his finger, so close, but just before everything let loose, Lorenzo pulled his hand away. I clenched around nothing; the sudden emptiness brought tears to my eyes. “What? No!”
Lorenzo’s indifferent expression stung even worse. “Only good girls get to come, Isabella,” he said. “Only good girls who behave, understand?”
Oh, fuck you . The words formed in my mouth, but when he raised his eyebrow in question, I swallowed them back. He wasn’t playing with me; he really would leave me like this. I had no doubt about it. “I understand,” I said, forcing the words out.
He smiled now, amused. “Oh, you hated saying that, didn’t you?” He slipped a finger back inside of me, and his smile sharpened. He fucked into me faster and faster, and I wailed as pleasure flooded my nervous system. “Do you hear that, Isabella? You’re fucking soaked. Your little bratty act doesn’t fool me for a second. Not when your pussy is weeping like this.” I could hear the slick sound of his finger thrusting in and out and whimpered, humiliated but so painfully turned on.
I was getting close again. I could feel it building like a cup filling up with water. Sooner rather than later, that cup would spill over, and I wanted it. Needed it. “Please,” I murmured, bucking into his touch, trying to ride his hand. “Oh, please, Lorenzo.” He pulled away again, and my body was racked with the ruined orgasm, my muscles clamping down desperately around nothing again. A broken sob ripped out of my throat.
“Ask me,” Lorenzo told me.
“Ask?” I tried to free my arms, but he put more of his weight against my wrists. “Lorenzo?” It felt like I wasn’t seated fully in my own mind. As if I could float away at any moment, and the only thing keeping me tethered to the world was the dangerous man above me.
“Ask me to let you come, dolcezza ,” Lorenzo crooned. His finger played through my wetness, skirting around my clit, dipping inside, but nothing that would start that sweet build-up again.
It should have turned me off, made me laugh, made me do anything besides whine and buck into his touch. “Let me come,” I breathed out. “Please.”
He tutted. “You need to ask for what you want, Isabella,” he said. “No one makes demands of me.”
I shivered. My body was a throbbing, needy thing, and I was at the point that the humiliation was making everything all the headier. “Can I come?” I breathed out. “Please?”
Lorenzo’s fingers immediately pressed back into me, thrusting deep and exactly where I needed it, and I screamed at how fucking good it felt. When his thumb strummed over my clit, I was thrown headlong into an orgasm that felt so good it almost hurt.
When I collapsed against the bed, Lorenzo let go of me. I watched him through hooded eyes as he unzipped his fly and pushed his jeans down his hips enough to free his cock. My mouth went dry. He was big. And by the grin on his face, he knew it too. Fucking insufferable, but if he didn’t fuck me soon, I might just implode.
“Turn over.”
It took me an embarrassing amount of time to comprehend what he was saying, but when I did understand, I couldn’t quite get my muscles to cooperate. Ask for what you want . “Help?”
Lorenzo looked incredibly proud and, with gentle hands, flipped me onto my belly. “Get your ass up, dolcezza .”
I did what he said, keeping my chest pressed to the bed, and I heard him groan. It was the first time that he’d let his mask slip, and I hadn’t been allowed to see it. His hands bracketed my hips. His thumbs dug into my ass cheeks and pulled them apart gently. My face burned, but it was easy to tuck it into the bed and allow myself to disappear into the feeling of it all.
“Fucking beautiful,” Lorenzo said, but I knew I wasn’t expected to respond. Somehow, that made it even easier to slip into my head. The crown of his cock touched me, and I jerked away on instinct. Lorenzo tightened his hold on my hips, hushing me gently, and then he thrust home. I moaned through my teeth as he carved out a space for himself inside of me. “Knew you’d feel like this,” he grunted. “So goddamn tight, I can barely move.” Oh , but I needed him to move. I wriggled against him, and when he stopped me from doing that, I clenched around him. Lorenzo hissed. “Isabella.”
I squeezed around him again. “Please,” I begged. “I need it.”
Lorenzo let out a growl and slid out of me. Tears prickled at my eyes, but before I could do something embarrassing like start blubbering, he drove back inside. Warmth flooded through me; every time he drew back, I could feel my own wetness slipping out. I had always been a one-and-done kind of person when it came to sex—if I came at all—but I could feel myself getting close to the edge again.
I balled my fists in the comforter beneath me and rocked my hips back into him as much as I could. Lorenzo put a hand on my back, pushing me down and adjusting his angle enough that he hit against the wall of my cervix. Pain and pleasure rocketed me toward my second orgasm, and I heard Lorenzo swear as he reached his own end as well.
For a moment, the world slowed to a stop, and then Lorenzo slipped away from me. I winced at how sticky I felt. “I’m going to need another shower.” I glanced at Lorenzo, who was tucking himself back into his jeans.
Oh . I could have predicted that he wasn’t going to get into the shower with me, but seeing him getting dressed so quickly stung more than it should. He looked at me; his expression was entirely unreadable. “Clean up,” he said. “I’ll have someone come change your sheets.”
And then, he was gone, and despite how high he’d taken me, I had never felt lower watching him walk away. He closed the door behind him, and the click of it echoed in my head like a gunshot.