Chapter 28 - Isabella
Isabella
“Lorenzo!” My belly was full of fire, and it was leaching into every part of me.
From the tips of my toes to my fingertips to the top of my head.
Instinctively, I tried to reach down and touch him, but the rope that secured my wrists to the headboard tightened, reminding me that I was at Lorenzo’s mercy.
I had every intention of going straight to bed when we’d gotten home from our not-date, but he had insisted that he “apologize” to me for how everything turned out.
Except he would never say those actual words, of course.
Instead, he’d taken a length of nylon rope out of a dresser drawer and asked if I trusted him.
I had no idea why I said yes. But Lorenzo had already pulled three orgasms from me with his tongue, and a fourth was coming.
I could feel it in that wonderful, awful fire burning through me.
I dug my toes into his back and pulled at my restraints again, moaning.
Despite being tied down, I had never felt less anchored in my entire life.
I couldn’t decide whether I hated it, or if I never wanted it to end.
“I know you’re close again,” Lorenzo teased, pulling back just enough so that he could look me in the eye.
He flicked his tongue out again, teasing over my clit, and my pussy clenched around the two fingers that he had tucked inside of me.
A near-panicked noise escaped my throat as I teetered on that edge again.
I shook my head, almost pulling a muscle in my neck; my hips tried to move away from his touch.
It all felt so good that it was scary, and my body didn’t know what to do with it all.
Without my needing to explain, Lorenzo understood. He didn’t stop touching me, but he did slow down, let my body ease back a bit. “Are you done, Isabella?” he asked. All of the teasing had dropped from his voice. “It’s okay if you are; you just need to tell me.”
The prospect of stopping didn’t do a thing to calm my nerves. If anything, it made it worse. I glanced up at my secured wrists. “Can you—?”
He reached up and pulled at the rope; the knots fell away in an instant. Lorenzo examined my wrists, rubbing softly over the red lines that braceleted them. “Do you want to get in the shower? I’ll go start it for you.”
My heart flipped in my chest. Why did he have to be like this?
He’d pushed me away at the casino. I had felt it.
But now, he was being so careful with me.
Lorenzo Vitali could never be a delicate man, but the way he was looking at me right now was so…
soft. Fond, almost. “I want you.” The words came out in a whisper, a plea.
Lorenzo didn’t ask me if I was sure, or if I was sore at all.
Instead, he stood and took off the slacks that he hadn’t bothered to remove before.
I couldn’t help but stare at how hard he was.
I don’t know what I looked like, but Lorenzo groaned, and then he was between my thighs again.
He pushed inside of me in one, long thrust.
His pace was immediate and furious, and I scrambled to find something to hold on to.
One hand gripped his back; the other was tangled in the blanket beneath me.
I could hear myself whining and moaning and begging, but none of it made sense to me.
All of it seemed to incense Lorenzo, who was fucking into me so hard that he was shunting my body up the bed.
The headboard kept pace with him as it smacked into the wall.
The orgasm that I had run from before was barreling down on me again, but this time, I wanted it. I needed it. That feeling grew and grew and grew until, finally, it let go, and I went screaming over the edge.
“Fuck,” Lorenzo groaned. “You just got so much wetter, dolcezza. Pussy feels so fucking good.” He lost his rhythm chasing his own orgasm fast and furious, and I whimpered when he finally came inside me.
It took me way too many tries to get out: “I can’t feel my legs.”
Lorenzo laughed. “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll carry you to the shower.”
Shit, there was that feeling again in my chest. He was cruel for being sweet to me, but only ever in the context of sex or just after.
Because I knew, probably better than anyone, that the laughter and smiles I was getting now would be gone the second the shower ended.
Then it would be me waiting to get them back while I navigated the pitfalls and land mines that came with living in this house.
I had to be a masochist, right? Knowing all of that, and still feeling the way that I did every time one of those smiles was aimed my way.
I woke up alone the next morning, and when I glanced at the clock on Lorenzo’s bedside table, I could see it was later than normal too.
When I sat up, my stomach immediately started rolling, and I nearly collapsed back again.
It would feel better in a moment, I knew, but it made getting up harder of a task than it needed to be.
Slowly, I made my way to the bathroom and did my normal morning routine.
When I opened the cabinet beneath the sink, I paused when I saw the box of tampons that I had moved back and forth between the ensuite in the blue guest room and here.
It was still sealed. Beside that box was the opened pregnancy test that Amalia had given me; there was a second test in it that I hadn’t bothered with after the first test I’d taken was negative.
But that had been weeks ago, and I still hadn’t gotten my period. I reached for the pregnancy test. It couldn’t hurt to be sure, right? Maybe I needed to scare my period into coming.
Three minutes later, however, I was looking at two pink lines. Positive pink lines. “Oh,” I breathed out. My heart kicked against my ribs. I was pregnant, like for real.
It shouldn’t be surprising, after having so much unprotected sex with Lorenzo, but I was shocked all the same. I touched my stomach, flat and unassuming, and emotion like I had never felt before gripped me. I was going to have a baby. I had never—
The baby isn’t yours. It was a cruel thought, something dark and bitter slithering up from the recesses of my mind, but it wasn’t wrong. This baby wouldn’t be mine; I wouldn’t get to be a mother.
Lorenzo wasn’t interested in anything to do with me that wasn’t sexual. He had made that clear over and over again. It wasn’t like I could fault him for leading me on.
I couldn’t stay in the bathroom for much longer. Someone would come looking for me eventually. But it was hard to make myself leave. A part of me didn’t want to say anything to anyone, keep things a secret, but I knew that I couldn’t do that.
Lorenzo might, legitimately, kill me if that were the case.
The walk to his office was slow, but I had nearly convinced myself that saying something immediately was for the best when I paused outside the door. I was going to knock…but then again, fuck it. I was about to tell him something he wanted to hear.
I wasn’t expecting to see Lorenzo and Elio standing over Damian, who was pale. His shirt was soaked with blood.
Lorenzo looked at me, jaw set. “Now isn’t a good—”
But I wasn’t paying attention to him. I had lasered in on Damian; he was a minute or two away from passing out.
“One of you go get a first aid kit,” I barked.
“Why wouldn’t you come get me immediately?
” There was a pause, and then Elio was moving.
“Can we take your shirt off?” I asked Damian. “I need to see.”