Chapter 11 Isabella
Isabella
Icouldn’t stop crying, and I couldn’t explain why. “I’m sorry,” I muttered over and over until Lorenzo stood up and pulled me to my feet. He wrapped an arm around my waist, keeping me close. His thumb brushed my cheek, collecting the tears there.
“You said yes before,” he said against my hair.
I sniffled, tears still welling up and falling down my face. “I said I would think about it. Then, we had our fight.”
“I’m not used to hearing the word no, dolcezza.” Hearing him call me that made the knot between my shoulder blades relax, even if it was only infinitesimally. “Especially after I went to so much effort.”
I tensed up all over again. “I’m sorry,” I said into his chest, absolutely miserable.
“You said that you love me.”
“I do.”
“But you don’t want to marry me,” he said and tipped my face up to his. “Talk to me, Isabella, because I thought I was getting it right this time.”
God, my face was going to hurt from all the crying.
I could already feel my cheeks getting puffy.
“Marrying you means signing on for all of it,” I admitted.
“I almost died again because of you. I mean, my father was involved, but being at war with a Russian mobster?” I shook my head.
“It’s too much. Any sane person would say no. ”
A look crossed over his face, and then he made a noise like he agreed with me.
“I can see where that could be a concern.” I thought he might turn me loose so that he could keep talking, but instead, he bent and pressed his lips to mine.
“Do you want to stay here tonight? Or would you rather head home?”
Lorenzo actually wanted to stay here? And do what, continue our night? “You really want to stay here, with me?”
“A lot has happened over the last few months. It would be good to get away for a night. Besides, it’s my hotel, dolcezza,” he reminded me.
“I have personally vetted everyone who works here. We’re safe here.
” He dipped and pressed a kiss to my lips.
Then, his lips brushed down my cheek and nipped at my ear.
“Where do you want me to have you? Here? Or in our bed at home?”
I shivered but did my level-best not to simply melt into him. “Shouldn’t we talk some more?”
Lorenzo swept my hair out of the way and whispered his words into my shoulder, “Sure,” he said. “Let’s talk.” But, even as he said that his hands pulled me against him, and I had to bite back a whimper at the feel of his body against mine.
“This isn’t talking,” I said. “Just because I let you…” Heat rose in my cheeks, and Lorenzo grinned, a shark going for the kill.
“Because you let me do what, dolcezza?” he asked, taunting me.
I straightened my spine, putting some steel in my voice. “Just because I let you touch me earlier doesn’t mean that I’m going to now.”
God, I sounded like an idiot. Any other girl would be jumping for joy at the prospect of a romantic night in a luxury suite like this, to be proposed to by a man like Lorenzo, but my chest ached.
I closed my eyes, resting my forehead against his chest again. Lorenzo let me; he cupped the back of my neck and held me. “Tell me what’s got you thinking so hard.”
I hated myself. Swallowing, I asked, “Could you still love me? Even though I said no?”
The silence that followed had dread pooling in my belly. He’s going to say no, I thought. I would deserve that for turning him down. Why wouldn’t he hate me?
Lorenzo brought my chin up so that I was forced to look at him. “You’re mine,” he told me. “I’m never letting you go again.”
It sounded deranged, and if Lorenzo were any other man, I would have taken off running. But the band of anxiety that had been crushing my chest relaxed the littlest bit, and I was able to breathe again. “I do love you,” I said, unable to think of anything else to say.
Lorenzo’s eyes were liquid fire, burning through me.
It was on the tip of my tongue to apologize again.
But then he reached down and swept me into his arms, bridal style, and I yelped, wrapping my arms around his neck.
Without a word, he walked into the suite.
I expected to see the waiter, or someone, scurrying around to clean up the table on the balcony, but the penthouse seemed empty as he carried me through the main room and down a hallway to the master bedroom.
Where Lorenzo’s room at the estate was all moody and dark, everything here was light. The linens were white, and so were the gauzy curtains that hung over the French doors. I only got a glimpse of it all before Lorenzo lowered me onto the massive bed, and then all I could see was him.
Our mouths met, and for a long while, those long, drugging kisses were enough. As soon as our lips parted, however, all of the want and desire that I had been pushing down suddenly boiled over, and my body was set alight. I needed so much more than his lips on mine.
I pushed at his chest, and Lorenzo backed off immediately. “Dolcezza, is something wrong?”
Instead of answering, I sat up and reached behind me, unzipping the back of my dress enough that I could push it down my arms. It puddled at my waist, leaving my chest bare to his gaze.
I looked at him, expectant, but Lorenzo didn’t move to touch me or push me back on the bed.
Nothing. It was off-putting. Not because Lorenzo was predictable, by any means, but because I knew that he wanted me.
So, why was he suddenly holding back when he never did before?
“Are you just going to sit there?” I finally asked, wrapping my arms around myself.
For all of his nonchalance, Lorenzo did seem to have a hard time looking away from my breasts, which shouldn’t be flattering, but I found myself arching my back just a little to watch him sweat. “You haven’t told me what you want,” he said.
Asking for things was a thing for Lorenzo, and I knew that, but this seemed different. He wasn’t behaving like he normally would, and it was throwing me off. “Getting half naked wasn’t enough of a hint for you?”
“Tell me what you want, Isabella,” he commanded, and this time, he sounded like himself.
“I want your hands on me.”
Lorenzo slid his hand up my calf, gentle and infuriating. “Like this?”
I was going to hurt him. “You’re the one who brought me in here. It’s not nice to tease,” I said.
But he only smiled. “I’m just trying to get my love to tell me exactly what she wants.” His fingers massaged into my calf and slid higher to the back of my knee. It tickled, and I jerked in his grip with a whine. “You don’t want my ring, so you have to tell me what you do want.”
“Lorenzo.”
“Just say what you want, dolcezza,” he said. His tone was mocking now, and I should be getting angry. I was getting angry, but it was the kind of frustration that made things in my lower belly clench with want. “You know I’ll give it to you.”
My hands bunched in the fabric in my lap. It shouldn’t be hard for me to tell him what I wanted, but somehow, being forced to say it out loud was humiliating…but, admittedly, having Lorenzo sit there and stare down at me was worse.
I shifted so that I could wrap my arms around his neck and pressed my body against him. “Make love to me,” I murmured. “Please.”
“Goddamn it,” he swore, shuddering in my arms. Suddenly, I was on my back again, blinking up at him.
Without a word, he pulled my dress the rest of the way off and took my panties with it.
His expression was torn between incredibly fond and impossibly pissed off.
“Ruining all my plans tonight, dolcezza.”
“Lorenzo?”
He hushed me, and all I could do was watch, frozen in place, as he shucked off his own clothes.
When all I could see was miles of bare skin, Lorenzo leaned down and caged me in against the mattress.
“I should be punishing you right now,” he muttered.
He kissed me, long and deep, and I wrapped my arms and legs around him, needing to hold him close. “I should be furious with you.”
“You can be,” I promised. He could be mad all he liked, so long as he kept touching me. Our hands roamed over each other’s skin as if we had been apart for years.
By the time Lorenzo adjusted himself so that he was pressed against my pussy, I was shaking for him. I barely breathed when he tucked himself inside of me; I panted against his neck and dug my fingers into his broad shoulders.
Lorenzo gave me a moment to feel how he filled me before he began to move. Each thrust sent pleasure skittering through me, and I squeezed him with my legs, unwilling to let him even entertain the idea of slipping away from me.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured against my throat.
Our hands clutched as we moved against each other, chasing pleasure but unwilling to let each other go so that we could quicken our pace.
I didn’t need or want for him to be rough tonight.
I wanted to stay in his arms for as long as I could.
I wanted that assurance that he really wasn’t going to push me away.
I knew that it was cruel of me to turn him down and then expect him to stay, but I was coming to accept that loving Lorenzo would mean being confused and conflicted a lot of the time.
So maybe it was fair that I caused a little chaos for him as well.
Intense pleasure racked my body, and I clung to him, whimpering into his mouth, as my orgasm enveloped me. Lorenzo’s hips kicked harder into mine, and he groaned as he found his own end. “I love you,” he murmured hoarsely over and over.
I carded my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. “I love you too,” I said.
“Then, marry me,” he said.
I tightened my fingers in his hair, just until he made a sound of protest. “No,” I repeated. “For so many reasons, I can’t. I’m sorry.”
Lorenzo was quiet for a long while. We lay there, holding each other, letting our heartbeats slow again. “I’m not giving up,” he said finally.
“Huh?”
“I’ll keep asking,” he clarified. “Until you’re ready to say yes.”
I wanted to tell him not to waste his time, because it wasn’t like my reasons were just going to disappear, but I didn’t.
I held my tongue and kept holding on to him.
The wounds that had been made on my heart weren’t magically healed.
At best, they were scabbed over, and I was sure I had inflicted new ones on Lorenzo.
But still, lying here with him, I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.
Lorenzo Vitali might drag me to hell eventually, but so long as I could stay with him, I’d go gladly.