by K. L Mann
“I’ve never done this before, not this way.” I admit.
“Good.” Lorenzo wraps his arms around my thighs and pulls me down.
His tongue dances around my lowest lips and heat flushes all over my body. I feel him make long strokes up and down my wetness and his tongue flicks my clit, torturing me.
My hips move with his tongue without my permission. I can’t stop myself from grinding into the pleasure he’s offering. When the licks become too much, I try to back off of him and lift myself up. His grip on my thighs tightens and holds me in place.
“I’m not done.” Lorenzo warns before I feel his tongue slip inside of me.
“Holy shit.” My eyes roll to the back of my head and endless moans and whimpers pour out of me.
“You taste like fucking plums, love. So goddamn sweet.” Lorenzo only pauses for a moment before blowing cold air on my soaking wetness.
His tongue hits my skin again, taking away the cold chill he just gave me. Lorenzo flicks his tongue faster in ways I never thought could make me squirm so unintentionally. My hips move themselves, chasing what’s building inside of me.
I feel tingles in my feet, making my toes curl. I want to keep watching him, but my head tips back against my will. The ceiling nearly makes me jump when I see it.
I see myself and Lorenzo under me, there’s a fucking mirror on the ceiling.
“No fucking way.” I moan and arch my back to watch myself.
I can’t help but grab one of my breasts and squeeze, seeing myself do it makes it feel even more intense. I can’t hold back any longer. I whimper and bite my lip; my head goes fuzzy.
Pure bliss ripples through me.
Lorenzo’s hold on my thighs calms and his tongue strokes are slow and soothing. I’m completely out of breath when he finally stops. I fall to his side, my legs near his head and my head near his groin.
“You have a mirror on the ceiling.” I rasp.
“I do.” Lorenzo drags a hand up my thigh and grips the inside of it.
“Why?”
“I’ll show you.” Lorenzo smiles darkly.
His hand leaves my thigh as he stands up to take his clothes off. I sit up to watch, not even trying to hide my prying eyes. He unbuttons his shirt first. His painted, chiseled body makes my mouth water. He steps out of his pants and I nearly drool.
This man angers me to no end. He makes me feel safe and I hate it. He makes me feel stupid for feeling safe when he threatens me. He doesn’t trust me, and it drives me mad. But the way our bodies work together, it almost makes it all worth it.
Lorenzo pulls my ankle, dragging my body toward him and pulling my legs apart from each other. “Now…” Lorenzo pulls my ankle to his face. He kisses the inner arch of my foot and I squirm. “Look up, and watch me fuck you.” He bites same part of my foot and I whimper. “Watch what I do to your body, because it’s fucking beautiful.” My foot falls as he releases it.
Lorenzo aligns himself and thrusts inside of me, stretching me in the sweetest, merciless way. His cock makes me feel instantly less empty. It belongs to me; it belongs in me and around me. I make myself look away from his perfect body, and move my gaze up into the mirror.
I see everything. His body and mine melting together violently.
I can’t believe that’s me. I look so good…
“Lorenzo.” I whisper, losing myself in the watch.
I’m forced to focus on my pleasure externally, I feel like I’m dreaming.
“It feels like you’re only watching something, the physical touch takes a backseat.” Lorenzo rasps and pumps deeper into me. “You can’t stop focusing on how fucking good we look, can you?” Lorenzo reads my mind; he always knows exactly what I want to say. I can’t stand it.
“We’re art.” I pant, starting to feel the tension building in my stomach.
“Disastrously perfect, art.” Lorenzo agrees.
His thrusts fill the air with our lustful music.
“Why do we ever stop doing this?” I moan, feeling the edge of my release creeping in.
I feel a strong pressure start to rub my clit. I push back against it, never wanting it to end. Lorenzo groans and grabs one of my breasts and squeezes it. My nipple hardens in his palm.
“Come with me.” I beg, desperately wanting to come undone together.
My ability to hold back is non–existent with him.
“Say please.” Lorenzo teases with a dark grin.
“Please come with me Lorenzo, I can’t wait anymore.”
My plight is all it takes for our combined undoing. We come together, rasping for air through wet kisses. My body shakes into his embrace and our skin statics, like silky electric pulses together.
The storm calms as Lorenzo’s length leaves me.
“You broke tradition.” I accuse him playfully with a smile.
“We broke tradition.”
Lorenzo dresses himself all too quickly, but I stay on the bed breathless. My body feels weak and satisfied. When he’s finished, he watches me, waiting.
“My legs feel numb.” I lie.
I don’t want to get up. The bed feels molded to my body perfectly.
“You need sleep.”
“I know.” I sigh.
My body leaves its comfort and I throw the blanket at the end of the bed around my body. Lorenzo opens the bedroom door for me and we venture to our rooms. He follows me to my door, and surprisingly he comes inside of it with me.
“You said mean things.” I remind him, dropping my blanket and walking into my closet.
“Yes, I did.” Is all I hear him say.
I come out of the closet in a simple black nightgown that hides my pink panties.
“Apologies aren’t really your thing, huh?” I ask, throwing myself on to my bed.
He’s still standing just inside of my door, but it has closed behind him.
“No.” Lorenzo rubs his forehead with two fingers. “I didn’t actually think you did anything with Marco. I was pissed off.” Lorenzo admits that much.
“I wouldn’t do that to you. Minors aren’t really my thing, brother or no brother.”
Things work differently in Italy; they have different laws. Still, my morals aren't geographical. Even if he weren’t 17, he’s Lorenzo's little brother. That kind of betrayal isn’t for me. He’s going to be my family, maybe my friend, but I’ll never look at him like that.
“I know.” Lorenzo is embarrassingly bad at this.
“We’re getting married tomorrow; I know it’s happening. It still doesn’t feel real though.” I confess.
“It’s just a contract.” Lorenzo shrugs.
“That’s all…” I pause. “That’s all this is? A contact?”
“No, that’s all that marriage is. This… I can’t define this, so don’t ask me to.”
“Okay.”
“Goodnight.” Lorenzo turns to leave. “I’ll see you at the altar.” He glances back at me.
“Can’t wait.”
Chapter 22: Til Death
Lorenzo
Fuck. The flames are so fucking hot.
“Dolce!” I yell for my puppy, coughing as more smoke fills my throat.
It’s getting too smokey, I can’t see.
Where is the door?
“Dolce!” I yell out again, panic starting to creep in.
The orange flames are terrifying and getting closer, I can’t find Dolce. The worst smell is burning and I know some of my friends have died. I can’t save them and I can’t see.
“Enzo!” A loud voice rings in my ears. “Lorenzo, yell so I can find you!”
“I can’t find him!” I scream back. “I have to find him!”
I pat out a flame on my shirt and wince at the pain, but try to keep looking.
Strong arms wrap around me and start to pull me away. Gio is pulling me, hitting my arms. He pulls my shirt off of me and wraps a wet cloth around my mouth. I try to protest; I have to find him. But my body feels weak. I can’t see anymore. I can hear
him struggling to pull me out of the building. He’s not giving up, but I am. I’m fading into darkness. My skin is burning me and I can’t handle the pain anymore.
Throwing myself out of bed, I throw a lamp against my bedroom wall.
It shatters and the noise makes me wince.
It’s infuriating how pathetic I am. That’s the day that I can’t get out of my mind? A fucking fire. I’ve killed more people than imaginable; I’ve fought like hell and my name strikes fear in all people who know it’s significance. Yet somehow, I still have PTSD after twenty fucking years. I’m supposed to be cured. I did everything. I took away the only evidence of that day and buried it under ink. The building’s existence has ended and no one talks about it. Gio buried his evidence just as deep and he’s seemingly unaffected. The fuck did I do to deserve this torment?
Is this my penance? Nightmares? It’s more frustrating than anything, God. Can’t come up with anything more creative than childhood trauma affecting a grown man?
Fuck off.
It’s only 5am when I check my phone.
Great.
Katherine
The sun wakes me up. It’s painfully bright and my eyes slam shut as I recognize the burn. I throw my pillow over my face; only then do I open them again. The darkness soothes them. I know I need to wake up, my bladder is full and my day is going to be hectic.
I grumble and throw my pillow off of my head. The sun hurts less the second time it invades my corneas. Pulling myself out of bed, I ignore my surroundings and head straight to my bathroom. My eyes are groggy and my head hurts a bit. I immediately feel the pressure leave my stomach after peeing.
I jump into the shower to wake myself up. I wonder what time it is and how much time I’ll have before I have to walk down an aisle. I let the warm water take over me, falling chaotically, consuming my skin. It feels soft and I bask in it for as long as I can. My feet feel sore against the tile and I know it’s time to actually clean myself. I do, lathering my body with moisturizing body butter and conditioning my hair heavily.
When I turn off the water, the sounds of silence hit my ears. Fog covers the mirror and I brush it away with my hand. I look at myself, feeling lost. I don’t know who I am, I never have. I’ve always been floating between consciousness and now I feel like maybe I have a personality. Maybe I know who I am today, on my second wedding day.
I towel dry my body and brush out of my hair only putting a little cream in it. Reluctantly, I pull out the dryer and get to work. My hair has to be dry and clean for the stylist later. After my hair is nearly free of wetness, I stop the blow dryer. It looks presentable enough. I lather my face with moisturizer and brush my teeth. The rest will be taken care of later.
I drag my feet along the floor to my closet. Putting on a white lingerie set, black cotton leggings, an olive-green crew neck and comfortable black slides I feel better. I slide my ring back on and leave my closet. I check the alarm clock by my bed, I have to do a double take.
It says it's 12pm, but I can’t believe I would have woken up so late.
How long did I shower for?
The ceremony is supposed to be at 3pm, so I need to be there at 1pm. I just figured that I would have been ready to go, hours before this. I guess I am relieved that I don’t have to sit around waiting for as long.
Vito is sitting outside of my door when I leave my room. It almost scares me every morning, if he weren’t so still, I would practically jump out of my skin.
“Good afternoon Vito. Excited to be done guarding me soon?” I ask with a smile.
“Good afternoon signora. I do not mind this job; I might even miss it. There are probably much worse places to be assigned.” He stands up from his chair.
“Point taken; I’ll miss you too.” I declare.
We make our way down the stairs; he follows behind me but doesn’t crowd me. There are a few men dressed identically to Vito in the foyer, some talking, some standing around. I make my way to the kitchen for water. Vito follows me until he sees who's in there, then he returns to the foyer.
Gio and Luca are eating pizza at the counter and Caterina is washing some dishes. Caterina sees me first. This woman needs a vacation.
“Oh, my goodness, Katherine you’re glowing.” She gasps.
The boys turn around to look at me after she speaks.
“Oh please, don’t look too closely.” I grumble, walking to the fridge. “But thank you Caterina. Will you be at the wedding?” I grab a water bottle quickly.
“Yes of course.” Caterina smiles big. “I am very excited to see your happiness. I must go now; I have to clean up before I leave.”
I smile back and take a sip of water.
“See you later.” I tell Caterina as she shuffles out of the room.
“Where’s Lorenzo?” I question Gio and Luca.
“You can’t see him until you walk down the aisle, remember?” Gio tells me after he swallows the food in his mouth.
“Right.” I frown. “We can leave whenever.”
“Eager to be chained?” Luca jokes about the wedding and commitment.
“I do normally prefer being restrained.” I mumble too loudly.
They both just look at me, I feel my face grow hotter.
“Anyways…” I screw the cap back on my bottle and set it down. “The best man and the maid of honor walk down the aisle together.” I raise my eyebrows at Gio suggestively.
“And?” He grumbles.
“You’re actually trying to set up Gio and Arianna?” Luca coughs out a laugh. “Seriously?”
Gio glares at him.
“Oh please, like they wouldn’t make a great couple.” I scoff at Luca.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed or not, but we don’t really do couples.” Luca laughs again.
“Is Lorenzo not proof enough that it’s possible?”
“Sure, except you’re not Gio’s little sister. The kind of relationship you and Lorenzo have is different.” Luca looks at me like I’m crazy.
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe it’s not that deep?” I grumble. “Can we go now?”
“Glady.” Gio stands up and leaves the room first.
“See.” I whisper. “He wants her.”
Luca rolls his eyes. “Or he wants to fuck her perky little brains out.”
I huff and follow after Gio, Luca follows behind me.
The men who were in the foyer are outside now. Four blacked out SUVs are parked in the driveway, waiting. Men start filling them up, Gio gets in the driver’s seat of the third SUV. Luca starts to head for it as well, but I grab his arm to stop him.
“What’s with the protection detail?” I whisper.
Luca looks at my hand on his arm and I retract it slowly.
“They’re working the wedding, that’s all.” Luca continues the path I stopped him from.
The secretive security was one thing, but now Luca is lying about it? What the hell is going on? Whatever, they won’t answer me, even if I asked.
Luca sits in the back with me, not in the front passenger seat. Gio follows two SUVs of men and the last one follows us. I feel like I’m in some sort of Presidential escort and it’s freaking me out. No one talks to me the entire way.
The driveway loop at the estate is full of more men in black suits, valet attendants setting up and employees running in and out of the house with supplies. I hear Gio and Luca get out of the car, but my body doesn’t move. Nerves shake through my veins and I can’t keep staring out my window at the busyness surrounding me.
My door opens and I flinch.
“Are you okay?” Gio looks at me, concerned.
I realize I’m shaking, literally vibrating with anxiousness. Fuck.
“I’m fine.” I let out a shaky breath. “Just nervous.” I admit, forcing myself to climb out of the car.
“Nervous?” He asks in disbelief.
“I don’t like being surrounded like this.” My eyes dart around the groups of men standing guard. “Can we please go i
nside now?”
Gio nods and takes my arm into his, like he thinks I need to be steadied. Maybe I do. He brings me to the second floor, and Arianna finds us.
“What’s wrong?” She rushes to grab my hand.
I must still look petrified, maybe I’m still shaking.
“She’s having a panic attack.” Gio tells her without consulting me.
Arianna’s eyes widen with concern and I glare at him
“I’m fine, just a little overwhelmed with all of the people.” I correct him.
All of the men. Men like Gustavo’s men, holding me back. Cornering me.
“Well, let’s get you into the bridal suite!” Arianna encourages.
Gio lets go of my arm and Arianna pulls my hand to make my feet follow her. They move at her pace, following absentmindedly. My heart suddenly hurts, Gio was right. My palms feel sweaty but my skin feels cold. I need to sit down.
Two pearly white doors open and Arianna ushers me inside of them. It looks almost like my room inside, girly with pale pink colors. There is a bed against the back wall, couches and chairs forming a small seating area in the middle of the room and some other doors; probably a bathroom and closet.
“Here, sit down.” Arianna pulls me to one of the couches.
My body falls back into the safety of the white velvet sofa. I stare into a mirror across from me. My skin is pale and I do in fact, look terrified. My mind is mad at my body for displaying it’s internal struggle.
You need to calm down. You’re fine, you’re sitting down now. No one is hurting you, it’s just you and Arianna. It’s only a stupid wedding. You’ve presented projects to crowds before, you’ve been married before. You’ll be fine. Control your breathing, your skin will warm up and the chills will stop. You’ve been through worse, stop it.
I force air into my nose, push it out of my mouth and repeat. I wipe sweat from my forehead and then rub my moist hands on my leggings to dry them.
I think I hear the door open.
“Out.” A dark voice breaks me out of my thoughts.
Arianna leaves the room in a rush; the door shuts again. My vision won’t focus, I rub my eyes, forcing them to adjust. Lorenzo sits beside me and grabs my face with both hands. He’s looking into my eyes and all around my face. His hands feel buttery and warm against my cheeks.