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Lorenzo Beretta

Page 11

by Abigail Davies


  “What did I do?” she asked, her words a mere breath.

  I placed my other hand on her hip, exactly where the college boy had, only I gripped her harder, showing her the difference between people like him and people like me.

  My gaze clashed with hers, my lips so close it would only take one move to have them touching. “You let him kiss you.” Her breath flowed over my face, and shivers rolled over my entire body. “You let him touch what’s mine.” I couldn’t take another second of being this close to her, so I slammed my lips down onto hers.

  Her hand pushed against my chest, but I didn’t acknowledge it. I just kissed her harder, trapped her between me and the wall, and begged her to give in. To kiss me the way she’d kissed him.

  I was jealous. Jealous of the way she’d looked up at him. Jealous of the way her body looked against his. He was the kind of man she should have ended up with, not someone like me, not someone who used violence as the answer. But I was damned if I was going to give this up. Not right then.

  I swiped my tongue over her lips, hoping and praying that she’d let me in, and when her body finally softened, she opened up her mouth. She swiped her tongue against mine, driving me fuckin’ crazy, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. I’d fought with myself every step of the way, but now I was giving in to it—to her.

  Aida was my wife. She couldn’t escape me. She couldn’t turn on me, not like they could. So, for the first time in my life, I let myself go. I let my body do exactly what it wanted to do.

  My hands grabbed at her thighs, and I picked her up. She wrapped her legs around my waist, and I didn’t hesitate to take her into my room. I’d fucked in many places in my lifetime, but never on any of my actual beds. That was my only sanctuary, but as I stepped inside my room and slammed the door closed behind us, I made a beeline for it. I’d brought Veev up here, but it was only ever on the sofa—her bent over it as I took what I wanted from her without a second thought.

  But this was different. Aida was different.

  She pulled her lips away from mine, her eyes half-open. “Lorenzo.” Aida placed her hand on my face, her small fingers scratching against the scruff I hadn’t shaved this morning. She stared at me, her eyes holding so many questions, but she didn’t ask a single one of them. Instead, she placed her lips back onto mine, soft and gentle.

  I didn’t do soft and gentle, but at that moment, I allowed her to have it. I allowed her to take a piece of me, knowing that what we had in this room right now wouldn’t last. It’d be a blip in my life. A blip I wouldn’t forget.

  I turned and sat on the bed, keeping her body pressed against mine as I trailed my hand to her waist, lifting up her T-shirt and groaning at the feel of her naked skin against my fingers. Her hips rocked against me, her body knowing exactly what it wanted.

  “Fuck,” I murmured as our lips disconnected. I yanked her T-shirt over her head, revealing her pink lace bra. Her nipples peeked through the material, enticing me. I leaned forward, closing my mouth over her nipple and the bra, sucking on it and cursing that I hadn’t just ripped the damn thing off.

  Her hand pushed through my hair, holding me in place as her hips continued to move against my cock. I was so hard, but I didn’t want inside her, not yet. I never did foreplay, not with the other women, but something in me wanted to do it with Aida. I wanted to watch her squirm as I made her orgasm. I wanted to stare at her as she writhed beneath me. I wanted to commit the image of her naked body to my mind so I’d never forget.

  I popped her nipple out of my mouth as I darted my hands behind her and pulled at the back of her bra, not having the patience to undo it properly. Her breasts sprung free, a handful that I grasped immediately. I rolled my thumbs over her nipples, staring at her and demanding, “Take my shirt off.”

  She bit down on her bottom lip, her shaky hands reaching for me. Slowly she undid the first button, then the second, revealing part of my tan chest. She shuffled back a little on my thighs, her body leaning forward so she could get to all the buttons.

  “Your pants?” she asked, moaning as I pinched her nipple. I smirked, loving the way she sounded. It wasn’t fake, wasn’t put on to make me think she was enjoying it. No. This was real. She was real.

  “Undo them.” She flicked the clasp and undid the zipper, letting my shirt free. Her gaze lifted, connecting with mine as she slowly pushed my shirt off my shoulders, letting it land in a heap on the bed. I wrapped my arms around her, slamming her chest against mine as I twirled us so that her back was on the bed. I needed to be inside her. I needed to know what it felt like to have her pussy wrapped around my cock.

  My hands slid down her waist and to her jeans, where I popped her button and undid her zipper. Her lightly tanned skin glistened as I pulled the denim off of her. We were a frenzy of hands and lips, neither one of us able to hold back.

  “You drive me fuckin’ insane,” I told her, yanking at the material of her panties. They tore, the sound like a cannonball blasting through the air. She was bared to me, lying naked on my bed, and it was the most glorious damn sight I’d ever seen.

  “You drive me fuckin’ crazy,” she replied, squirming as I stared down at her. “I never know where I stand with you.”

  I trailed my palm down the center of her chest, over her stomach, then cupped her pussy. “Good.” I breathed, trying to stay in control as I slipped my finger over her clit, finding the bundle of nerves that I knew would drive her even crazier.

  “You blow hot and cold,” she stammered out, jerking her hips in response to me pushing a finger inside her. She bit down on her bottom lip, not breaking my stare for a second as I pressed my thumb to her clit. I grinned down at her, unfastening my zipper the rest of the way and pulling my slacks down. My cock sprung free, the glistening head begging to be inside her.

  “Lorenzo,” she gasped as I pulled my finger out and spread more of her wetness over her clit.

  I stroked her with one hand and my cock with the other, wondering what the fuck I did to deserve her. Nothing, I told myself. I’d done nothing to deserve her, but I was going to take her anyway. I was going to steal what shouldn’t have been mine. I was going to ruin her for anybody else. Because with the ring on her finger and the look in her eyes, I knew I had her where I wanted her.

  Leaning closer to her, I lined my cock up with her entrance, my hand rubbing her at lightning speed, and as soon as her back bowed with her impending orgasm, I pummeled inside her. She screamed, not expecting it, her pussy clamping down on my cock so hard I was afraid she’d cut off the blood supply.

  She was tight, tighter than I thought she would be. “Fuck,” I gritted out, watching her as the pain from me intruding her mixed in with the pleasure of her orgasm. My hips thrust forward, then back, my eyes squeezing shut at the intensity from being inside of her.

  It was too much for me to handle. And I was beginning to think she was too much for me to handle. Had I taken on a task I wasn’t ready for? Had I made the wrong move in choosing her?

  It was too late now.

  Too late, now I knew what her lips against mine felt like.

  Too late, now I knew the feel of her pussy.

  I thrust inside her again, picking up speed as her muscles loosened, and when I finally felt like I wouldn’t snap, I opened my eyes back up, shocked at seeing her staring right at my face. She didn’t say a word, not when I pumped in and out of her, not when she reached up and placed her hand on my chest over my heart, and not when I lost control, coming inside her.

  “Fuck.” I yanked my cock out, wide-eyed. “Fuck!” I clenched my hands, backing away from her. “I didn’t use a condom.”

  “You didn’t…” Aida laughed and sat up, grabbing the nearest thing to her—my shirt—and wrapping it around her body. “You didn’t wear a condom?”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I made a mistake.” I always wore protection. Always. But I’d been so wrapped up in her that I hadn’t even thought about it. She’d made me forget. She’d made me forge
t my own rules.

  AIDA

  “I made a mistake.”

  His words spun around and around in my mind. Someone had clicked the repeat button because I couldn’t get them out of my head as I stared at him. He was an Adonis who stood in front of me naked, his abs tensing as he backed away another step, his hands outstretched as if he was trying to find his way.

  I stood, my stomach rolling and threatening to bring up everything I’d eaten that day.

  He’d made a mistake.

  Shaking my head, I stepped toward his bedroom door, noticing how he was still staring at the bed as if he could change what just happened.

  He’d made a mistake.

  My chest heaved as I walked away from him and across the hall, hearing his murmurings as I went. My backpack sat in a heap next to my door, but I didn’t have the energy to pick it up. Instead, I quietly opened my door and stepped inside my room.

  He’d made a mistake.

  No.

  I had made a mistake.

  I’d made a mistake thinking he was anything but an asshole. I’d made a mistake in saying I would marry him. I’d made the mistake when I’d let him slip the ring on my finger.

  I swallowed, trying to make the lump in my throat disappear, but it was no use. I’d let him have a part of me. I’d given myself over like I was worth nothing. I hated it. I hated him. But more than that, I hated myself.

  My feet carried me to my bathroom, my body working on automatic as I walked toward the shower. I didn’t bother taking off the shirt I was wearing. I just stepped inside, turned the water on, and relished in the cold blasting against me. It quickly warmed up, soothing me. But it wasn’t enough to get his words out of my head or the feel of him inside me.

  I could feel his cum running down my inner thigh, a reminder of what I’d done. What he’d done. What I’d let him do.

  Why did I let him? I choked on a sob. Why did I let him do that? I wasn’t anything more than a lay to him—an easy lay at that. All it had taken was the prospect of me being with another man, and he’d jumped on it, used it to his advantage. And I’d been the fool to not see it. I’d been the dumbass to take him at face value.

  My head dropped down, my gaze focusing on the water as it rinsed down the drain, taking all of my sins with it, and for a moment, I wished it would take me too. I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, staring at the bottom of the shower, but at some point, I stepped out in a daze complete with wrinkly fingers.

  I tried to tell myself to snap out of it, to pretend like it never happened, but I couldn’t, not when I was still wrapped up in his shirt. I growled, trying to pull it off of my wet skin, but it wouldn’t budge, fusing to me like it never wanted to let go.

  “Get off!” I screamed. “Get off, get off, get off!” I shouted over and over again, not stopping until the white material was gone and I stood naked in the middle of my bedroom. “Get off,” I croaked out again. “Get off.” My words turned to whispers, my fight leaving me feeling like an empty shell.

  “Aida?” I gasped at the voice on the other side of the door. “Dinner is ready.” I pulled in a sharp breath, trying to find relief that it was Mrs. Larson and not Lorenzo.

  “I…” My hand skimmed to my neck. “I’m not coming down for dinner today.”

  Silence, and then, “Shall I tell Mr. Beretta?”

  I gritted my teeth. He wouldn’t care anyway. He’d used me yet again, and I’d been stupid enough to not see it coming. “Tell him whatever you want, Mrs. Larson.” I stepped toward my bed, then dove under the covers, wrapping myself up in a protective cocoon.

  “Okay,” she said, her voice sounding farther away now. “I’ll let Mr. Beretta know.”

  “You do that,” I whispered, closing my eyes and hoping that everything I’d done was just a bad dream.

  CHAPTER 11

  AIDA

  Aida: I never thought I’d say this, but I need a night out and to get wasted.

  I stared down at the message, biting down on my bottom lip as I stared at myself in the mirror. I’d been cooped up in my bedroom for two days, not willing to go outside the safety of the walls and see Lorenzo. I couldn’t face him, not when I felt as fragile as I did. I was afraid if he looked at me with his dark eyes and broody stare, I would break apart. It was a risk I wasn’t going to take, not then. But now…now my sadness had been fully replaced with anger. I needed out of here and as far away from Lorenzo as possible.

  Noemi: Yes! When and where? Because I am there 100%

  I’d held my breath as I typed the message, scared that she’d turn me down. Noemi was the only person I trusted, the only one who would try to understand and have advice I could actually follow. I hoped. If that failed, at least I’d have drowned my sorrows.

  Aida: Tonight?

  Noemi: Let me see if Ma will watch Vida.

  I didn’t move an inch as I waited for another message to come through, and as soon as it did, I sighed in relief.

  Noemi: It’s on like Donkey Kong! Get ready, I’ll be at the “palace” in an hour.

  I rolled my eyes at her calling the mansion a palace. Vida had called it that after the wedding, and the name had stuck.

  “Dinner will be ready in ten minutes, Aida,” Mrs. Larson shouted through my bedroom door, and I grinned. It was time to do what I wanted to—time to have some fun and not care about what anybody thought. I was taking a leaf out of Lorenzo’s book, and I was going to have a damn good time doing it.

  I darted into my walk-in closet and stared at the lack of clothes inside it. It was mainly jeans and T-shirts, along with a few church outfits. Nothing suitable for a night out, so I grabbed my cell and shot off another message to Noemi.

  Aida: Bring me something to wear?

  Noemi: Sure ;)

  Pushing my shoulders back, I tried to put on a brave face as I left my bedroom. Voices traveled from downstairs, getting louder as I made it to the door that led into the dining room. Lorenzo’s ma’s distinctive tone mixed in with Dante’s voice had me relaxing a little, but as soon as Lorenzo asked, “Where is she?” I gasped.

  I’d managed to avoid him, but now it was time to put on a brave face. Time to show him what happened between us didn’t matter to me anymore because I was done playing his games. Done adhering to all of his commands. It was time for me to do what was best for me, and that involved lining my stomach with food so I could drink as much alcohol as possible.

  “She didn’t answer me this time, Mr. Beretta,” I heard Mrs. Larson say, and while they were all distracted, I decided now would be the perfect entrance.

  I pushed open the door, pulled my lips up into a smile, and entered. I felt the burn of all of their stares on me, but I didn’t look at anyone in particular. I kept my gaze focused on my seat, and once I was sitting, I stared at the table like my life depended on it.

  “Aida,” Ma said. “You look pale.”

  Slowly, I lifted my head. “I haven’t been feeling well,” I said softly, hyperaware of Lorenzo sitting next to me.

  “Again?” she asked, her eyes drifting over to Lorenzo, then back to me. I could see she knew I was lying and that it was because of him, but she wouldn’t say anything, especially in front of everyone else. He was her son first, but he was also the head of the family, and not just any family, but a Mafia family. No one spoke out against the boss, least of all his mother.

  “Yeah.” I swiped my hand through the air, trying to act as carefree as I could. “It must have just been one of those twenty-four-hour bugs.” I inhaled a deep breath as Mrs. Larson placed my plate in front of me. “This looks delicious.” I had no idea what it was on the plate, but right then, I didn’t care. All I needed was to fill my stomach for alcohol purposes, so I chowed down on it, trying not to pay attention to anything around me.

  I was on a mission, a singular vision of eating enough to satisfy me but not too much so I wouldn’t fit into whatever Noemi brought with her for me to wear.

  “Aida.” Lorenzo’s low voice pinge
d in my ears, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to stand up. “Look at me.” I put another forkful of food in my mouth, not looking away from the edge of my plate. “Aida.”

  “What?” I growled, snapping my head toward him. Everyone else may have had to stay silent, but I was totally done with playing nice. “What do you want?”

  “We need to talk—”

  The sound of the doorbell ringing had me sagging with relief, and when I heard Noemi’s loud voice, I jumped out of my seat. “Sorry,” I said to Ma, trying my hardest not to be disrespectful while also needing to get away as fast as I could. “I made plans with my sister.”

  The dining room door swung open, and in the doorway stood my big sister, dressed to impress. She held up a bag, a huge grin on her face. “I brought you the perfect outfit.” I had no doubt whatever it was would be slutty, but I didn’t care. I was getting out of this house, and that was all that mattered right then.

  “Thanks.” I snapped it out of her grip and practically ran out of the dining room and back to my bedroom. I got changed in record time, slipped a pair of black strappy heels on, then walked into the bathroom.

  The tight black velour dress had the tiniest straps attached to a sweetheart neckline. It was something I never would have worn. It pushed my boobs up, hugged my curves, and stopped just above my knees. It was perfect for my night out.

  I let my hair out of the braid I’d kept it in for the last couple of days and smoothed it out so it looked like I’d styled it in beach waves. One slick of lip gloss and a brush of mascara, and I was ready.

  My small purse held everything I needed for my night out, so I grabbed it, then sauntered back down the stairs where everyone was now gathered in the foyer.

  “Dayum, sis.” Noemi lunged forward, grabbing me at the waist and twirling me around. “You look hot.”

 

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