Lorenzo: A Grumpy/ Sunshine, Dark mafia Romance (Chicago Ruthless Book 3)
Lorenzo: Chapter 15

Anger courses in my veins like it’s my lifeblood as I stalk back through the house, leaving my younger brother alone in the study. I explained what happened with Brad today, but I kept Lionel’s replaceings to myself for now. No point telling only half the story. Dante talked me out of my plan to dispose of Brad Mulcahy. He thinks we should play it smart and wait for Brad to fuck his own life up, but I can’t help feeling like we’d be doing the entire world a favor by ending that piece of shit’s existence.

I walk into the library, hoping for a little quiet, but she’s here. Of course she’s here. She’s fucking everywhere.

“Are you okay?” she asks, her voice full of concern.

I pace up and down the room, running my hands through my hair. Do I tell her that her sack of shit husband was just here? No, I can’t. She might decide to run, and if she left … I don’t know what the fuck I’d do, but I do know I like having her here. Despite her being a constant source of tension and distraction.

“Lorenzo?”

Thick knots of tension build in my muscles. She’s close enough that her scent washes over me. Too close. My dick strains at my zipper, pulsing and aching for relief. Every drop of blood rushes south, making it hard to breathe, and when I do manage to draw air, she fills my lungs. I can taste her, like a python senses its prey. I need to get the fuck out of here. Away from her soft body and her intoxicating scent.

Mia smiles sweetly. Is she aware of the effect she has on me? If she is, she should run. Instead, she comes closer. So fucking close, I swear I can hear her heartbeat. Or is that mine? I can’t even think straight anymore.

I stop pacing and stand still, chest heaving as I stare at her. She places her hand on my chest, right over my hammering heart, and leans close. So goddamn close. Her breath dusts along my neck and my cock twitches, letting me know he’s running the show from here on out. My brain checks out, happily handing over the reins.

“Tell me what’s wrong. What do you need?”

I suck in a breath, lazily looking over her curves. Her fingers twitch and my very last shred of restraint snaps. “What if what I need is you, Mia?” The words rumble out of me like a growl.

“You know you can have me any time you want, right?” she whispers.

Blinding light flashes in my eyes, and a surge of adrenaline propels me forward. My hand is around her throat, pushing her back until she’s perched on the edge of the desk, her fingers splayed out on either side of her hips. She spreads her thighs, allowing me to step between them and press my body flat against hers. She holds my gaze, daring me to keep going.

I can’t.

I shouldn’t.

But I do.

I fist my free hand in her honey-blond hair and hold her head still. My other hand slides down her body, over the pillowy curve of her breasts, eliciting a needy moan from her lips. Those lips. Fucking plump and begging to be wrapped around my cock. I crash my mouth down on hers, swallowing her sounds as my hand travels lower, over the arc of her hip and around to her ass. I squeeze hard, and her soft flesh yields to my touch as though it’s been lying dormant waiting for my fingertips. She parts her lips, allowing my tongue inside to explore the recesses of her mouth. She tastes so fucking sweet, and suddenly she is everything and everywhere.

My heart beats frantically against my ribcage, like it’s trying to break free and remind me that we’re broken and we can’t do this. But I am lost in the feel of her soft flesh beneath my hands, her delicious scent in my nose and her taste on my tongue. How good would the rest of her taste?

She rocks her hips forward, grinding her pussy on my cock, and precum weeps from the crown. If I don’t come soon, I will die from a fucking heart attack. She pulls back, panting for breath as she runs a hand through my hair and tugs, tilting my head so that I’m staring into her hazel eyes.

“Fuck me,” she breathes out the words.

Holy mother of fucks. I almost choke on air, swaying on my feet as violent waves of desire crash over me. My head pounds, my cock aches. I lift her onto the desk and slide a hand between her thighs, my fingertips kneading her soft flesh as I work my way up to the apex. The place where I can lose myself in her.

Pulling her panties aside, I brush my knuckles over her slick folds. So fucking hot and inviting. I want inside her. I want to feel her.

I want to feel.

It’s been so long since I’ve enjoyed the pleasure of a woman. So fucking long.

Her breaths come hard and fast, and her eyes burn into mine. Then her hand is between us, fingertips brushing over my aching shaft as she lowers my zipper and slides inside my boxer shorts. She grips me at the base, squeezing hard, and I groan like a thirteen-year-old boy about to get his first handjob. I yank her arms behind her back, easily circling my fingers around both of her wrists and pinning them in place while I free my cock.

I roughly tug her panties down with one hand. Kicking them off, she wraps her long legs around my waist and pulls me closer. The tip of my cock presses against her wet heat, and nothing exists except for me and her and this moment.

I slide in and her hot pussy squeezes my dick like a vise. “Holy. Fuck!” I grunt, burying my face in her neck. Grabbing a handful of her ass, I rail into her like an animal. My cock pulses and throbs as I drive in and out of her wet pussy. She’s dripping, coating my shaft in her sweet juices and making it possible for me to sink balls-deep into her tight-as-fuck cunt. And she feels so fucking good. Pure relief seeps into my bones, and with every thrust inside her, I get closer and closer to the edge that’s been eluding me for so long.

“Oh, god, Lorenzo.” She breathes out the words, hot against my ear. Her cunt ripples around me, pulling me deeper and deeper. I never want to stop. I want to bury myself right here and feel nothing but her and this pussy for the rest of my days.

“Your cunt, Mia …” I release her wrists so I can hold onto her hips and drive harder and deeper. “Feels so good.”

“Yes,” she moans, wrapping her arms around my neck and clinging to me. I slam into her, my balls burning with the need for release. Harder and faster with each roll of my hips, my fingers digging into her soft ass cheeks, kneading and pulling and taking. I need her so fucking much.

“So.” Thrust. “Fucking.” Thrust. “Good.”

She tips her head back, whimpering as I nail her. I run my nose over her sweet-smelling neck and sink my teeth into her flesh. Her pussy squeezes me harder, and I can’t hold off any longer. I’m going to come, fill her up, and I’d rather die than stop now. Gripping her ass tighter, I drive inside her one last time, making her cry out as I empty my myself into her. I close my eyes and almost black out from the force of my climax.

I fill her tight pussy until my cum drips out, overflowing from her channel. Three days’ worth of cum. Two years’ worth of anger and guilt and frustration and sadness. And she took it all.

I pull my cock out of her, and although she does her best to hide it, she flinches. I was too rough. Too hard. I didn’t even get her off. And now it’s over, the rush of endorphins already leaving my body, replaced by more guilt and anger.

Zipping up my pants, I avert my eyes, unable to look at her.

“Lorenzo?”

“I’m sorry, Mia.” There’s nothing else I can say. I still don’t look at her as I walk away, leaving her alone in the library