Lorenzo: A Grumpy/ Sunshine, Dark mafia Romance (Chicago Ruthless Book 3)
Lorenzo: Chapter 49

I walk out of the powder room, panties stuffed inside my purse, my heart racing wildly as I scan the hall for Lorenzo. I’m not sure if he’s mad at me or not. One second we were talking and the next he went all bossy alpha-hole on me.

I’ve only taken a few steps toward where I left him standing a few minutes ago when he moves in front of me.

He leans close, lips against my ear. “Where are your panties?”

“In my purse.”

“Good.” He takes hold of my elbow, nods at one of his men, Tito, to follow us, and then leads me to a staircase at the back of the room that’s blocked by thick velvet ropes with a closed sign. Lorenzo simply lifts the ropes and walks up the stairs, leading me with him while Tito trails behind.

My heart beats faster, and I glance around, wondering why he’s bringing me up here, why Tito is coming, and what will happen if we get caught. When we reach the top, Lorenzo turns to his guard. “Make sure nobody comes up here.”

Tito nods and turns to face the stairs. Lorenzo takes my hand and pulls me along the narrow hallway until we reach a balcony that overlooks the ballroom.

Looking out at the crowd, I gasp. The view is incredible from this vantage point. A few people glance up and see us, and I instinctively shrink back, aware we shouldn’t be up here, but Lorenzo is right behind me, pressing his body against mine so I’m pinned to the waist-high wall and unable to move.

He pulls my hair aside and dusts his lips over my neck. “Don’t you like being up here?”

“Yes,” I breathe as heat coils up my spine. “But are we allowed to be here?”

“We’re this charity’s biggest donors, we can be wherever the fuck we want.”

“Then I love it. I love being able to watch everyone.”

“And how do you feel about them watching you?” he asks, his voice dropping an octave. It’s dark and tempting and wicked as sin.

Then he’s lifting my skirts, pulling at the layers of fabric, revealing my bare legs inch by inch. “W-watching me?”

He drags his teeth along the back of my neck as he pulls my dress higher, exposing the tops of my thighs. “Watching you while you come on my cock.”

I inhale sharply, sure I misheard him. There must be at least two hundred people down there.

His fingertips brush my bare ass cheeks, and I shiver. “You want them to watch us?”

“I want them to look up here and have no idea that I’m fucking you,” he says with a dark chuckle. “I want you to come in front of all these people, sunshine, but I don’t want them to know a thing about it.”

“I-I—h-how?” I stammer. The wall hides us both from the waist down, but surely they’ll still be able to tell. They’ll see him railing into me. See my face change when he forces an orgasm from my body.

He glides his hand over my hip and down between my thighs. “Open,” he commands, and I spread my legs wider, allowing him room to rub my clit in slow, teasing circles. “I’m going to slide my cock inside your tight cunt and rub right here”—he presses firmly on the sensitive bud of flesh, and my eyes almost roll back in my head—“until you come for me. And while I’m doing that, we’re going to see if you can make me come with just your hungry little squeezes.”

Heat floods my entire body as I look at the sea of people below. Will they really have no idea what we’re doing? Or will it be completely obvious that I’m being fucked while they’re dancing and drinking champagne?

“I’m going to open my belt,” Lorenzo says softly, preparing me so I don’t freak out at old memories again.

I bite down on my lip as he tugs open his belt, his other hand still between my thighs.

“I’m so fucking hard for you,” he says on a deep groan. “Are you wet for me?”

“Yes, Sir,” I whimper, feeling able to use that title while we’re alone.

His teeth graze the shell of my ear. “You’re turning into such a good little sub, Mia.”

The tip of his cock presses against my opening and I gasp. “Hold onto the wall while I get inside you,” he orders.

I brace myself against the cool brick, my fingers gripping the edge tightly as he pushes his thick cock inside me. Our height difference is much less pronounced in my six-inch heels and he’s able to fill me without it being obvious to the crowd below. He grunts as he sinks all the way in, making wet heat rush between my thighs.

Oh god. Knowing that people can see us is so hot.

“Fucking Christ, you are wet, sunshine. Soaking for me.” He groans loudly in my ear, his hips stilling as he fills me up completely. He starts to rub my clit again, using the pads of his fingers to coax warm waves of pleasure to rush through my core and thighs.

I press my lips together, careful not to speak unless he gives me permission. But I so want to moan his name as his cock throbs inside me.

“Squeeze my cock. Make me fill you with my come.”

I squeeze and release, my pussy walls pulling him deeper and eliciting guttural growls from his throat. Over and over again, I grip his cock with my inner muscles.

He increases the pressure on my clit. “Holy fuck, tesoro.”

Glancing at the scene below, I see that nobody is paying us much attention now, and I allow my mouth to fall open on a soft moan.

“You’re doing so well, Mia. Being such a good girl for me.”

A whimper falls from my lips, and I bite my cheek to stop any further sounds from escaping.

He nuzzles my neck, biting down on my sensitive flesh, then soothing the sting with a sweep of his tongue. My pussy ripples around him and he grunts in appreciation. “That’s it, sunshine. Come for me in front of all these people.”

With his permission given, the orgasm floods my body, washing over and through me in long, undulating waves. I clamp my lips together and rock on my heels, my back pressing against his hard chest. He snakes an arm around my waist, pulling me close as I squeeze him deeper. With an Italian curse, he fills me with his cum. “Holy motherfucker,” he groans, sliding out of me and causing wetness to slick my thighs.

Gripping the wall, I suck in a stuttered breath while he lowers my dress and fastens his pants. My head swims as I come down from the high, but I manage to focus on the crowd. Nobody is looking. Nobody except Lorenzo’s friend, Dahlia. She catches my eye and raises her glass of champagne in a silent toast. I swallow hard. Did she see? Does she know?

I glance back at Lorenzo. He’s looking at Dahlia too, and the change in him is instantaneous. He grabs hold of my hand. “We’re leaving,” he growls.

His jaw ticks, his muscles tense. I want to ask him what’s wrong, but I don’t want to upset him further. Is he mad because Dahlia knows what we were doing? Did I do something wrong? Draw too much attention? He remains silent as he hurries down the stairs, my hand still clasped in his. We almost bump into Tito, who waits obediently at the foot of the stairwell.

“Tell Dante and Max I’m taking the car. I’ll send it straight back for them,” he snaps.

Tito nods and slips away through the crowd, and I swallow the knot of anxiety currently lodged in my throat as Lorenzo pulls me out of the building like it’s on fire. I did everything he asked of me. This can’t be about me, can it? Is he upset about Anya’s friend seeing us together that way?

As soon as we’re alone in the back of the car, Lorenzo sinks against the seat and wraps an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close. He presses a soft kiss on my forehead, and I lean into him, loving the comfort and warmth of his body. He doesn’t seem mad at me, but his jaw is still clenched and he’s stiff with tension. I wish he’d let me in and tell me what’s going on with him.

“Are you okay?” I chance asking a question. The rules were for the ball, right? Not for he and I alone in the car.

“I’m good, sunshine,” he assures me. But he says nothing else, and I spend the rest of the drive wondering what went wrong.