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

Lorenzo: Chapter 60



I slap my book down on the table next to me and groan. The whole situation with Jake weighs heavily on my mind. Despite Lorenzo’s assurances earlier, I’m sure my ex-brother-in-law is going to rock up here any minute now with a warrant for my arrest. I can’t even find any pleasure in reading. Living vicariously through fictional characters isn’t as much fun after having my heart broken by a man who did things to my body that put every book boyfriend to shame.

Damn you, Lorenzo Moretti!

As though I’ve conjured him with the strength of my thoughts, he walks into the library, a large brown envelope tucked under his arm.

“Oh … I thought you were with Kat and Joey. I’m sorry, I was just—I’ll go to my study.”

“It’s okay.” I stand and smooth my dress over my thighs, not missing the way his eyes follow my hands. “I was just leaving anyway.”

He glances at my discarded book. “That one not filthy enough for you?”

Despite everything, I smile. It’s like I can’t not smile in his presence. He’s so annoyingly lovable. Infuriating and lovable. “Something like that.”

He rakes his gaze over my body, unashamedly drinking in every inch. I’m wearing his favorite yellow dress. Was that a conscious decision? Because no matter what went wrong between us, I still feel more alive when I’m near him than I ever have in my life. And I hate it. “What happened, Lorenzo?” The words tumble from my mouth before I can think about the can of worms I’m opening.

His eyes drift upward, locking on mine. “What do you mean?”

I swallow hard. I shouldn’t ask this of him. Not now. But I need answers. Maybe then I’ll be able to truly let him go. “That night after the ball? It felt like everything was perfect, and then …”

“Mia.” His chest strains against the buttons of his shirt with the force of his sigh. He walks toward me and places the envelope on the table next to my book.

“Tell me the truth,” I plead with him.

He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and I press my cheek into his palm, subconsciously seeking the comfort of his touch. “It was a perfect night, Mia. So perfect. You were fucking perfect.”

I frown. “So?”

“I saw it.” The tears swimming in his eyes render me mute for several seconds.

“Saw what?” I ask, finding my voice.

“Our future.”

“And was it that bad?”

He shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose.

My head swims with confusion. “No?”

His eyes blaze, fiery and dark. Goosebumps break out all over my body. “It was fucking glorious. I saw you standing at an altar with my ring on your finger. I saw us on our honeymoon on some tropical beach. You were wearing the tiniest fucking bikini imaginable.” His Adam’s apple bobs. “I saw us old and gray with our kids and our grandkids.”

Winded by his revelation, I suck in a harsh breath. “And you don’t want any of that?” I ask, my heart shattering into a million tiny pieces.

“I want every single fucking second of it.”

I blink, my eyes blurry with tears. “But?”

He palms the back of my neck and presses his forehead against mine. “I couldn’t give it to her, and she deserved it. So fucking much. All of it.”

“W-why are you doing this to me?”

“I’m not …” He shakes his head and drops to his knees, staring up at me, his own tears staining his cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Mia. I didn’t mean any of those awful things I said. You were right, it was all guilt and self-loathing. I was hating myself for finding happiness without her, and I took it out on you. And even though what I said and the way I acted was unforgivable, I’m selfish enough to ask you to forgive me anyway.”

“So why couldn’t you just admit that when I asked you? Instead of tearing out my heart?”

His eyes fill with immeasurable pain. I want to drop to my knees and wrap him in my arms, but I can’t give in that easily. I deserve so much more. And he’s the one who taught me that.

“Because I was truly happy the other night, Mia. You make me so fucking happy. I made love to you like you were the only woman in the entire world. And then I saw our future together so clearly, it was all mapped out for us, as though it was exactly what I was supposed to do with my life. I was consumed with guilt for wanting that life—for wanting to give you that life when I couldn’t give it to her.”

“Y-you really want all of that? What you saw? With me?”

“Fuck yes. I want all that and more.”

I rub my throbbing temples. This is all too much. He’s scrambling my brain with his smooth words and sex appeal. “But why didn’t you just tell me that?” I repeat, still unable to comprehend why he couldn’t be honest with me. “Why didn’t you talk to me? I needed you to let me in and you shut me out.”

“Kat was right, I’m an asshole. It was only when I knew I’d lost you that I realized I can’t live without you. I’m far from fucking perfect, and I know I’ll make mistakes. I’ll still feel guilty sometimes, but I promise to never shut you out again. I’ll always be honest with you from now on, even if it hurts. I swear. You’ll never be second best, sunshine. I’ll remind you every single fucking day how much I love you.”

Heart pounding, I blink at him. “Y-you … you love me?”

He stands and wipes the tears from my cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “So fucking much. With everything I am. I am yours, Mia. Every part of me, even the broken ones. You’re way too fucking good for me, but if you’ll have me, I will never let you spend another second of your life doubting how much I love you.”

My heart aches to tell him what he wants to hear, but I’d be a fool to trust him with it again, wouldn’t I? “What if I let you back in, and you …” A shuddering sob forces me to pause, and I shake my head. “I can’t take that risk.”

Placing a fingertip under my chin, he forces me to look at him. “A very smart woman once told me that love is always worth the risk.”

Damn him. Using my own words against me. Without warning, the emotional upheaval of the whole week slams into me and I sway on my feet, but his hands on my hips hold me steady. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t give him another chance after he bared his entire soul? Not the kind of person I want to be.

I wrap my arms around his neck. “I love you too, Lorenzo Moretti.”

His lips find mine and he kisses me so fiercely that my head spins. Melting into his embrace, I allow myself to be dominated and claimed by him. It feels like coming home.

I rub myself against his rock-hard cock, chasing the deep connection that I’ve only ever felt when our bodies join together. With frantic motions, he pulls at my dress, bunching the material at my hips. His hand delves between my thighs, tugging my panties out of his way. When he slides a finger through my wet folds, my legs almost buckle, but he holds me up, wrapping his free arm around my waist.

“Need you … so fucking bad.” He kisses me deeper, grinding his hard length against me.

“I need you too,” I gasp, feeling for his button and zipper and tugging them open. Reaching into his boxers, I wrap my hand around the base of his thick shaft and squeeze, eliciting a guttural groan from deep in his throat.

He’s holding back. “Fuck me,” I murmur into his mouth.

He wastes no time lifting me onto the piano and wrapping my legs around him, not breaking our kiss for a single beat as he tugs my panties aside and sinks all the way inside me. His tongue swirls against mine and he rails into me, claiming my mouth and my body with the same intensity.

I claw at his back and shoulders, trying to take him deeper, desperate for him to sate the ache inside me the way that only he can. With equal frenzy, he squeezes my ass in one hand while the other roams my body as though he’s reacquainting himself with every curve. His heavy breathing morphs into animalistic grunts, my moans turn to eager whimpers.

“Fuck!” He changes the angle so he can go deeper. My back arches as he rolls his hips, sweeping the tip of his cock over the sweet spot inside my pussy that makes me want to do anything for the promise of the bone-shattering orgasm he’s about to deliver.

I wrench my lips from his, unable to kiss him and breathe at the same time for much longer. “Please, Sir!”

“Oh, tesoro, you know I love it when you beg.” The vibration of his words against my ear shoots electric pleasure up my spine. His abs and thighs clench tight as he tries to stave off his release, but I want him to lose control right along with me.

I dust my lips over the shell of his ear, and in the most seductive voice I can muster while being nailed into oblivion, I say, “I’d do anything for your cock, Sir.”

“Holy. Fuck. Mia!” he roars, slamming into me. My walls contract around him, milking his thick cock and coating him with my slick release. He buries his head into my neck, breathing heavy and muttering in Italian.


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