Page 3 of Unrelenting (Ruthless Temptations #1)

THREE

Lucia

I was na?ve to think Lorenzo would be content with wringing a single orgasm out of me.

Though he’s just given me the most intense climax I’ve experienced in my life, he’s the type of man who needs to test a woman’s limits, to push to see how much she can take. He won’t be finished with me until I’m in a boneless heap on the floor.

As he effortlessly sweeps me up into his arms, I gasp. He carries me across the room and lays me out on one of the long wooden tables like he’s about to feast on me.

Never once releasing me from his penetrating stare, he steps back and strips off his shirt, drawing my attention to the fact he’s been fully dressed all this time while I was completely naked.

It’s a stark reminder of the power imbalance between us. Lorenzo oozes dominance and control. Though I would never describe myself as submissive, it's undeniable that my instinct is to yield to him.

While I watch him undress, I note the tattoos on his muscular chest and arms. Given the type of man he is, I’d have expected violent imagery. I thought there would be grotesque skulls, eyeballs dripping with blood, knives, something like that.

The tattoos on his hands are simple Roman numerals, but the other designs he’s chosen to ink on his body are quite beautiful. Whoever did this has an incredible eye for detail. The workmanship is exquisite.

A forest scene creeps up one arm. Trees climb toward his shoulders, where birds fly free.

His other arm features black and red roses, their petals singed at the edges.

Both designs spill out across his shoulders and onto his chest, meeting in the middle.

The effect is mesmerizing. It’s hard for me to take my eyes off him.

“Who did your tattoos?” I ask.

“My brother.”

“Damiano did that?” I’ve only encountered his oldest brother a couple of times, but he seemed too buttoned-up to have such artistic flair.

Lorenzo shakes his head. “Gabriele.”

Ah, the brother who hasn’t been seen for over two years. He lives in Rome, but when the Volantes first came to Florence, he used to visit the city regularly. I heard he was scarred in a fight and has laid low ever since.

Lorenzo’s expression turns somber. He’s thinking about his brother, no doubt.

“He did an amazing job,” I say to rescue the situation as the atmosphere suddenly turns chilly. “They’re beautiful.”

Lorenzo’s cocky grin makes an appearance. The smile lights up his entire face, making him look years younger than twenty-eight.

He’s such a contradiction, a mass of darkness and light. Lorenzo is unpredictable, and that makes him hard to resist.

As he toes off his shoes and bends to remove his socks, I notice the silver chain around his neck. There’s a small pendant dangling from it, a Saint Christopher, perhaps. I almost laugh at the idea of a man like him expecting a saint to watch over him.

I prop myself up on my elbows. Nervous anticipation thrums through me as he strips off his pants and boxer shorts.

He’s only just been inside of me, so I know he’s big, but the breath still catches at the back of my throat when I get my first proper look at his long, thick cock. It’s fully erect again and as impressive as the rest of him.

My heart rate picks up a notch as Lorenzo steps closer, grabs my ankles and yanks me closer to the edge of the table.

“Lie down, arms over your head.”

I immediately obey, lying flat and raising my arms above me.

Lorenzo casts an appreciative glance over my prone body. I brace for him to plow into me once more, but he doesn’t. Instead, he sinks to his knees.

Parting my legs farther, he dives right in to taste me. I squeal as he flicks his tongue out to lap up my juices, then drags it along the length of my feminine slit.

Past lovers have gone down on me, but it was always with thinly veiled reluctance, like it was something they felt they had to get out of the way before fucking me.

Lorenzo doesn’t treat it as a chore he has to check off a list. His enthusiasm for the task is apparent. With each stroke of his tongue along my pussy, he hums with satisfaction.

I clench my fists as he pushes two long, thick fingers inside me and fucks me with them while he laps at my clit.

What he’s doing is already divine, but then he curls his fingers in search of my G-spot. He finds it with practiced ease and glides his fingers back and forth over that sensitive flesh.

There’s nothing I can do to hold back the swell of pleasure inside me. My body acts of its own accord as I’m gripped by intense sensations. My hips lift off the table, so Lorenzo splays a hand across my abdomen to hold me in place as he continues to inflict sensual torture upon me.

When I clamp my legs around his head, he growls, and I release my grip.

Suddenly, he gets to his feet, but he keeps his fingers inside me. He watches me, his expression dark.

“Come for me, Lucia. Show me you’re mine.”

It shouldn’t be possible to make my body climax on demand, but his insistent tone and blatant desire to own me triggers a detonation at my core.

My womb spasms, the ripples spreading out to every part of my body.

“Lorenzo!” I scream as a gush of fluid rushes from my drenched pussy to coat his fingers.

“Good girl,” he coos. Withdrawing his fingers, he brings them to my lips. “Suck them clean.”

Obediently, I open my mouth, and he shoves his fingers inside, deep enough to make me gag.

I grab his wrist, not to pull him away, but to anchor myself as I breathe deeply, regaining control of myself. I suck my juices off his fingers, licking between them to catch every drop.

Lorenzo slides his fingers slowly out of my mouth. He steps between my legs and gets in position.

“Next time I’ll make you choke on my cock.” He thrusts into me with such force I arch up off the table in shock. “But tonight I’m feeling generous.”

There’s no point in saying there won’t be a next time. I already know Lorenzo won’t settle for one night. His possessive grip on my thighs, the way he takes my body as if he has every right to it, tell me this isn’t a one-off.

The thought both thrills and scares me, but I have to admit I also want more.

As he fucks me, he puts one hand beneath my ass and lifts me off the table. The new angle creates delicious friction. He cups my breast with his other hand and plays with the taut nipple, flicking his thumb over it and sending a ripple of pleasure through me.

His eyes never stray from mine. They’re a stunning shade of blue. The depth of feeling in them is so intense, it reaches deep inside me, to my very soul.

Sensations so powerful I could burst take hold of me as Lorenzo ruthlessly demonstrates his mastery over my body.

It’s as if we’ve known each other for years, as if he’s had the time to study me and work out what I like.

But it’s not long-term intimacy that drives his understanding of what makes me tick. It’s perfectly honed instinct.

Lorenzo pulls his hand away from my breast and brings it down hard on my outer thigh.

Shock and pain reverberate through me and then, to my surprise, twist into something dark and erotic.

As another orgasm grips me, Lorenzo pulls out of my body. He wraps his fist around his cock and pumps up and down three times.

Throwing his head back with a groan, he splatters his seed across my belly. As I lie there, trembling in the aftermath of my climax, he rubs it into my skin, marking me as his in the most basic way possible.

I don’t really expect him to cuddle afterward, but I’m shocked when Lorenzo immediately starts to get dressed.

Sitting up, my legs dangling over the edge of the table, I watch as he buttons his shirt and tucks it into the pants he’s already put on.

I feel a little cold, empty and when he doesn’t speak, I wonder if his declarations that I’m his were all bullshit.

He crosses the room and snatches my clothes off the floor. He brings them to me and drops them in my lap.

“Get dressed. I’ll take you home.”

I don’t bother telling him I usually change out of my work uniform before leaving the restaurant.

“You don’t need to do that.” I jump off the table and put on my underwear. “It’s only a five-minute walk.”

He already knows that because he sent flowers to my home address.

“It’s after midnight, Lucia, and these streets aren’t safe for a woman on her own.”

“It’s fine, really. I do it every other night.”

For the four years I’ve run the restaurant, I’ve walked home every night after closing, and I’ve only occasionally felt any anxiety about it.

Even at this late hour, there are usually tourists milling about the Ponte Vecchio when I cross the world-famous bridge to reach my apartment.

There are also plenty of other restaurants and bars still open, so there are always people around.

Lorenzo scowls. “That shit ends now, Lucia. You are not taking your life in your hands like that, and while we’re on the subject, you should not be locking this place up alone. I’ll assign someone to watch over you when I’m not around.”

“A bodyguard?” I can’t believe that’s what he means, but Lorenzo nods. “That’s totally unnecessary.”

“I disagree.”

“Disagree all you want, Lorenzo, but it’s not happening. I am not going to allow…oh!”

My argument dies as he grabs my shoulders, spins me around and bends me over the table. He delivers three sharp smacks to my ass. It stings.

“Lorenzo!” I protest.

“Don’t complain,” he growls as if I have no right to kick up a fuss over being treated this way. “Now, tell me, are you going to be a good girl and accept the protection I’m offering you?”

The only answer he wants to hear is yes, but I can’t give him my assent. The very idea of him putting some watchdog on me is as absurd as it is alarming.

I turn my head to meet his implacable gaze. Though I know whatever I’m going to say will fall on deaf ears, I’m not prepared to remain silent while he dictates how my life will be.

“Lorenzo, you’re being ridiculous.”

He draws back his arm and swats my butt again. I hiss in pain and wiggle my hips trying to make the ache go away.

It’s hard to wrap my head around, but, as much as this spanking hurts, I kind of like it.

I don’t know whether it’s Lorenzo’s dominance or the bite of pain, but I am becoming seriously aroused.

“What did you call me?” he demands.

“I didn’t call you anything.”

He spanks my ass again. I cry out, more because of the injustice of it than because it hurts.

“I didn’t call you anything.”

He spanks my ass again. I cry out, more because of the injustice of it than because it hurts.

“I didn’t,” I protest. “I said you were being ridiculous.”

He grips my hair and pulls my head up from the table. “Is it ridiculous for me to protect what’s mine?”

“No, but…”

He cuts me off. “Is it ridiculous to want my woman to get home safely?”

“Lorenzo, we fucked twice. I am not your woman.”

He pushes my head down again so my cheek is resting on the cool surface of the table. He delivers three more punishing swats to my ass.

Then he blows out a breath as if I’ve wound him up in knots and he needs to decompress. He helps me stand and places his hands on my shoulders.

“Look, Lucia, I’m trying to be nice to you. Let me do this small thing to protect you because, believe me, you will not like the alternative.”

A shiver runs down my spine at the warning in his tone. I don’t ask him what the alternative is because I really don’t want to know how far he’s prepared to go to get his way.

“Okay, Lorenzo,” I agree. “I’ll let you take me home.”

“And you’ll allow me to provide security when I’m not available to take you myself?”

“If you think that’s for the best.”

My capitulation pleases him. He leans forward and kisses my forehead.

There’s something so fucking patronizing about the gesture I want to scream. I don’t, of course.

Lorenzo steps back, giving me space. “Your life will change now you’re mine, gattina, but it needn’t be bad for you. Do as you’re told and things can carry on just as they were.”

I smile tightly, holding back the vitriol that wants to spill from my lips. It’s late and I’m tired. I want nothing more than to get home and have the bath I’ve been dreaming about.

But if Lorenzo Volante thinks I’m simply going to do as I’m told, he is in for a shock.