Page 6 of Unrelenting (Ruthless Temptations #1)

FIVE

Lucia

When I wake, the room around me is bright. I’m not surprised to find myself alone. Though Lorenzo held me until I fell asleep, I get the impression cuddling isn’t really his thing.

He told me last night that he had a full schedule today. A quick check of the time on my phone reveals it’s nine thirty.

No doubt he’s already out breaking kneecaps or orchestrating a corporate takeover. From what I’ve heard about him, either is equally possible.

Getting out of bed, I pull on my cotton shorts pajamas and head for the kitchen. Lorenzo insisted on us both being naked last night.

Although we didn’t have sex, he said he wanted to feel my skin against his. I can’t deny it was comforting. I haven’t slept so well in a long time.

The aroma of coffee hits me about halfway along the corridor.

When I get to the kitchen, I find Lorenzo there. Fully dressed, he even has his jacket on.

Spotting the brown paper bags and coffee cups on the countertop, I realize he’s been out.

He hasn’t seen me yet, so I lean against the doorframe and watch as he pours the coffee from the takeout cups into a couple of my earthenware mugs.

Then he puts the pastries on a plate and tosses away the bags they came in.

“You’re not going to pass this off as your own creation, I hope.” I step into the kitchen.

Lorenzo looks up and grins. “Just the coffee.”

“Why?” I cross the room and take a seat at the breakfast bar. My apartment is small, but it has an enormous kitchen. I can live without a large bathroom or a walk-in closet, but when it came to buying an apartment, I had to have a fully equipped kitchen. “I have plenty of coffee.”

Something that might be embarrassment forms on Lorenzo’s face. “I can’t make coffee.”

“You’re kidding!” I don’t mean to come across as judgmental, but I do.

“I can cook. I can bake bread.” Lorenzo shrugs. “For some reason, I’ve never managed a decent cup of coffee. Even with the Keurig, I manage to fuck it up.”

“You need to surrender your Italian citizenship immediately.” I pick up the cup he slides across to me, and take a sip of the coffee.

It’s scalding hot and rich with a bitter aftertaste, just how I like it.

I’d usually have a cappuccino for breakfast, but this is better.

It wakes me up. “I’m not sure I can associate with a man who can’t make coffee. ”

“It’s the least of my flaws, believe me.”

“I’m not sure I want to know about your other flaws.” I take one of the apricot pastries from the plate. “You went to Pino’s for these?”

There’s a bakery at the end of my street that does perfectly acceptable pastries, but it’s worth walking the extra three minutes to my friend Pino’s place. He bakes all the bread for Gianetta’s and is arguably the finest baker in Italy.

“Of course. Only the best for my woman.”

I bristle at his referring to me that way, but I don’t say anything.

Instead, I eat the pasty while Lorenzo retrieves his phone from his pocket to check an incoming message.”

“You have a busy day ahead?” I ask.

Lorenzo nods. “There’s a deal I need to close. The seller is being…..” He searches for the right word. “Obstinate.”

“What will you do?”

“Change his mind.”

“You think you can? You didn’t change mine.”

“I didn’t use my usual tactics with you.”

Though I’m not sure I want details, I can’t help asking. “What tactics?”

Lorenzo shakes his head. “You do not want to know.” He sweeps a strand of his messy brown hair back from his face. “It’s best if you don’t ask about what I do.”

Studying him carefully, I take another bite of my pastry. “You know, it limits the scope for conversation if I can’t ask about your business.”

He shrugs. “We can talk about your day.” He sets his phone down and leans forward, resting his arms on the counter between us. “What has my gattina got planned?”

“Well, I’m going to do a little shopping. You wouldn’t believe how many pairs of sneakers I go through.”

“You’re on your feet a lot,” Lorenzo says. “So I can imagine.”

“Then I’m going to head into the restaurant. People think because we only open at night that I have it easy, but there’s always so much to do.”

“Have you considered handing more responsibility to your staff?” Lorenzo asks.

“I delegate where necessary.”

“Do you, though? You don’t trust your sommelier to buy the wine.”

I frown at that. “Has Stefan complained to you about me?”

“No, I asked him why he’s never been to Casa di Lupo. He said you make the decisions about the wine.”

There’s an implied criticism in his words that makes me defensive. “Well, I know what my customers like.”

“I’m sure you do, but perhaps Stefan would appreciate being given more responsibility. People like to know their employer trusts them.”

“I trust my staff,” I grumble.

“Do you? When did you last take a night off?”

I shrug. “I don’t need to take a night off. The restaurant is closed on Mondays and Tuesdays.”

Lorenzo scoffs. “Yes, when nothing happens. When did you last attend a social event? What about the theater? When did you last take a vacation?”

His line of questioning pisses me off, mainly because I know the point he’s getting at is valid.

“I’ve gone for short breaks on my days off.”

It’s stretching the truth. I went to Berlin last year to see my parents on my mother’s birthday, but I flew in and out on the same day. I’m ashamed that since they moved to Germany for my dad’s job, I’ve only visited them twice.

Lorenzo tuts disapprovingly. “Not good enough, Lucia. When did you last take a proper vacation, you know, seven days with no distractions?”

I purse my lips. “When did you?”

I don’t expect him to answer my challenge, but he does. “In April. I spent ten days in the Caribbean.”

It’s hard to believe he switched off for an entire ten days. “You did no work the whole time?”

“None. You see, I trust my brother and my lieutenants to run things in my absence.”

“I trust my staff,” I mumble petulantly. “And I don’t like lazing around on the beach.”

“Neither do I,” Lorenzo says. “I spent my time in the Caribbean exploring the history and culture of the different islands.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.” Lorenzo mimics my tone. “You thought I was just another billionaire playboy who parties on his superyacht by night and tops up his tan in the daytime?”

I’m taken aback by his reference to himself as a billionaire. I knew he was rich, of course, but I never suspected he was that wealthy. “Do you own a yacht?”

“No. I can’t stand being on the water.”

“Me neither,” I admit. “I don’t want to risk falling in because I can’t stand swimming. I hate it when the water gets up my nose.”

“Then it’s a good thing I didn’t waterboard you to make you sell Gianetta’s to me.” Lorenzo winks, but I’m not entirely sure he’s kidding.

“Would you do that to someone?” I run my finger around the rim of my coffee cup. “Waterboard them?”

“It’s an effective way to get what I want.”

“Jesus, Lorenzo!” His admission startles me.

“But enough about my recreational pursuits,” he says with a grin. “Tell me how you like to spend your vacations.”

“Well, torturing people isn’t high on my list, but I enjoy museums and galleries. I love to try different cafes and restaurants, of course. Oh, and I have a thing for churches.”

“You’re religious?” Lorenzo asks.

“Not at all. I like architecture, and it’s always peaceful in a church, isn’t it?”

“I guess.” Lorenzo polishes off an almond croissant in two bites. “Have you ever been to Portugal?”

“No.”

“You should let me take you. Lots of amazing architecture. Oporto is stunning, and you’d love Lisbon. Plenty of churches to visit.”

I shake my head. It’s too soon to talk about taking a vacation together. I was with Adriano for almost two years before we went to Prague for a weekend break.

That was before I inherited the restaurant, of course.

“You need a vacation, Lucia.” Lorenzo’s expression is implacable. “You’re working too hard.”

The weight of his disapproval is hard to bear. I know he’s right, but I don’t like that he’s pushing this.

“You need to back off, Lorenzo. This is not your business.”

He moves around the counter with startling speed to grab my arms and turn me on my seat to face him.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Lucia. Everything about you is my business.”

Extricating myself from his grip, I jump down from the stool and try to walk away. Lorenzo blocks my path.

“Come on, Lucia, I don’t want to fight. I’m concerned about you, that’s all.”

“You needn’t be. I’m a big girl. Trust me to know my limits.”

Lorenzo stares down at me for several long seconds. Then he lets out a long exhale.

“You’re right. I’ll not push it.”

I can tell it’s a major concession on his part, that he really wanted to lay down the law. That he didn’t act like an asshole shouldn’t be enough reason to reward him, but I push up onto my tiptoes and kiss him anyway.

Being the man he is, Lorenzo allows me control for all of two seconds before he puts a hand at the small of my back and pulls me closer as he deepens the kiss.

I wrap my arms around his neck as he picks me up by the waist and deposits me on the kitchen island.

He steps back, and I lift my hips to help him drag my shorts down. He tosses them carelessly aside as he unfastens his pants and lets loose his enormous cock.

Running a finger along my slit, he finds I’m already drenched. It doesn’t take much for this man to spike my arousal. One smoldering glance is enough for me to soak my panties.

“Hold on to my shoulders,” he instructs as he positions his cock, then thrusts inside me.

I sink my nails into the soft leather of his jacket as he drives in deep. The fullness almost overwhelms me.

Lorenzo pulls my t-shirt off over my head, and I moan as he teases my left nipple into a tight peak with a flick of his tongue before turning his attention to the right one.

“You like that, don’t you?” he taunts.

Before I can answer, he sinks his teeth into my breast, hard enough to leave a mark. I shriek, more in surprise than pain.

“Fuck, Lorenzo!” I smack his shoulder.

He looks up at me, a dark gleam in his eye.

“Did you just hit me, gattina ?”

“No,” I deny.

It’s not as if I slapped his face, after all. It was merely a pat on the shoulder to warn him he was hurting me. Lorenzo, unsurprisingly, doesn’t seem to see it that way. For him, it’s an opportunity for him to remind me who’s boss in whatever this thing between us is.

“First you hit me and then you lie about it.” A wicked grin spreads across his sinfully gorgeous lips. “Oh, Lucia, you are going to pay for that.”

Pulling me down from the countertop, he spins me around and bends me over the stool I was sitting on just a minute ago.

He spanks my ass three times, serving up a hint of pain that mellows into a delicious warmth. He nudges my ankles apart with his foot, and I don’t have the chance to process what’s happening before he’s back inside me.

“I would have been gentle with you,” he tells me, “but you just had to be a bad girl, didn’t you?”

“I wasn’t.” It’s not as if I committed some major infraction. I grab the leg of the stool to anchor myself as Lorenzo fucks me with savage thrusts that I’m sure I’ll feel for days to come.

“Oh, you were, and you want to know why?” He doesn’t wait for a response, just continues to ruthlessly drive his hips forward. “It’s because you like me ravaging your sweet little pussy. You want me to own you.”

There’s no point in denying it when my moans and whimpers reveal the truth. I do like the way Lorenzo punishes me with his cock. I love it when he’s rough with me.

He tangles his fingers in my hair and pulls until my head is wrenched backward and I cry out.

“You’re mine, aren’t you, Lucia? Mine to use however I want.”

When I don’t reply, he smacks me again. Pain blossoms into something distinctly erotic, and I shove my hips back, seeking the delicious agony only Lorenzo can inflict.

“I’m yours,” I confirm because no-one else could ever fit so perfectly inside of me.

“Good girl.”

Lorenzo rewards me by sliding his hand down to find my clit. He doesn’t release his grip on my hair, but he does loosen it.

As he strokes the throbbing bud between my legs, he fucks me at a furious pace. He growls as he drives ever deeper, trying to imprint himself on my soul.

With an animalistic grunt, he comes inside me. He withdraws and pulls me upright, then spins me around and kisses me hard.

His hand skims down my front, and he parts my folds. Pressing on my swollen clit with his thumb, he pushes two fingers inside me and fucks me with them so hard it hurts.

Pain is not the only sensation that grips me. My legs shake as lust courses through my veins.

“Come on, my little slut. Give it to me.”

The growly, demanding way he speaks sets off a detonation at my core. I gasp as I’m catapulted into a state of bliss. My knees give out as tremors run through me, but Lorenzo is there to catch me. He sweeps me up into his arms and carries me through to my bedroom.

With tenderness that contradicts the way he just fucked me, he lays me on my bed and pulls the cotton sheet over me.

“Get some more sleep, gattina .” He bends to kiss my forehead. “I have to go to work.”

A twinge of loneliness assails me as he walks away, but I don’t call him back. I’m already drifting into a blissful sleep.