Lorenzo (Chicago Ruthless, #3)

by Sadie Kincaid

“I slept with Mia.” He gapes at me. “Max?” “Fuck, Loz.” He shakes his head. “How was it?” “What the fuck, dipshit?” “What?” He frowns, face a mask of hurt. “She’s the first since Anya, right? It’s normal for me to ask how it went.” “That is not a normal response, Max.” He finally starts the car. “It is. That’s what I was expecting you to ask me after you found out I banged your sister,” he says, deadpan.

“Seriously though, Loz. How was it?” “The fuck, Max?” “I don’t mean how was the actual sex, fuck-nugget. How was it”—he waves a hand around—“like after and stuff. How were you? Is it an ongoing thing?” “Never happening again.” “And is she good with that?” “More than good,” I snap. “Oh?” He glances at me before turning his attention back to the road. “I don’t think she …” I swallow. “Don’t think she what?” I scrub a hand down my face. “Enjoyed it,” I mumble. “Sure she did,” he insists. “You’re like a top fucking Dom or something. I see those women drooling over you whenever we go anywhere near one of those clubs you used to go to.” He arches an eyebrow at me. “I didn’t make her come, Max,” I blurt out and immediately wish I could take the words back. “Well, uh, it’s been a long time.” Giving me an awkward look out of the corner of his eye, he clears his throat. “You didn’t expect there to be anyone after Anya. That’s some deep shit to process.” I rub a hand through my hair. “I feel so fucking guilty.”

While I’m chopping a tomato, a sudden memory of his tongue in my mouth makes me falter, and the knife slips, cutting my finger. “Ouch!” “Are you okay?” He grabs my hand, sending rivulets of pleasure coursing through me. Caressing the tip of my finger, he inspects it for damage. “It’s just a tiny scratch,” I insist, pulling my hand away. Goosebumps prickle along my skin. His eyes darken to black orbs. “You should be more careful, sunshine.” Sunshine? He’s never called me that before. My throat constricts. “I will,” I whisper hoarsely as the tension sizzles between us.

His tongue darts out, running over his bottom lip, and I swear I feel it between my thighs. I suck in a shaky breath. His dark eyes narrow. The damn microwave pings, and just like that, the spell is broken.

I turn to leave the kitchen, but he grabs hold of my wrist and tugs me forward. Our bodies are barely an inch apart. My heart races. Blood rushes south. My mouth is so dry that I can’t even swallow. Then he dips his head, hot breath dusting over the skin of my neck and making me shiver. “You seriously think we don’t have chemistry, Mia?” he asks with a low growl that travels directly between my thighs. “M-maybe it was a poor choice of words.” “Maybe?” “Yes. Clearly, we have something, but …” “But what?” “Well, it should have been fireworks, but it was more like a fizzle.” He glowers at me, jaw ticking. “A fizzle?” I should stop talking. Right now. But I am Mia freaking Stone, and talking when I should shut the hell up is my lifelong curse. “It’s okay, not every guy can make every woman come.” Holy crap, Mia. Why? Lorenzo snarls, his muscles vibrating with pent-up rage.

The way she looked at me when she said I couldn’t make her come. Throwing back the covers, I jump out of bed, cursing under my breath as I stalk to the bathroom. I’ve never been so insulted in my whole fucking life. Couldn’t make her come! I could make her come so fucking hard she’d still moan at the memory when she’s a hundred years old.

Before I can talk myself out of it, my hand darts out and catches her wrist. I squeeze tight, but she doesn’t flinch, and when I close the gap between us, her breath hitches. I dip my head low, brushing my lips dangerously close to her sweet-smelling skin. “I could make you come, Mia.”

“Prove it.”

I go on glaring at him. Daring him. His jaw ticks. That thick vein in his temple pulses, and I grow wetter with each passing millisecond. Then he closes his eyes, momentarily breaking our connection. He draws a breath through his nose, his hand still on my wrist, and an animalistic growl rumbles in his throat. Then he picks me up, wrapping my legs around his waist and carrying me across the room to the piano. His hard cock presses against my pussy, and I stifle a moan as I instinctively rub on him.

He places me down on the piano with a thud before taking a seat on the stool. “You sure about this?” I arch an eyebrow, unable to resist teasing him a little more. “Sure you can’t make me come? Yep.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Make you come,” he answers, deadpan. His hands coast higher up my legs, brushing over my knees and beneath my dress before skating along my outer thighs. “But how?” His dark eyes gleam dangerously. “Does it matter?” I swallow harshly. “I guess not.” But I’m lying.

“Surely you’re not nervous, sunshine? Not after you just threw down that gauntlet?” His hands move to the waistband of my panties. I harden my glare. “No.”

“I can smell your sweet pussy, sunshine,” he says with a low, rumbling growl that vibrates against my sensitive flesh. “So fucking wet for me, huh?” “Holy mother of god,” I murmur, letting my head hang back between my shoulder blades. “Mmhmm,” he mumbles, nipping at the skin at the very top of my thighs. “So fucking beautiful.” “Lorenzo!” I plead with him,

“Don’t be so impatient, Mia. I’ve waited a long time to taste this pussy. I’m going to savor every second.” He has?

“Please?” I whimper, desperate for more. He arches an eyebrow. “Begging, sunshine? You have no idea how much I enjoy that.” “I thought you were going to make me come?” I pant, growing needier and wetter the longer he torments me.

“Lorenzo, please?” I whine. He skims his hands all the way down to my ankles, and I whine. Why must he torture me by moving further away from where I want him? But then he grabs my ankles and lifts my legs. “Lie back,” he orders, planting my feet on his shoulders. With trembling limbs, I do as he tells me, hyperaware that I’m spread wide open and his face is only inches from me. I feel so self-conscious. “You have a beautiful pussy, Mia,” he says with an appreciative groan. “I’m gonna enjoy eating it so fucking much.”

When he finally kisses me there, his mouth pressed against my wet folds, I moan his name so loudly and wantonly that it makes him groan. His lips dance along my center, making heat sear deep in my core, and then his tongue darts out, warm and wet and soft, licking a path from my entrance up to my clit. “Holy Moses,” I gasp. “So. Fucking. Good.” His tongue swirls over and around my clit, lapping up my juices, animalistic grunts and growls rumbling from his throat. Warmth spreads through me as he coaxes wave after wave of pleasure from between my thighs, feasting on my pussy with skill and finesse. I was right. Lorenzo Moretti is a sex wizard.

“Oh, fu-oh,” I whimper. My climax builds to a crescendo. I reach the peak, and he maintains his steady yet relentless pace, and soon I’m bucking like a rodeo bull and screaming his name. Even after my hips still and I’m panting from the strength of my orgasm, he continues to suck and lick, wringing every last drop of pleasure from me. Blinking, I stare up at the ceiling, all the bones in my body turned to Jell-O. Only when I’ve stopped whimpering and trembling does Lorenzo let up. Despite the incredible orgasm he just wrung from my body, I groan at the loss of him. That was so much, yet not enough.

He stands and my heart stutters but resumes its rhythm when he plants his hands on the piano, bracketing my hips. His dark eyes burn into mine, searing into my soul. “You gonna let me fuck you, Mia?” Holy mother of bananas. “Yes please.”

She smells fucking incredible. Tastes even better.

I’m practically fucking feral with the need to drive my cock inside her, but establishing her consent is a big deal for me. Thank fucking god she said yes.

Her tongue darts out and moistens her lips. I bite back a chuckle. “You like what you see, sunshine?” “Yes,” she says with a soft purr.

“These pretty lips would look so good wrapped around my cock.” My little siren takes my thumb into her mouth, swirling her tongue over it and sucking softly. “If your cunt didn’t look so damn inviting right now, I’d put you on your knees and fuck your mouth instead.” She releases my thumb with a wet pop, and she gives me a wicked grin. “I have no gag reflex.” Holy fuck! I arch an eyebrow at her, trying to determine whether she’s screwing with me or telling the truth, but my instincts say it’s the latter. “I’ll be sure to test that theory some time.”

I push the tip inside her. She moans my name, her jaw slack. “You want this?” I give her a little more, wishing I could savor this but desperate to sink all the way inside her. Her hot pussy feels so good squeezing me. “Yes! Yes, please!” The sound of her pleading floods me with the insatiable desire to claim her. Grabbing her hips, I hold her still and fill every inch of her tight, wet channel. “Jesus fuck!” “Oh, god,” she moans at the same time, her back arching off the piano. “That feels … Oh! It feels so—” I pull out slowly and thrust inside her again, cutting off whatever she was going to say. Damn right it feels good. Relief seeps into every part of my body as her cunt ripples around my cock. She reaches for me, clawing at my skin. “Nuh-uh, little firecracker.” Grabbing her wrists, I pin them above her head with one hand. I like her this way, lying beneath me and taking everything I can give her. “Let’s see how hard I can make you come with my cock.”

“You love being fucked, don’t you, sunshine?” Biting down, I make her cry out. “Y-uh.” I roll my hips, rubbing the crown of my cock over her G-spot, and she hisses out a breath as I trail kisses across her collarbone. “And you’re such a good fuck,” I grunt in her ear, and her pussy squeezes me like a vise, making me grin. She’d make an amazing sub.

“Please let me come, Lorenzo.” My cock throbs, balls searing with need, and her words are my undoing. Spine tingling, I give her everything she desires. “Oh, god,” she screams as she falls over the edge. I graze my teeth over the shell of her ear. “Lorenzo will do fine.” With a grunt, I empty myself inside her, my release tearing through me with the force of a hurricane. Working to catch my breath, I release her wrists. Her arms wrap around my neck, and the euphoria melts away. “We can’t do this again, Mia,” I say quietly, unable to look her in the eyes.

I pause outside her door. She’s probably asleep, but I rest my forehead against the cool oak and knock as softly as I can. I’m about to walk away when the door opens and she’s standing there in a tiny tank top and panties. She smiles at me, like she knew I’d be here. Maybe we both did. “Everything okay?”

“I figured …” Studying her face, I try to determine whether I’m pushing too far. Can we both walk away if we do this again? She sinks her perfect white teeth into that lush lower lip, and all reason goes out of the window. “If it’s still the same day, it counts as the one time, right?” Her perky tits jiggle as she lets out the sexiest little laugh. “I think that’s right,” she agrees,

“I only want Mulcahy,” I assure him. “So, tell me what that fucker has on you.” He takes a deep, shuddering breath. “She was his girlfriend.” Girlfriend? What the fuck is he—oh, fuck no. Every muscle goes rigid. Max senses it and takes a step toward me. “That prick set it all up,” Hayes continues. “Told me she was into role-play and that they’d planned it all out. He said she was supposed to say no. The screaming was all part of the act. She was supposed to fight back.” Bile burns the back of my throat. Max places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. “Fight back?” Looking down at his feet, Hayes nods. “He told me it was all part of the fantasy. He even told me her safe word, but she never used it.” My growl echoes around the tiny room. “Stop talking in riddles, Hayes, and tell me what that fucker has on you.”

“He filmed it all. That twisted piece of shit filmed it all.” “Filmed what?” I shout. “Me f-fucking his girlfriend. He t-told me she had a rape fetish. I knew her. I knew that she’d toyed with the idea of it a few times. So one night …” He swallows hard, eyes darting between me and Max. My blood boils in my veins. “He arranged for me to h-have sex with her. He said it was the fantasy.”

“So she screamed at me. She scratched me and she c-cried, b-but I thought she wanted it.”

“What was her name? His girlfriend?” Max asks. “Sherrie Jackson.”

“I thought she was into it!” he insists. “I mean, what kind of animal allows their girlfriend to be raped?” My clipped fingernails dig into my palms as I fight against the urge to punch him in the face. If I start, I’ll never stop. “What kind of animal doesn’t establish enthusiastic consent before he engages in a rape scene?”

“So he had his girlfriend raped as punishment for cheating on him?” I’m going to kill that sick fuck if I ever see him again. Hayes shrugs. “I guess.” “So, how does this work? Mulcahy just comes to you when he wants a favor?” Max asks, his face furrowed in a frown as his mind ticks over. “That was how it worked, but I hadn’t heard from him in years. Not since I gathered enough information that could hurt him too. I told him that we were done.”

“Why give into him when you’d told him you were done?” Max asks. “He seemed different.” Hayes stares at the window for several moments. “Frantic. Like he’d lost his mind. He threatened to show my wife and the superintendent the video, even though I could bring him down just as easily as he could me.” I sit forward in my seat, but I don’t interrupt. “He didn’t give a shit. Said he was happy to take us both down, so I did what I could, while …”

“No. Prick up and disappeared. I spoke to his captain back in Boston, and he’s been on sick leave for three weeks. Apparently his wife left and he went completely off the rails.”

I don’t understand why—and I don’t wish to explore my reasoning—but I hate the thought of doing anything to cause her any degree of unhappiness. Still, I’ll take her displeasure if it means keeping her safe from that fucker.

The door opens, and even with my back to it, I know it’s him. It’s been a week since he fucked me on top of the piano in this very room, and despite our agreement that it wouldn’t happen again, it’s happened at least once a day. And again every night. Lorenzo comes to my bedroom every evening after I go to bed, but he never stays, always leaving once I fall asleep.

“You’re a distraction, sunshine,” he says with a low throaty growl, lips dusting over my ear and making goosebumps prickle along my forearms. A smile spreads across my face. “I am?” “An addictive distraction. You look good enough to eat.” “So eat me,” I offer, wiggling my ass against him. He sinks his teeth into the delicate skin of my neck, biting down and making me yelp from the combination of pain and pleasure.

“Be careful what you wish for, Mia.” Wetness pools between my thighs. “You could bite every inch of my body like that and you wouldn’t hear a single complaint from me.” His deep groan rumbles through my bones. “Yeah?” “Please?” I gasp out the word,

“You know what hearing you beg does to me.” I do know. It drives him wild, and I love it. “Please, Lorenzo,” I whine. Without warning, he spins me around and sets me on the third rung of the ladder beside us, then drops to his knees, a wicked look on his face. His tongue darts out to lick his full lips, and I nearly pass out from anticipation. Holy bananas! With a trembling grip, I grab onto the handrail while Lorenzo slides his hands over my ankles, gliding up my calves and past my knees. He slips them beneath my dress, pressing his palms on the inside of my thighs and spreading them wide open, forcing me up to my tiptoes. His fingers trail higher, and I whimper as he brushes over my panties, softly rubbing my clit through the fabric. I bite down on my lip, my eyes fluttering closed at the warm waves of pleasure radiating from that spot between my legs. “So easy for me, sunshine.”

“Hands behind your back,” he orders as he leans forward. I do what I’m told but struggle to maintain my balance on the small step. Thankfully, his huge frame keeps me in place while he loops his arms around the back of the ladder, grabbing hold of my wrists and pulling them through the rungs before binding them together with my own panties.

“If you move those feet, you won’t be coming. Understand?” From the way he has me folded up like a pretzel, I’d have difficulty moving them anyway. I imagine this isn’t the most flattering position I’ve ever been in, but from the fire in Lorenzo’s eyes, he’s sure enjoying it. “Y-yes,” I whimper,

“So fucking ready for me.” His growl vibrates through my core. “My fingers.” He slips one inside me and I release a rush of arousal. “My mouth.” A trail of heat follows his tongue from my collarbone up to my ear. “My cock?” He arches an eyebrow at me. “Yes,” I pant, needy and desperate. He rubs a hand over his beard and stares at me. “But something’s not quite right.” I frown. “W-what?” He fists his hands in the material at the front of my dress. “I want to see this beautiful body when I play with you.” In one swift move, he tears my lovely blue dress down the middle. “Much fucking better.” I feign a scowl. “You owe me a new dress.” “I’ll buy you twenty.”

wonder how many times I can make you come with just my fingers?”

“You feel how easily they slide into your tight cunt? So fucking wet and loose for me. I think you like being tied up, huh?”

Lorenzo brings his lips to my ear. “And if I press right here …” Going deeper, he curls the tip of his middle finger against a spot inside me that has never been touched before. It makes me want to howl like a prairie dog. Instead I shout his name as an orgasm more intense than anything I’ve experienced in my entire life barrels through me with the force of a neutron bomb. “Oh, there she is.” My body quakes with aftershocks. “W-what did you just do?” I whimper. “I found your G-spot is all, sunshine,”

“Wait until I make you squirt.” “What?” I gape at him. His fingers move gently in and out of me, giving my body time to recover. “You heard me.” “I c-can’t do that. My body doesn’t do that.”

“You hear how much your pussy loves my fingers, Mia?” “Y-yeah.” “You ready to soak us in your cum, sunshine?” “I can’t,” I insist. His eyes narrow and he licks his lips, murmuring something in Italian. Then he places his free hand flat on my lower abdomen, directly above my pussy, and presses firmly. Aching pulses of pleasure sear through my core. “Oh!” “Oh,” he parrots with a devilish smirk and curls the tip of his finger along my G-spot again, rubbing firmly. I feel it more intensely because of the pressure of his hand. Holy shit! As if that wasn’t enough to turn me into a gibbering wreck on the verge of melting into a puddle of cum, he straightens out the thumb of his hand pressed on my stomach and rubs the pad over my clit in slow, teasing circles. I buck against him. With my feet stuck in place and my hands bound to the ladder, I have nowhere to go. “L-Lorenzo, please!” “You gonna squirt for me?” he teases me. “I t-told you I c-can’t.” I scream as my back nearly bows in half.