Page 144 of Lorenzo

And I've never been more turned on in my life.

"You've had your fun, Donatella," he says, and the way he says my name, like it's both a salvation and a curse, sends a shiver down my spine. "Now you accept your fate."

His gaze is intense, dark, and full of promises I can't wait for him to keep.

My breath catches, my pulse quickening, my body preparing itself for him.

I am a puddle.

A willing, eager puddle.

"This is not my fate," I manage to say, my voice hoarse and unrecognizable. "This is a temporary setback."

He throws his head back and laughs. A full, rich, wonderful sound that fills the room and fills my chest.

"Oh, Donatella," he says, looking down at me, a soft, affectionate look on his face. "What am I going to do with you?"

"Fuck me already," I say, lifting my hips to his.

His eyes darken, and I nearly gasp at the raw desire I see in them. All traces of laughter are gone, replaced by a hunger so raw and primal that it almost frightens me.

Almost.

But I'm not afraid.

I've never been more sure of anything in my life.

He kisses me then. It's one of his slow, drugging kisses that robs me of all thought.

He takes my bottom lip between his teeth and bites down, not hard enough to hurt, but just enough to make me gasp. He takes advantage of my parted lips and sweeps his tongue inside, claiming my mouth in a devastating kiss.

It's a battle of wills, a dance of dominance, and I'm quickly losing.

I'm trapped beneath him, hands pinned above my head, legs spread wide for his cock, while his mouth devours mine.

I'm completely and utterly helpless, and I've never been more turned on.

He breaks the kiss and looks down at me, leaving me panting and breathless.

"Is this what you want, dolcezza?" he asks, his deep, velvety voice washing over me. He slides a hand between our bodies, his fingers finding my clit, swirling in the wetness there.

My body arches off the bed, a soft cry escaping my lips. He continues to work me, his fingers circling my clit in a maddeningly slow rhythm.

"I'm going to make you scream my name, dolcezza," he says, and the low, gravelly timbre of his voice goes straight through me. "And you're going to beg me for more."

"I don't beg," I say, automatically; a knee-jerk reaction.

He laughs, a low, deep sound. "Oh, you will," he says with a wolfish grin. "I promise."

I'm about to issue a retort, but he chooses that moment to shift, and the broad head of his cock is suddenly pressing against my entrance.

I freeze, my breath catching in my throat.

He teases me, sliding the head of his cock between the lips of my pussy, bumping against my clit, but never entering.

It is the sweetest form of torture.

My body is screaming for him, and I have to bite my lip to keep from begging. I will not give him the satisfaction.