𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 - 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐄 - 𝟏𝟖+

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

L O R E N Z O

I didn't know what was it about her, but Andrea was doing something to me, something that burned me up from the inside with this incessant need to conquer her. To mark her. I was ice; I knew that. Fucking everyone knew that, and yet here I was playing with fire. Knowing full well what it'd make of me.
Running a hand through my hair, I sprayed my Tom Ford cologne on my body and finished getting dressed. I was just pulling my black jacket over my shoulders when Andrea stepped into the room. I swallowed as I looked her up and down. Her dress—if it could be called that—barely covered her. The dress hugged her frame like a second-skin, flowing over her like pools of silk, and fuck me, that slit at the side would be the death of me. Andrea looked annoyingly sexy, especially with that lipstick on her lips that I'd like to smear off her mouth, preferably with my cock. I struggled to find my ice again, but staring at her wasn't helping my predicament.

I cleared my throat and buttoned my jacket, focusing on something other than my motherfucking wife.
"Ready?" I barely recognized the need in my voice and clenched my fist on my side.
"Uh—almost?" Andrea said nervously, biting her lip when I narrowed my eyes at her, "I can't clasp my heels," she sighed exasperatedly, her fingers holding her dress up as an explanation.
"And what do you suggest I do about that?" It took every last bit of self-control I had to act indifferent when I was anything but.
"Oh, I don't know, maybe order one of the many men you keep around to fan your ego." Andrea rolled her eyes as I took a predatory step towards her.
"Careful, mia cara. I've told you before if you want something from me. Ask, and drop the sarcasm."

Andrea scowled, her face twisting in anger before she exhaled, and looked at me through her eyelashes. "Can you help me?" I hiked a brow, "please...."

Before I had a chance to think, I dropped down on one knee and held the back of her leg with my hands. I'd never done that for anyone before; however, I couldn't bring myself to care about that when my fingers roamed on her skin, and she gasped, her hands landing on my shoulder as she ground herself on my face.

Fucking shit.

I'd brought that on myself. I lifted my head to look at her, the heady lust in her gaze startling but not surprising. Clenching my jaw, I cleared my throat and stood up, towering over her. "I think you should sit down."
"Okay." She whispered softly before slowly walking to the bed, and sitting, her dress pooling around her.

I followed her and sat on my knee in front of her. With my eyes locked on hers, I pushed her dress up, revealing her creamy legs. The very ones I'd imagined wrapped around my waist countless times as I'd fuck her like I was beginning to realize both of us wanted. Andrea shivered as my fingertips brushed against her thighs, my face dangerously close to her core. Electricity crackled through my hand, going all the way to my heart as a frenzy of static besieged us.

"Hold your dress." Andrea fisted the soft fabric in a death grip, and I couldn't help but think about those fingers in my hair tugging at the roots as she'd rocked against my thigh not too long ago.

My thoughts were no longer mine. I wanted this woman, and I wasn't particularly happy at holding back for someone who always got what he wanted.

Holding her leg in my hands, I eyed the straps and clasped them. I'd only finished her other shoe when I became increasingly aware of her sharp breathing and her trembling legs in my hands.

She was the quintessential aphrodisiac, and she didn't need to do anything except be herself. Andrea wasn't seeking my attention, but now she had it.
All of it.

Even though my strange attachment to her was turning me into a prisoner.

I knew I was failing my resolve when I leaned forward and pressed my lips against her thigh.
Remember how I said I was playing with fire? I didn't think I was just doing that, I was dancing with death, and if it ended, neither one of us would make it alive.

Yet, I couldn't bring myself to care.

My lips itched to move further up her leg, to take her where she wanted me most. I felt her hands move, and I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, inhaling her arousal before I moved back and stood up, offering her my hand.
"We should go."

Andrea blinked, her eyelids staying close for a fraction of a second before she opened her eyes again, staring at me with flushed cheeks and eyes alight with fireworks.

I didn't miss what shone in her eyes, nervousness was merely a fugitive, chased by sheer determination, but I couldn't figure out what was it that she was after.

This was going to be a very long night.

***

A N D R E A

I hadn't expected the nervousness that came with accompanying Lorenzo to a public gathering. For some reason, my hands were sweaty, and I kept thinking of ways to avoid going inside even when the car came to a stop at our destination. When I was busy taking a deep breath to prepare myself, Lorenzo got off and came to my door. He'd already opened it. His hand outstretched for me to take. I couldn't help but look between his face and his hand, wondering if it was a trick of his.
"I hope you're not planning to make me wait all night," Lorenzo's voice broke me out of my head, and I blinked, taking his hand as I stepped out of the limo.

"Didn't take you for a gentleman, Lorenzo."
"I'm not." He tugged me forward, seemingly uncaring that I was in bloody high heels. I stumbled and nearly collided with his back when he tilted his body, holding me steady with his hand on my lower back.

"Did you have to do that?"
"Do what?"
His indifference infuriated me. His ice made me debate if waiting for it to melt was the best course of action or if I should just use everything in my arsenal to crush it. I hated this side of him. The one where he pretended to be cold, all while his touch burned warmer than frost ever could.
I didn't know if pushing him to the precipice of his restraint would help me, but I couldn't live with having him as a ghost by my side anymore. We were already married; I couldn't really see any reason for his reservations. If someone wanted me dead, they would do it anyway. Whether he was fucking me or not was inconsequential, and I was going to make him see that.

Lorenzo couldn't deny that there was something between us, something neither of us could help or were immune to. He needed to stop fighting this; however, I didn't see any way to make him see that I wasn't a threat to him.

I hadn't noticed that we'd exchanged the chilly air for a warm hall filled with men in suits and women in pretentious dresses.

"Be on your best behavior tonight," Lorenzo's smooth voice whispered in my ear, and goosebumps rose all over my skin.
"And what the hell does that mean?" I twisted in his arms, turning to face him, a smile faker than his coldness plastered on my face.
"Play the part of the doting wife we both know you aren't."
I traced his stubbled jaw with my fingers, meeting his icy gaze with stubbornness, "Oh, you mean I'm not satisfying your needs."

Lorenzo opened his mouth to argue when I covered his lips with my fingers. I felt his arms tighten around my waist warningly, but I was done playing safe. I stood on my toes, holding the lapel of his coat, and spoke next to his ear, "well, guess what, dear husband, you aren't fulfilling my needs either,"

***
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