Page 63 of Lorenzo

I stare. Michelangelo’s David has nothing on the hard, sculpted lines of Lorenzo’s body.

Or the thick, heavy length of his cock jutting upward.

Lorenzo gathers me close and kisses me until desire courses through my body.

He positions himself on top of me, the blunt head of his cock pressing against my entrance.

I’m slick and ready from his mouth. Yet he moves carefully, inch by inch, watching my face.

For someone as cold and arrogant as Lorenzo, I sense he’s trying to read me. Trying to discover if I’m feeling pain or pleasure.

It’s all pleasure, and I’m sure he sees that.

I gasp as he suddenly breaks through my barrier.

After giving me a moment of recovery, he eases into rhythmic strides.

So this is sex, I think to myself, still recovering from the shock and sensation of Lorenzo becoming part of me.

When he ventures deeper and harder, my nails dig into his shoulders.

“Shh, schoolmarm. Breathe.”

He kisses away the tears that slip from the corners of my eyes.

“You feel so good. So tight around me.”

His strokes build a new kind of fire inside me.

Without consciously realizing it, I move against him. Then I wrap my legs around his waist, instinctively pulling him deeper.

Through my mix of emotions I realize that his every thrust is measured, angled to brush that sensitive spot inside me.

“Look at me,” Lorenzo commands.

Our eyes lock as the rhythm intensifies.

Lorenzo catches my wrists again, pinning them beside my head while he drives into me with deep, rolling strokes.

The contrast makes me dizzy with pleasure.

I come again with his name on my lips, clenching around him.

Only then does he let himself go, burying his face in my neck as he climaxes inside me with a low groan.

We stay tangled together afterward, his weight a comforting blanket.

Lorenzo’s fingers trace lazy circles on my back while I steady my breathing.

So it’s happened. The marriage has been consummated.

It’s only temporary.

But now I’m no longer sure I want it to end.

CHAPTER 28

EMILY