Lorenzo: A Grumpy/ Sunshine, Dark mafia Romance (Chicago Ruthless Book 3)

Lorenzo: Chapter 20



My cock throbs painfully as soon as I open my eyes, just like it has every morning for the past two weeks. I stalk through this house in a constant state of semi-arousal, feeling like I’m going to tear someone’s head off. Only now I can’t jerk off because Mia is all I can see when I do. Incessant thoughts of her fill my mind. Her sensuous curves. Her smile. The way she smells—so sweet and tempting. The memory of her hot, wet cunt squeezing my cock. 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.

Rubbing my temples in an attempt to stem the ever-present throbbing, I make my way to the library. She’s here. Of course she is. I can’t avoid her—or maybe I can’t stay away from her.

I walk to my desk, and she sashays past me, her perfectly round ass swaying seductively in that little yellow dress she’s wearing—the same one she wore the night she arrived. My cock twitches in my pants at the sight and the thought of all the filthy, depraved things I’d like to do to her.

“Oh, bananas,” she mutters, stooping to pick up the pen she dropped on the floor. Holy fuck! Does she do this to me on purpose? Get some sick kind of thrill from making me walk around with a constant erection? I try to avert my eyes, but they’re glued to her. Fixated on every sumptuous curve, every single movement of her sexy body.

She stands up straight and spins on her heel to face me, and I almost throw out my goddamn back trying to make it appear like I’m not staring at her ass. The grin that tugs at the corners of her full pink lips tells me I wasn’t fast enough.

“You need any help there?” she says, glancing down.

I frown at her, and it takes me a few beats to realize she’s talking about the papers in my hand, not the bulge in my suit pants.

“No, it’s fine.”

“If you’re sure.” She sinks her teeth into the pillowy cushion of her bottom lip and flutters her eyelashes. She’s fucking with me, right? Nobody can look that fucking seductive just being their regular self. Everything about this woman drives me crazy. The way she tucks her hair behind her ear. Her scent. The way she smiles—all the goddamn time. Her perky tits and how they heave and jiggle when she takes a deep breath. How she hums along randomly to tunes that pop into her head. Even the way she talks far too much. “I guess I’ll just get out of your way then,” she adds as she sashays across the room toward me, her hips swaying seductively. Like a hypnotist’s pendulum, they draw my entire focus.

Yes, she should get out of my goddamn way. She should fucking run from me before—

Her scent hits me, jasmine and lemon, and my mouth waters. All I need is one little taste. 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.”

She shivers, but her dark eyes fix on mine. They’re more brown today, her pupils blown wide as she glares at me in challenge. She licks her lower lip and every single cell in my body screams for her. Her full pink lips part, and she breathes out two words. “Prove it.”


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