"Make me stop," she whispers against my lips, her hand maintaining that torturous rhythm. "If you really don't want this, make me stop."
My head falls back against the shower wall. I should. I should grab her wrist, push her away, maintain the boundaries I've been desperately trying to keep. But her hand feels like heaven and hell combined, and she has destroyed whatever self-control I had left.
"I can't." The admission tears out of me.
She makes a soft sound of triumph, her thumb circling the head of my cock in a way that makes my knees weak. Her free hand slides up my chest, nails dragging lightly across my skin.
"Good," she breathes, pressing closer despite her wet clothes. "Because I'm tired of waiting, Lorenzo. Tired of you pushing me away when we both know this is what you want."
Her hand speeds up slightly, and I bite back another groan. My hands are still fisted at my sides, knuckles white with the effort of not touching her. If I touch her now, I won't stop. I'll rip those wet clothes off her body and take her right here against the shower wall, consequences be damned.
My control shatters completely. Her hand works me with perfect pressure, her mouth hot against mine, and I can't hold back anymore.
"Sophia—" Her name breaks on my lips as I come harder than I knew was possible, my whole body shaking with the force of it.
She doesn't stop kissing me, doesn't stop stroking me through every pulse, drawing it out until I'm gasping against her mouth. My legs threaten to give out, and I have to brace one hand against the wall to stay upright.
When she finally releases me, I'm wrecked. Completely destroyed by this slip of a girl who just brought me to my knees without even taking off her clothes.
She steps back, water still streaming over her soaked blouse and jeans. Her eyes hold mine. She looks like a goddess of vengeance, beautiful and terrifying.
"There," she says softly, reaching past me to turn off the water. "Now we're even."
Even? My brain struggles to process her words through the haze of my release. She steps out of the shower, her wet clothes clinging to every curve, leaving puddles on the marble floor.
I watch, frozen in place, as she peels off her soaked blouse. The wet fabric hits the floor with a slap. Her jeans follow, the denim stubborn and clinging to her legs. She strips down to her underwear. Black lace that makes my spent cock twitch with interest again.
She grabs one of my towels, wrapping it around herself before turning back to me. I'm still standing in the shower, water dripping from my hair, trying to understand what just happened.
"I need to get dressed," she says, her voice casual like she didn't just destroy me. "I have an engagement party to attend. My fiancé is expecting me."
She picks up her wet clothes, holding them away from her body.
"You should probably get ready too," she adds, heading for the door. "Pietro won't be happy if we're late."
She pauses in the doorway, looking back at me over her shoulder. Water still clings to her skin, her hair dark and tangled from the shower. She's never looked more beautiful or more dangerous.
"Oh, and Lorenzo?" Her lips curve in a smile that promises retribution. "Next time you want to jerk off thinking about me, just ask. I might be willing to help."
Then she's gone, leaving me standing naked in my shower, my release still coating the marble wall, my brain completely scrambled.
She played me. Perfectly. Three days of torture, of pushing every button, and then she strikes when I'm most vulnerable. Takes what she wants and leaves me devastated in her wake.
I didn't touch her. Not once. My hands stayed fisted at my sides even when every instinct screamed at me to grab her, to press her against the wall, to claim her properly.
Because fucking her quickly in a shower isn't what she deserves. She deserves to be worshipped, to be taken apart slowly and carefully until she's sobbing my name.
And after tonight's party, she's going to get exactly what she's been begging for.
She'll get it all. Every dark fantasy I've been fighting. Every filthy thought that's kept me awake. I'll fuck her until she can't walk, can't think, can't remember any name but mine.
Until she's begging me to stop.
The thought should disturb me. Instead, it makes me hard again.
Sophia
I clutch the towel tighter around my body, wet clothes bundledin my arms as I peek out Lorenzo's bedroom door. The hallway stretches empty in both directions. Thank God.
