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The first stroke was slow yet firm, devastatingly sure, and the sound escaping me was closer to a sob than anything I had planned.
"A...ahh–!"
It felt so damn good...shockingly, almost painfully good, that for a moment I genuinely had no idea how to handle it.
My hips jerked into his grip automatically, and Lorenzo’s deep chuckle vibrated against my neck where his mouth was hard at work.
"Tell me, have you ever even touched yourself before, love?" he asked, his voice a mix of amusement and something darker, never easing up on the stroke.
"Mind...yo–your damn business." I moaned and Lorenzo tightened his grip at the back of my neck.
"Answer me, Alex." He said.
I shook my head, the motion jerky, my face heating up even more than the steam could explain.
"N...no...I haven’t, my father says doing that without an alpha is...oh...fuck... dis–disgraceful."
He laughed softly, darkly. "That’s interesting. How do you deal with your heats, then?"
The next slow pull of his fist made my answer stumble out.
"I... I just struggle through it with...with cold baths and supressants."
He kissed me again, deep and almost tender for just a moment before he spoke against my lips.
"Must have been difficult. Felt like you were losing your mind, right? Oh, you poor thing."
I nodded, remembering all those heats spent locked away with nothing but suppressants and gritted teeth, knowing there was no real relief waiting on the other side.
The memory intensified the pleasure, like my body was trying to make up for years of craving all at once.
"Well," Lorenzo murmured, tightening his grip just a fraction, making it a bit filthier, "That’s why you need me. Stay with me, beautiful. I’ll take good care of you...heat or no heat, my love."
He kept stroking me, relentless, and I could feel the shame curling in me even as my hips chased the movements of his fist.
Somewhere in the midst of it, I managed to think, with the last bits of sarcasm I had left, that it was almost unfair how someone so composed could talk like this, sounding so dirty and sure while his hand worked me open under the water like he had all the time in the world.
"You’re so pure it’s almost unreal," he said against my throat, brushing his lips over my scent gland again.
"I want to protect you, hide you away from this hell we call a world... but at the same time I also want to ruin you. Will you let me do that, amore bello?"
I managed a grunt that tried to sound defiant but came out more like a plea.
"N...never, you fucking psycho!"
He laughed and it was soft, delighted, utterly unconvinced and made a hickey on my neck so close to the gland that the sensations blurred my vision.
His hand didn’t stop, the rhythm becoming just a bit more demanding, the water accentuating every slick stroke, making it feel more intimate than it ever had a right to.
"I suppose we’ll just have to see about that then." he murmured, his voice dropping into something low and absolute.
"Now come for me, omega."
That command hit something deep and instinctual, and my body...traitorous, starved, past the point of real resistance, obeyed.
Pleasure crashed through me in a long, shuddering wave, leaving me gasping against his shoulder, fingers tangled in his long hair, hips helplessly thrusting into the tight heat of his grip as the water churned around us.
He didn’t stop until the last tremor faded, murmuring rough praise against his throat, and only then did his movements slow and finally come to a stop.
We stayed like that for a moment, both of us breathing heavily, the water now restless.
I felt completely wrecked, lips swollen from his kisses, neck marked from his claiming touch, my eyes probably dazed and way too revealing.
Lorenzo looked like a man barely holding himself together, his own desire still pressing firmly against my hip, his gaze dark and intense as he watched me try to figure out how to exist in a body that had just thrown every bit of dignity I thought I still had right out the window.
Maybe I had been possessed! There was no way I has just iet him jerk me off!
I had to be out of my fucking mind!
Well more than usual...
He just kept me close, one hand possessively resting on my waist in the water while he kept inhaling my scent like it was something addictive.
I focused on the side of his neck, because looking at his face felt like admitting defeat all over again.
My brain, ever helpful, was running wild with a commentary like:
"Congratulations, bitch. How are you ever going to recover from this fiasco?"
Lorenzo’s thumb brushed lightly over the sensitive skin just above my hip, a casual yet possessive touch. "You still with me, Alex?"
"Define ’with you,’" I replied, my voice rough.
He smirked against my temple. "Good. I like that you’re still talking. Even when you’re being a pain."
"I’m always a pain. It’s my one consistent trait."
"Mm." He shifted just enough for the hard line of him to press more against my hip, a quiet reminder that he hadn’t taken anything for himself yet.
"We’ll work on that later. For now..." He brought his hand up, tilted my chin so I had no choice but to look into those green, lustful, yet satisfied eyes.
"Breathe. I’m not done with you, but I’m also not going to take more than you can handle tonight."
My eyes widened, oh hell no!
That consideration should have been soothing.
Instead, it twisted the ache in my gut into something dangerously close to craving more, which was just plain rude of my own body.
I dropped my forehead against his shoulder and mumbled into his wet skin.
"I am," he said without missing a beat. "And you’re still here. Still letting me hold you. That says more than any denial you’ve tried to throw at me."
I didn’t have a retort that wouldn’t sound like another surrender, so I stayed quiet, letting the steam do the talking for both of us.
The water lapped gently at our sides while my pulse struggled to return to its normal pace.
And that sarcastic little voice in the back of my head had gone suspiciously quiet, as if even it had finally decided that, for once, the smartest move was just to be still and see what came next.
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"Amore bello" = Beautiful love
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