30. Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty

Daniella

So this is what it is like to be rich.

I didn’t want to stay at the hospital, so I was brought back home. There has been a doctor with me twenty-four hours a day. I mean, it hasn’t been a day yet since the whole thing happened, but the doctor hasn’t left my side. It’s almost suffocating.

I’m on my second bag of what I’m guessing is an IV drip and I’m feeling my strength crawl back into me slowly. The pain in my head has receded and the doctor has assured me that both my baby and I are fine.

A little part of me wishes that Lorenzo was here with me right now, but I know that he has more important things to do. I know that he’s facing demands that he cannot battle and win if he is here worrying about me.

But then again, I have to get used to Lorenzo not being around. It’s not like I plan to stick around after all of this. I don’t know what I want to do, but I know that it is not this.

I don’t know if I can endure the weight of my feelings for Lorenzo or if I’m going to let it consume me. Either way, I have to figure out a plan.

“You’re doing okay. The baby’s vital signs are strong,” the doctor tells me, and I smile. The worry dissipates from me—not completely, but just enough to allow me to close my eyes.

The next time I open my eyes, it is bright outside. Morning has come. Not just morning, apparently, but midday.

I didn’t even know I could sleep for such a long time in one stretch. More than twelve hours. That just shows how exhausted I have been. I stretch my arms above my head and then I hear the voice.

“Morning.”

I gasp and turn to see him sitting in a chair beside my bed. Lorenzo. God, he’s a beautiful man.

His dark hair is tousled. His eyes look haunted, hooded, exhausted, but beautiful and trained on me. He’s still in yesterday’s clothes—boots, socks, everything. I gulp.

“Hey.”

I wring my hands together, unsure of how to act, unsure of what to do, unsure of what to say. This is uncharted territory for both of us.

We’re used to anger preceding our actions. We’re used to letting desire take control and take over. But now, those two things are missing. There is no anger and no desire. There is just us.

He sighs. “You look well-rested.”

I nod. “Yes. Twelve plus hours of sleep will do that to you.” I laugh under my breath, trying to ease the tension.

He sighs again and moves to get up. “I’m going to leave you alone now. I know you don’t want to see me.”

He stands, but I’m faster. I crawl across the bed and stop him with my hand on his thigh. “Wait,” I say.

He halts, his entire body clenching with tension. I quickly retract my hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to touch you.”

“It’s fine, Daniella,” he says, his voice softer than usual.

I sit up, struggling with the nervousness I feel. What is this? What is this anxiety and awkwardness? I didn’t even feel this way when I first met him that night. But then again, I was completely out of my mind drunk the first time we met.

“Don’t go, please,” I say, and he nods, sitting back down. I move away from him, crossing my legs and settling into the bed. We look at each other for what feels like an eternity and then it’s my turn to sigh.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry about everything that I said to you. I want you to know that I didn’t mean it. I don’t think that you’re a vile person and I know that you’re nicer, cooler, and way more amazing than anybody could ever know.”

The words tumble out of my mouth one after the other, kind of clustering together. I’m speaking so fast that I wonder if he even hears me or understands what I’m saying.

His eyes linger on me, and then he sighs, looking like he doesn’t believe what I’m saying. But why should he? Not after how vehemently I told him that I hated him.

I was upset, I had just found out about my fiancé and everything that happened. Rene, the lies, the deceit, and the manipulation. It was all too much for me, and I couldn’t take it.

“But after you left, and I didn’t speak to you, I regretted it.” My voice shakes, and I struggle to continue. Tears well up in my eyes. Damn pregnancy hormones. Damn my freaking tear ducts acting up all the time.

“When she told me that you had been shot, I hated myself because I didn’t want the last thing you heard me say to be that I hate you. Because that’s not true. I don’t hate you. I don’t hate you, Lorenzo. I never have.”

He still doesn’t say anything, he just looks at me. His gaze is so heavy, so strong and profound, that I feel like I’m melting beneath it. For a moment, I wonder what it’s like when he trains that look on his enemies and I quake with fear on their behalf.

“Say something, please,” I urge, and he shakes his head.

“I’m trying to wrap my head around what you’re saying right now, but it seems pretty hard to understand,” he replies, and I gulp again. I get up and crawl to him on the bed, until I’m practically in his lap.

“Lorenzo,” I start, but his eyes remain locked on me.

“Say it,” he insists.

“I don’t know,” I say, struggling to find the words.

“Very well, I’ll say it for you,” he says. “I love you, Tesoro . I think I have loved you from the moment that I saw you. Everything about you excites me. You call to my soul. Your presence, your laughter, your joy is my joy. Your happiness is my happiness. Your peace is my peace. I don’t think I’m anything without you. I try to remember what my life was like before you came along, and I cannot. And I hope that I never have to remember. I hope that I never lose you, because without you, I am nothing.”

He continues, “I don’t know what I love more, the fact that I can touch you like this, the fact that my child is growing in your stomach, or the fact that I am hoping, praying to God that you want me even half as much as I want you right now.”

Tears sting my eyes from his words. They pierce my heart because everything he’s saying, every single thing he’s feeling, I’m feeling it too. I love him.

I guess, if I’m being honest with myself, I have always loved him. That’s probably why I’ve always felt so conflicted when it comes to deciding what to do with him; the right thing or the morally ambiguous thing.

A tear slips down my face, and he wipes it away with his thumb. “Don’t cry. Please, I beg you, don’t cry. I will spend the rest of my life hating myself for making you cry. I will spend the rest of my life regretting that I caused you pain. I’m sorry. I should have been honest from the beginning about everything. I should have told you about Massimo, about my sister, about Jeremy. I should have been honest. I never should have lied to you. But I didn’t think you would want me. I didn’t think you would want to stay if you heard about all of those things. I didn’t think you would want to love me. I still don’t know if you can, if you want to.”

He stops again, holding my hand in his and bringing it to his mouth. He presses a kiss into my inner palm. “But it doesn’t matter. None of that matters right now because I love you. And if you will let me, I will love you hard enough for both of us. You won’t even have to lift a finger. Just stay with me. Just promise to stay with me. I will take care of you. I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Please.”

I crawl into his lap finally and he lets me. I straddle him and his arms move from my waist to my butt, cupping me and pulling me closer. I wrap my hands around his neck and press my body tighter against his.

“I love you too,” I say. “I love you so much it hurts. Everything hurts when I think about living a life where you’re not in it. Everything feels wrong when you’re not around. I enjoy playing with you. I enjoy flirting with you. I enjoy the way you touch me, the way you excite me. I enjoy growing your baby in my belly. I enjoy the life that we are building here. And even if we did not start right, I want us to continue now. Right. I want us to start over and I want us to make the right decisions from now on. No more lies, Lorenzo. No more deceit. No more manipulations. You have to promise me.”

“I promise you,” he says, pressing his hand to my stomach. “I promise you no more deceit. I’ll take care of you. I’ll keep you safe. You and the baby.”

I feel a flutter in my stomach and I smile, imagining that it’s the baby moving. I wonder what our life will be like before I’m interrupted by the hardness pressed against my inner thigh. I look down at Lorenzo and he smiles up at me.

I move my hips again and he groans, holding me by my waist. I grin at him expectantly. If this was a movie, it would be cue for an intensely hot make-out session. But he does nothing. He doesn’t move, even though I can feel him growing harder beneath me.

“You’re not doing anything,” I whisper and he clutches my hips tightly.

“I told you I wouldn’t touch you again until you tell me to.”

I open my mouth and a shocked gasp escapes.

“You want me to beg?”

“Don’t put ideas into my mind.”

I lean closer into him but he still doesn’t move. I take his hand and place it on my crotch, pressing tightly.

“Really? You’re going to make me do this all by myself?” I groan and arch my back as I rub myself faster and he swallows.

I don't think it is biologically possible for him to get harder than he is right now, but he does.

I lean down, pressing my lips to his neck. I kiss a path up to his neck, sticking out my tongue and licking as I go. His grip on me tightens and he groans again.

“Daniella, we need to talk more.”

“Yes, but not now, not right now.”

I unbutton his shirt and I see the bandage around his midsection. That sobers me up and I feel the tears again as I trail a finger across it lightly.

“Am I hurting you?” I ask him, and he thrusts forward so that his dick presses deeper into me. I moan, and he does too.

“Does it feel like you're hurting me?” I shake my head.

“Touch me. Please, I want to feel you everywhere.”

It’s like a switch is flipped on in him. And his mouth is on mine, and we are groaning into each other’s mouths.

He hoists me against his body and pulls off my shorts in one swift move that leaves me in just my lace thong.

“Already so wet for me. Such a good girl. Tell me all the dirty things you want me to do to you.”

His voice is like gravel, his tongue is like lava and his hand is a miracle on my inner thigh, creeping higher and higher until he gets to that damp spot. He shifts the thong to the side and rubs slow, tight circles that have me gasping and holding on to his shoulder blades for dear life.

I throw my head back when he inserts two fingers in and it takes everything in me not to scream.

The sounds are obscenely wet and I would be embarrassed at how turned on I am if I wasn't enjoying this so much. He kisses me and licks my jaw down to my neck, pulling my camisole down to reveal my breasts. His tongue laps and sucks on my nipples until I'm seeing fucking stars.

“Come on baby, take everything you need from me.”

He doesn't have to tell me twice. I increase my pace, riding his fingers. The orgasm rips through me so unexpectedly that I can do nothing about the scream that tears from my mouth.

“Fuck. I've dreamed of that sound, this look on your face right now. I have fucked my fist just thinking about it. I didn't think I would ever get to see it again.”

“Me neither,” I say and I bend my head and meet his mouth in a kiss. I can still feel him hard under me and because it’s something I've wanted for such a long time, I slide down his body and drop to my knees.

“Daniella, you don't have to.”

“Yeah, but I want to. You're not the only one who's been dreaming about this.” I stroke him through his pants and he closes his eyes.

“Please?” I'm already unbuckling his belt and pulling out his impressive length before he can respond. He's so hard and beautiful that I actually salivate. I give it one good tug and he throws his head back.

“Fuck, Daniella.”

Taking that as encouragement, I lock onto the tip and he groans and holds my head.

“Don’t play with me right now.”

I smile a very coy smile and wrap my lips around him. Then I lower my head to accommodate as much of him as I can. His groan is long and loud and he thrusts his hips forward, effectively fucking my face. I'm enjoying this so much that I don't even know when I moan, but that seems to really get him going.

“I’m going to fill that pretty mouth of yours with my cum.”

I suck faster, harder, using my hand where my mouth can't get to.

And then he comes. It fills my mouth, hot and salty. I swallow while he watches me and climbs down from the high.

“You’re imprinted in my brain. I'm never letting you go.”

“Good, because I'm not going anywhere.”