Darkest Desires

Chapter 13

Lorenzo's POV:

...A few hours earlier...

I woke up from a nightmare, remembering that night. That one terrible night that turned me cold forever.

The day we lost Alessio. The day I killed someone with my bare hands for the first time. The day I felt such a helplessness I swore I'd never allow myself to feel again.

I went downstairs and started making his favourite meal, well, the only meal he could stomach when I cooked.

I wasn't the best cook, but on days where my mother was too beaten up to cook or let the staff see her like that and she'd give them days off. Days where not even makeup could hide her bruises, I'd have to cook.

Alessio hated everything I made, except our grandmas famous lasagna. I cooked it just like she did and it would make us feel like we're back in Italy for the summer, with our nonna, who would tell us we were too skinny with each visit, attempting to fatten us up.

The few weeks away from the yelling, kicking and screaming.

Making the lasagna made me feel closer to him for some reason.

Getting over his death is just something I haven't been able to do. It's been years and it's the one weakness I still have.

I grabbed a whiskey bottle from the cabinet and poured myself a glass.

By the time she came in, I was already tipsy. So tipsy that I didn't hate her as much as usual, or maybe my sadness just overpowered the hate.

And when I don't hate her as much, she actually becomes... beautiful.

Her proximity to me, her scent of vanilla hitting my nose as she wrapped up my hand made me want to take her right then and there.

She was able to take my sadness and turn it into desire and something else.. something I couldn't quite put my finger on, all I knew was that it scared me and I'm a man who's supposed to be scared of  nothing.

She'd known pain. Even though our stories were different, she knew exactly what it felt like to lose someone you loved so much. She knew what it felt like to never be able to see that person again.

The mixture of the different emotions was insufferable. I hated it. Feeling was definitely not my thing. So I dedcied to focus on the one feeling I knew all to well, the one I knew how to handle: desire.

Maybe we could have sex and go back to hating each other tomorrow, right?

God knows I need the distraction.

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"Anything for you principessa" I whisper in her ear and pull her closer to me.

That was... different, to say the least.

I knew from the moment I kissed her that I was fucked.

Her lips on mine felt.. right.

Which didn't make any sense because I hated her.

I should've fucked her brains out and made her my slut, but I couldn't.

I wanted to feel each moment, I wanted to engrave every inch of her body into memory. I wanted to savour each moan, each gasp and each toe curl.

Hearing her cry out my name,made me want to lose all my senses and just pummel her against the headboard, but she was so tight, I knew I'd hurt her.