Page 52 of Lourdes & the Mafia
Fuuuuuck.
I bite hard on my bottom lip, tasting blood.
It draws Lorenzo’s attention to me once again. “The water is ready for you, Amore.”
A bath sounds so delicious right now. I’m carrying grime and ash from my little fly with that demon earlier, and it feels crusted into my scalp. And yet Lorenzo’s gaze is hot on my body, and it makes me too fearful to move.
I shift on my feet, clearing my throat. “Um…”
He smiles as though he knows what’s on my mind. “Feel free to undress, Amore. Of course, you could always bathe in that little set, yet I don’t think it will feel as good as if you were naked.”
His eyes shine with mischief, with a dare, like he wants to push me, see how brave I am.
And okay, I’m not ashamed of my body, even if my culture and family have always tried to make me feel inferior for it. But if they didn’t want us to be big, then they shouldn’t make such good food. Sure, I pack more pounds than what my family finds ‘acceptable,’ but I love my curves. I love the way my thighs come together, the stretch marks along my hips and breasts, even my rolls.
I’m a fucking goddess, damn it.
But Lorenzo is making me shy.
Because… because he’s looking at me as if he believes I’m a goddess, too. And it’s a fuckingfirstfor me, and I have no idea how to handle that information.
Except, maybe, I should just…
Slowly, I hook my thumbs into the side of the panty set, gliding them down my thighs until they fall down to my ankles. I kick out of them, holding Lorenzo’s gaze. He doesn’t break it, not even as I tug on the bottom of the silk number, pulling it over my shoulders. It isn’t until I drop it to the ground, that he finally tears his gaze away from me and looks down.
His gaze rakes over my body, the movement just as sensual as the rest of him. Even from the distance and the shadows casting over his curls and face, I can see the heat in his eyes. It feels like a pulsing, tangible thing that threatens to scorch me.
I want so badly to ignore it. My mind is trying so hard to grasp onto the voice that’s screaming inside of me ‘No dick, remember?!’ And yet, my heart shoves it away as my thighs slick wet with my arousal.
His eyes zero in on the place between my thighs. Almost like he can see it glistening from where he stands. Fuck, maybe he can. His nostrils flare like he can smell it. I stand perfectly still, letting him drink in his fill of me.
And somehow, I’ve never felt more beautiful than I do right now, as his eyes flick back up to me and he holds his hand out. “Come,” he whispers, in the same dark voice that Ramiel did earlier.
Just thinking about it, and the insinuation behind the both of their voices using that exact same word, propels me forward.
Once I reach the side of the tub, I take his hand. He grasps me tightly and there’s no sound except for that of our breathing. He guides me silently into the tub. My foot meets the water, and I let out a soft hiss as scalding heat starts to envelope the length of my legs.
When I’m submerged up to my shoulders, my muscles relax, and it feels like the stress of the day is suddenly melting away thanks to a warm bubble bath.
Fuck, I needed this.
“Sit right there along the edge,” Lorenzo rasps. I obey, my ass finding an inclining seat beneath the water that I take, leaning back against. “Now, let me take care of you, Amore.”
My hooded eyes are on him, and I fight back a whimper of need that wants to leave me. Those words alone are arousing. No one has ever offered to take care of me before. No one except Naomi, and even then, I felt her ever-growing disappointment in me every time, like my emotions were something she wasn’t equipped to handle. I understand why. She didn’t come from the coziest of backgrounds, and yet it still hurt.
And Lorenzo is offering me something I so desperately want… and need.
“Just relax. Close your eyes.”
Is it too trusting of me to obey? It doesn’t matter, because I do. I listen to what this man says. He’s practically a stranger and yet my body hums for him in a way it never did for any of my exes or hook-ups. His voice alone is enough to ignite something in me, and I don’t want to let go of it too soon.
No matter what promises or vows I made to myself.
I lean my head back. There’s silence. No sound but the flickering candlelight.
And then I feel him behind me. His hands press gently yet firmly into the roots of my curls. I groan as his fingers slowly massage my scalp. It feels… fuck, it feels so nice. The touch is followed by the spray of cool water, soaking through my coils.
There’s the sound of a squirt, the scent of argan shampoo, and then his fingers scrubbing it gently across my hair.
