Chapter 87: Your Hidden Desires (18+)

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I was still shaking, slick with sweat, and so furious that my vision was blurred when the last thread of my self-restraint finally snapped.

It was like a dam breaking under the pressure of physical frustration, leftover humiliation, and a pulse of arousal that made every breath feel like a jab at whatever was left of my pride.

The heat from Lorenzo’s mouth still throbbed between my legs, a live wire forgotten in a corner, and the denied orgasm sat heavy beneath my skin.

With every second he lay there looking all calm and satisfied, it just added fuel to the fire until I was at my breaking point.

This little prick! How dare he try to leave me like this?! He was the one who started this to begin with!

Not to mention him hiding under the guise of massage and me falling for it as I had forgotten about my body’s stupid inability to refuse him!

It was almost as if my body and Omega instincts had long since claimed him and was just waiting for my brain to catch up.

Like hell I’d let him mess me up and get away with that!

One moment I was face down, wrecked against the sheets with oil still cooling on my back, and the next I was shoving at his shoulders with all my strength...more force than grace, and way less dignity than I’d ever admit to later and rolling him onto his back before either of us could pretend this wasn’t just me losing the last shred of self-control he’d pushed me to with that filthy mouth of his.

"You can’t just leave me like that, Dracula." I said through gritted teeth, my voice shaking as I pinned his wrists to the mattress, putting my weight into it even though we both knew he could’ve flipped me off him with no effort if he wanted to.

But he didn’t... the bastard was much stronger than me, and we knew it. He just laid there with that dark, amused look growing on his face, like he had been waiting for this chaos all evening. "I’m done your bullshit. You can’t do that to me and act like nothing happened...stay still!"

I was still bare and slick from earlier, my thighs feeling sticky, and when I sank down against him, the immediate friction was filthy and almost overwhelming. Wet sounds filled the quiet room as I began grinding my hips in short, desperate rolls that had nothing to do with seduction and everything to do with the fact that I was done waiting for the permission he clearly wasn’t about to give. I hated how good it felt.

I hated how badly I needed it after he had worked me up and then just left me hanging like I was supposed to learn some kind of lesson.

Most of all, I hated the way Lorenzo’s eyes seemed to capture every single one of my movements like he was documenting the exact moment I stopped pretending I had control over the situation...or my traitorous body.

"This is your fault," I muttered, leaning in so I could keep his wrists pinned while my hips kept grinding in messy, desperate circles. The leftover oil mixed with my slick created a loud, slippery mess that made my ears burn. "You started this... but, you don’t get to decide when it ends. Screw you for thinking you can just stop whenever you want."

"Oh?" His voice was low and almost amused, a smirk playing on his lips that made me want to bite him just to wipe that expression off his face. "Well, who am I to refuse my darling husband? Go on then."

And I did. God help me, I did.

I rolled my hips harder, chasing that friction without a hint of finesse or shame, the wet slide of my body against the fabric covering him creating a noise that should’ve made me embarrassed.

But I was beyond that now. Everything felt embarrassing...from how my thighs trembled with effort to the helpless sounds escaping me no matter how hard I tried to hold them back and how I barely even knew what I was even doing.

Lorenzo flexed his hands beneath my grip, a reminder that he was choosing this, not being overpowered.

Just that subtle shift of his hips sent a jolt through me, one that made my next insult come out thinner and breathless.

"D...Don’t look at me like that," I snapped, though my body betrayed me by grinding down harder, seeking more of that delicious pressure against my aching desire. "I hate you. I actually hate you right now."

"Look at you... taking what you want." His voice had taken on a rougher edge but still held that infuriating amusement, like I was putting on a show for an audience that already knew how it was going to end. "That’s it, Tesoro Mio... Use me."

I wanted to tell him to shut up. I wanted to insist that this meant nothing, that I was only doing this because he left me aching and dripping after teasing me with that filthy mouth.

But instead, my hips stuttered, and I cursed him again, spewing insults that fell apart each time the angle hit just right, sending sparks racing up my spine and making coherent thought feel like a luxury I couldn’t afford anymore.

The leftover oil and my slick had turned everything into a messy, wet scene, the sound of me grinding down on him him filling the room, burning my face with embarrassment that was somehow eclipsed by the desire still coiling in my gut.

Lorenzo watched me, his emerald eyes heavy and full of heat, occasionally grinding up in a slow, deliberate way that made my breath hitch and my rhythm falter.

"Is this what you needed?" he asked, voice so calm it drove me a little mad. "Is this what you truly wanted when you were cursing at me all this time we’ve been married?"

"Shut up... just shut up and stay there," I managed to say, my forehead dropping toward his shoulder as the pleasure built too quickly.

Every muscle that had been sore before now felt tense in a totally different way, all because of the man beneath me. "I can’t believe I’m...fuck! This doesn’t mean anything. You’re still a controlling bastard. I’m only doing this because you left me like that—"

"You’re shaking, my love." His voice was softer now, almost curious, as if he was genuinely fascinated by how I was falling apart on top of him with nothing but friction between us. "Does it feel better like this? You’re dripping on me...go ahead. Come all over me if that’s what you need."

I hated how right he was. I hated the way my body tightened around the rising tension, my thighs gripping his hips as I chased the edge with frantic movements that had discarded any pretense of control.

Lorenzo’s hands slipped free of my grip to rest on my waist, not controlling but holding, thumbs drawing circles against my skin that made everything worse in the best way.

The contrast between my angry, cursing self and the shameless way my body was using him for release was unbearable...the wet sound of skin meeting fabric mixed with every filthy comment he made, pushing me closer to that edge I was desperately trying to avoid until I felt myself unraveling.

"You’re even more beautiful when you stop pretending," he murmured, and that quiet fondness in his voice was what finally sent me over the edge I had been fighting.

I came hard, my hips stuttering in messy rolls, a broken sound escaping me as the orgasm crashed through every sore muscle he had worked earlier.

It was overwhelming, far too intense after being denied for so long, and I collapsed forward against him, forehead pressed to his shoulder as I tried to catch my breath through the aftershocks that refused to settle.

For a moment, I just stayed there, struggling to breathe as if I’d run a mile uphill, embarrassed and twitching, the anger fading into nothing but embarrassment and a lingering want that wouldn’t quiet down no matter how hard I tried to shove it away.

"...Damn," I finally managed, my voice muffled against his skin, rough from the exhaustion that came after losing a battle with my own body. "Don’t say anything. I still hate you."

Lorenzo’s hand glided up my back in a slow, soothing stroke that felt too intimate after everything that had just happened. His warmth spread across the spots he’d massaged earlier, reminding me how thoroughly he’d taken me apart tonight.

"There you go... Isn’t that better?" he said, his voice soft and satisfied but carrying a dangerous edge, as if he was filing this entire incident away for future reference.

"You can keep telling yourself you hate me; your body already chose a side." Then, quieter, right against my temple like a promise I wasn’t ready to face.

So that was his plan from the very beginning, the whole massage was just a ploy to get get to show me just how I craved him deep down no matter how much I tried to suppress my feelings for him.

Always two fucking steps ahead! It wasn’t fair!