La Sposa (20 page)

“
I think I had too much wine and
you should go—” Marietta said, as she opened the bathroom door. She
paused, choking down the rest of her words. It felt as if time
froze momentarily before she slammed the door to the bathroom shut.
He tossed the cassette player and charged across the room. Lorenzo
tried the doorknob and found it locked. He threw his shoulder
against it and the wood splintered but did not give. Furious, he
kicked the door several times before it crashed inward and charged
inside. She rushed him, spraying cold sticky acid into his eyes,
temporarily blinding him. The pain was instant. He staggered back
in agony, stumbling over his own feet.

Marietta got around him. He sensed her deft
move rather than saw it. She bolted out of the bathroom. He grabbed
for her, but she was damn fast. His eyes felt as if they were
bleeding tears. However, his rage was the fuel he needed. He went
after her. Caught her before she reached the door. Lorenzo wasn’t
expecting the way she fought back. Marietta was a pale blur of
swinging arms, scratching nails and wild hair, thanks to his
impaired vision. Just like Silvio Negali warned, she fought him
viciously. Her nails were like talons, and the slap across his face
felt like several knife points slicing into his skin. He struggled
to get a hold of her. But thanks to his mounting injuries under her
attack, he grew short of breath with the awful tussle. And eerily
as they fought, she didn’t scream, beg, or explain the damning
evidence. She just fought back hard and fierce.

He grabbed the front of her dress. In an
attempt to get his hand on her throat his grip failed, and the
material ripped all the way through to her bra, unsnapping the
front enclosure. He struggled with her clumsily, unable to decide
on whether to restrain her or snap her fucking neck. And then he
lost his footing. Together, they fell and rolled with Marietta
twisting free. She crawled away from him. He dragged her by her
ankle and she kicked at him with her free leg, the heel of her shoe
swiped him across the face. Lorenzo nearly howled with rage. He
dragged her under him. To his surprise, she bit his shoulder and
drove her knee up to plow into his groin, weakening him. He dropped
over in pain. Marietta was quick about her next action. She was on
top of him. The next thing he knew, he was looking up into the
barrel of his own gun.

Earlier, he slipped it to the side of the sofa
cushion. Darkness threatened to collapse inward, stealing his
vision. Lorenzo blinked several times. His eyes were aflame with
raw hurt, but clarity was beginning to return. She straddled him
with tight thighs that even now, after the hell-fight she put up,
he found her exciting. Her breasts were on display with thick dark
nipples and a trim flat waist. Her makeup smeared, but her eyes
were narrowed into angry slits under lowered brows. She had a
determined lethal look in her eye. He had underestimated this one.
How the hell did he let her get his fucking gun?

“
From the day I arrived here, I
have been treated like a joke. An irritant, a bastard, and now a
fucking target!” She shouted into his face. Marietta trembled with
rage. Her temples pounded thickly, her throat went dry, and her
heart beat so fast it staggered her breathing. “I’m nobody’s
fucking victim! Do you hear me? If you even blink at me I will put
a hole in your skull.”

“
You know how to use that gun,
Cara
?” he asked. “You’ll need to release the safety before
you make good on that promise.”

She sniffed. Her thumb trembled as it pushed
against the tiny lever to release the safety. But once done, her
hands became steady again as she pressed the end of her gun to the
crease between his brows. Her face grew hot with humiliation. His
smile mocked her bravery. “Aren’t you afraid of dying?”

Lorenzo smirked. “We all die eventually. Why
fear the inevitable?”

“
Don’t make a move. I mean it. I’ll
do it.

Unfortunately her threat appeared to have
little effect on him. The asshole even instructed her on how to use
the gun. It was impossible to read anything but death and
destruction beyond the hard glare fixated on her now. If he was so
fearless, why did he remain deadly still? Was he curious,
impatient, and a bit pissed off that she turned the tables on him?
Whatever he was, he wasn’t what she’d hoped he’d be,
scared.

Lorenzo’s face was a scratched up bloody mess.
His eyes had a waxy raw hurt look to them that turned the whites
pink and made the skin beneath his lower lids a bit puffy. He had
to be in a tremendous amount of pain from the scratches on his
face, the bite she gave him on his shoulder, and her knee to his
groin. But he didn’t even flinch. He lay there, as if he requested
the lap dance with a gun to his head. She felt a twinge of sympathy
for how badly things had progressed between them. Not enough to
give up her advantage.

“
I know this looks bad. What you
found. It looks bad okay? But I can explain,” Marietta
began.

“
This isn’t America. Things are
done differently here. Do you know who my family is? Who I am? You
pull that trigger and a man much scarier than me will pay you a
visit.”

“
È la vita.”
Marietta
sniffed and shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve had a shitty hand dealt
to me all my life. It happens. Here’s what you’re going to do.
First, you need to understand I’m not your enemy.”

“
Davvero?
You have a gun to
my face,” Lorenzo chuckled. He put his hands behind his head and
relaxed. Having him between her thighs as she straddled his waist
put her at ease too. She felt a sense of control, though common
sense warned her that it was false.

Dammit.

Why was she so messed up in the head that even
now she could be turned on by a man who tried to take her life?
There was so much pain in her, she didn’t own her
emotions.

“
We want the same thing, Lorenzo.
Answers. First, let me give you yours. See that paper over
there?”

His gaze dropped to the right.

“
Did you read it?”

He returned his glare to her.

“
Of course you didn’t. You saw the
cassette tape and then tried to snap my neck. Typical male
testosterone bullshit. Fight first and think last. Get the damn
letter! Read it!”

Lorenzo removed his right arm slowly from
behind his head. He never took his eyes off her. He reached and
gripped the edge of the paper by two fingers and brought it over.
He read it.

“
When I got that letter and
cassette I thought I could leverage it, seduce you into telling me
what I wanted to know. Whoever sent it to me said you had the
answers I came to Italy for.”

“
It says Isabella sent it to you.
Who is she?” Lorenzo asked.

Marietta shrugged. “I don’t know. That’s the
truth.”

“
It’s not an answer. Who the fuck
is Isabella to you? Enough games!”

“
I told you I don’t know,” she
said, and the strain in her voice made it break between syllables.
She cleared her throat to dispel any weakness. “It’s the only
answer I can give. The real question is, who the hell is she to
you!”

Her quick wit got the reaction she wanted. The
concentration lines along his brow deepened, and he focused
intently on the letter once more. She then knew he struggled with
the identity of this woman as she had for several hours before she
ventured out to find him. Marietta raised the gun from his face and
put both her hands up. In doing so, her breasts heaved upward, and
she saw that he noticed. If he wanted to kill her, now was his
chance. He however didn’t make an aggressive move. Possibly, this
was their truce.

“
Now it’s time for you to trust me.
I’m going to put this gun down. You be a good boy.
Capisce?
”
She lowered the gun and then tossed it far from their reach.
Marietta didn’t rise or make another move. What was the point? She
sat upon him exposed. Her breasts, her shame, all of it was on
display now. Nudity didn’t matter to her. Years of strip club
performances had made her numb to the lustful ways men viewed her
body. Tonight, the fight in her was gone. The truth was she needed
an ally. Lorenzo read the letter once more, as if a third time
would reveal something the first two hadn’t.

“
Does it hurt?” Marietta asked in a
shaky breath. She wiped smeared tears and mascara under her eyes.
His gaze shot back to her, and she was impaled by the flash of
distrust there.

“
Your eyes. Do they
burn?”

She lifted her hand and then lowered it. She
lifted it again and slowly reached to touch his face. She half
expected him to knock her touch away. After all, she had put a
beating on his face. There were three long scratches that stretched
from his jaw to his neck. And on his left cheek, a bruise formed
from a swift kick she delivered to his face. “I was defending
myself. You came at me like a madman. What was I supposed to do?”
He continued to stare. Marietta released a deep breath. “You should
be okay though, it was just hairspray. I’ve gotten it in my eyes
before.”

Lorenzo narrowed his gaze on her.

“
If you flush your eyes, it will
stop the burning. I can get you some water.” When she tried to
rise, he dropped the paper and grabbed her by the thighs, forcing
her back down. Pressing the limits of her virtue, she made no move
to object to where he had repositioned her—on top of his dick.
Between her thighs, pressed nicely up into her core, was his
bulging hardness caged beneath his zipper. Marietta’s breathing
began to slow. She remained still. If she moved, the friction would
stir arousal she couldn’t mask on her face. She waited. His hard,
strong hands became tender when he slowly rubbed her thigh, pushing
her hem to her hips. Her breasts rose sharply as she drew in a
breath. They stared at each other for what felt like an
eternity.

“
Baciami.”
She told him to
kiss her in a broken whisper. Their faces drew closer together and
she could feel the fine threads of his shirt brush her sensitive
nipples. His hands gripped her bare ass. She rarely wore panties,
and he soon discovered that secret.

“
You want a kiss, love?” He said,
his mouth inches from hers.

She blinked into his face.
“Desperately.”

He heaved her up. And she went forward on her
hands as he eased under her to bring her pussy flush to his mouth.
He licked her pussy with soft slow strokes. “Oh God!” She cried
out.

He blew on her labia, then parted her butt
cheeks to open her sex to him. He traced the tip of his tongue
around her slick opening before plunging it deep. She tossed her
head back with a startled cry of passion, arching her back and
sitting on his face. Pleasure cut her to her core. And it was over.
He dragged her down. “Now, about that kiss,” he said, gripping the
back of her head and forcing her mouth down to his. Her heart
quivered as their lips met. His kiss flowed through her sweet as
warm honey. The stone at the center of her heart crumpled. She
would settle for the sweet illusion of love that sex gave rather
than her empty reality.

“
You taste so good, but I prefer
your pussy.” Lorenzo rolled her beneath him. Deep breaths and
little gasps of air escaped her sweet mouth as he devoured her
through their kiss.

“
Please fuck me,” she begged
through the kiss.

“
I intend to.” To support his
weight and keep from crushing her beneath him, he balanced on his
elbows. How could someone so crazily fierce become soft and
vulnerable so easily?

Every emotion felt was primal and desperate.
He needed a release. He tore at her dress, ripping, shredding, as
she clawed at his zipper and belt to free him. They fought against
each other, both trying to accomplish the same goal.

Seized by an insatiable lust, Lorenzo drove
himself into her hard. He impaled her pussy before either of them
could rethink their actions. For the moment she would be his, and
his only. He’d leave her with no doubt. A sensual groan escaped her
throat, and her body responded with just as much fire as expected.
Hot wet warmth wrapped around his cock with her silken walls, and
he could feel the muscles from his ass to the back of his thighs
tighten. He broke contact with her lips to kiss her eyes, nose,
cheek, and the sweet smelling curve of her neck as he pumped his
cock hard and fast, in and out. He lifted his belly to look down to
where their bodies joined. She felt so damn good, he became a bit
light headed. But he maintained control, and she moved her ass and
pussy in time with his rhythm. He continued to drive himself deep.
Sweat broke out over her upper lip as he worked his hips at a
steady yet frenzied pace, and felt her body grow
feverish.

Lorenzo stayed the course with his hips
circling to keep pushing her to the edge, because he was already
dangerously close. And when all the soft sexy curves beneath him
became too much he dropped on her, and pounded his lust inside her
so fast she couldn’t match his thrusts. The burn of his eyes
cleared enough for him to look upon her face, twisted in pleasure.
Her midnight black hair fanned out in thick curls. Her eyes
squeezed shut. She clawed at his back and he winced, knowing those
damn nails of hers had once again broken skin.