All Yours

XXX

AURORA

Fuck. I'm really starting to get lightheaded. I thought the walk up both stairs to his bedroom wouldn't take that long, but Lorenzo is taking his sweet time, and my head's starting to spin. Each deliberate step he takes reverberates through me—slow, steady, controlled. I can feel the tension thickening in the air, pulling tighter with every second. The anticipation is intoxicating.

Over his shoulder, I catch glimpses of his back, the taut muscles with every step. I swear he's doing this on purpose, dragging out the moment just to tease me. His grip on the back of my thighs is firm but not bruising, and I can feel the heat radiating from his palms onto my bare skin.

I feel so exposed to just my undergarments providing me the slightest bit of modesty.

"Lorenzo," I groan, half in exasperation and half in need. My voice sounds breathy to my own ears, and I'm sure he can sense my impatience.

"Patience, dove," he replies, his tone smooth but laced with amusement. "You're going to need it."

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, we reach his bedroom. He pauses at the threshold, shifting me slightly so that I can feel the strength in his arms. I glance up at his face, catching a devilish smirk tugging at his lips. He looks at me like he's already won like he knows exactly what's running through my mind and plans to use it against me.

"Ready?" he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. I nod, barely able to form a coherent thought.

With a flick of his wrist, he pushes the door open and carries me inside. The room is dimly lit, the warm golden glow from the bedside lamps casting soft shadows on the walls. The atmosphere feels heavy and charged as if the room itself is bracing for what's about to unfold.

He sets me down gently, my feet barely brushing the plush rug before my back is pressed firmly against the door. The soft thud of it closing behind me sends a jolt through my body, and I feel my breath hitch as his chest presses against mine. His hands slide up my arms, pinning my wrists above my head, and the heat of his touch sends shivers down my spine.

For a moment, he just stares at me, his dark eyes roaming over my face like he's memorizing every detail. The intensity of his gaze is almost too much to bear, and I find myself looking away, my cheeks flushing. He leans in, his breath ghosting over my ear, and whispers, "Don't look away, darling. I want to see you."

I force myself to meet his eyes, and the raw desire I see there takes my breath away. He's so close, his scent—clean, masculine, with a hint of spice—surrounding me and making it impossible to think clearly.

He doesn't waste any more time. His lips crash against mine, hungry and demanding, and I feel myself melting into the kiss. His hands slide down my sides, gripping my waist and pulling me closer. The weight of his body pressing against mine is intoxicating, and I can feel every hard line of him through his clothes.

He pulls back just enough to speak, his lips brushing against mine as he whispers, "Do you have any idea how long I've wanted this? Wanted you like this?"

I barely have time to respond before his mouth is on mine again, this time softer, slower, but no less consuming. His tongue slides against mine, and I can't help the small moan that escapes my lips. He swallows the sound greedily, his hands wandering lower to grip my thighs.

Without breaking the kiss, he lifts me effortlessly, and my legs instinctively wrap around his waist. The door presses into my back as he holds me there, his mouth moving from my lips to the sensitive skin of my neck. He nips at my collarbone, his teeth grazing just enough to send sparks through my body, and I gasp, my fingers threading through his hair.