Page 108 of Broken Deal

“How did you do this?” I laugh, the sound catching in my throat as tears threaten to well.

“Matteo helped me, because I suck at stuff like this. You’ll notice the messed-up ones—those are mine.” He laughs.

“Then those will be my favorites,” I say, beaming at him, meaning every single word.

His brown eyes soften, and a blush creeps onto his cheeks. His shy smile makes my heart skip a beat. “It’s stupid. I don’t even know why I did this.”

I throw my arms around him, hugging him tight and kissing his cheek. “Because you like me,” I tease.

He lets out a hearty laugh, kissing the top of my head. “I thinklikeis too little of a word.”

A smile that makes my cheeks hurt tugs at my lips. “Yeah?”

He nods, his grip on my waist tightening slightly. “I more than like you, Blue.”

He doesn’t need to say it out loud. It’s all in his eyes—the love, adoration, and deep wanting radiating from him. In such a short period of time, Lorenzo has become my constant. The one who, without even trying, makes me feel seen, safe, and cherished in ways I never thought possible. He’s become the person who knows me in ways no one ever has.

“I more than like you, too, Ace,” I whisper, the words filled with a weight of certainty as I keep my gaze locked on his, my heart pounding hard in my chest. We don’t need grand declarations—everything we feel is there, in the unspoken language of our shared smiles, touches, and glances.

And for me, that’s more than enough. If there’s something I’ve learned throughout my life, it’s that trust isnothing without proof and love is nothing without action. In his arms, I found a home and the warmth I knew deep down I always wanted but never looked for because I never felt…worthy.

His lips find mine in a soft brush at first, teasing, almost hesitant, like he’s savoring the moment before fully sealing our mouths. It sends a rush of heat through me, and I can feel my pulse pounding in my ears. His kiss becomes both tender and hungry, and I melt into it. When his tongue glides along the seam of my lips, it’s slow, deliberate, asking for permission but with a quiet demand. I part my lips, giving in without hesitation. The taste of him, mixed with the faint hint of champagne still on my tongue, fills my senses, and I moan softly against his mouth. His hand tightens on my waist, pulling me closer, and I feel like I could drown in this moment—his touch, his kiss, the way he holds me like I’m something precious. It’s overwhelming—the intensity of it and the way he consumes me so effortlessly.

“We should stay in,” he says, dropping soft, peppering kisses from my mouth all the way down to my neck. The feel of his lips against my skin makes me an instant puddle, aching with need.

I laugh, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. “Aria will be pissed.”

His lips keep delivering soft, intoxicating kisses from the column of my neck to my shoulder as he breathes me in. “They’ll be fine without us.” His hand trails over the curve of my breast through my dress, and the simple touch sends a shiver through me, a moan escaping my lips.

“Fuck it,” I mutter, pushing him onto the bed with a swift motion. Straddling him, I crash our lips together in a deep, desperate kiss. The guttural sound that escapes himmakes my thighs tighten around him, and I press into him, deepening the kiss. We bite, nip, and explore every corner of each other’s mouths, my fingers fumbling clumsily with his shirt buttons. After my third failed attempt, frustration kicks in, and I grab the fabric in both fists, ripping it open. Buttons fly in every direction, but we’re too consumed to care.

His hands roam my body, tracing from the curve of my breasts to my hips before he finds the hem of my dress and lifts it, leaving me in nothing but my lacy, blue underwear. His gaze darkens as it sweeps over me, taking in every inch.

“Did you wear this for me?” His voice is low and musky.

I shrug, a sheepish smile playing on my lips. “Yes.”

He bites his lip, shaking his head slightly. “God, you’re so incredibly beautiful.”

The sincerity in his voice always gets me. And it’s not just the words; it’s how he touches me, how he holds me. His appreciation, his need, his want—it radiates through every caress, every look.

Before I can respond, Lorenzo flips us effortlessly, spreading me out beneath him. My hands immediately move to his belt, working quickly to rid him of his pants, and within moments, he’s down to his boxer briefs.

His palm glides over my skin, fingers trailing delicate, feathery touches that leave me aching for more. Each kiss he plants on my body feels like fire, igniting everywhere his lips touch. When his hand reaches my inner thighs, I’m already on edge and in desperate need for his touch. I crave it all—his dirty, praising words, the way he worships me with every look, every move.

I lift my hips slightly as he slides my underwear down my legs, leaving me bare and exposed to him. My thighs instinctively clench at the way he licks his bottom lip,leaving a trail of moisture behind as he drinks me in. Without breaking eye contact, I sit and reach for the clasp of my bra, unhooking it, and let it fall to the ground.

He hovers over me with careful precision, making sure not to put his weight on me. His mouth finds one of my peaked, sensitive nipples, teasing it with slow, taunting circles with his tongue while his fingers roll the other between them, sending jolts of pleasure through me. I arch my back, seeking more friction, the sensations overwhelming, every touch toe-curling, making me crave more of him.

My fingers tangle in his hair, silently begging him to never stop. His touch leaves my nipple, a small whimper bubbling out of me at the miss of his touch. Lorenzo’s fingers brush against my sensitive clit in slow, torturous circles, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me. The sound of my moans fills the room, mingling with the slick, wet noises of every teasing touch he gives me. He flicks my nipple with his tongue playfully, smirking as he takes in my writhing body beneath him.

“Mmm, look at you,” he murmurs. “So wet and ready for me. What do you need from me, baby?” he asks, his voice so deep and husky I can’t help but moan.

“I need you,” I reply breathlessly. “All of you.”

My fingers slide down from his hair, trailing along his neck and shoulders, tracing the familiar patterns of his tattoos. I’ll never grow tired of this—of memorizing the ink on his skin, of touching him like he’s mine and mine alone.

Lorenzo’s fingers trail over my center, his touch slow and torturous, gathering my slickness with each stroke. His finger brushes my bottom lip, smearing my arousal across it. He watches me intently, his gaze dark and full of intent as his breath grazes my skin until his lips claim mine, histongue licking away the taste of me. He lets out an appreciative, satisfied groan before moving to my ear.

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