The Devil's Justice

ANASTASIA:
We perched on one of the numerous restricted rooftops, a spot that seemed to be Lorenzo's secret refuge. He sat there, gazing at the sunset, his legs dangling over the rooftop's edge, lost in the mesmerizing hues of the sky as I walked in. 
"You know you shouldn't really be here," Lorenzo remarked without shifting his gaze my way. "You should leave while you still have the chance. Right now, I am not the right person you should be found with, Piccola."
There were a lot of things that needed clarification. 
"And yet I am here," I teased as I reached closer. "You said you want my help to understand what you are feeling. Are you backing up already?"
A chuckle escaped him. "I would never back up from you."
"Then why ask me to walk away?"
Lorenzo laughed, his voice carrying a mix of amusement and self-deprecation. "I didn't know you were so interested in helping a bastard like me."
I couldn't find an immediate response. Guilt from the library incident lingered, rendering me momentarily speechless.
Looking down, I whispered, "I-I am sorry..."
"You deserve a choice," he whispered back, cutting me off and I felt my heart flutter. There were indeed many facets to Lorenzo right before me. One moment he was possessive and a bit of a bad boy, another he was flirty and dirty and alluring playboy, and then this, he was soft, like those heroes who could sweep a heroine off her feet with a few carefully chosen words.
And perhaps, I was once again a fool to hang onto his every word.
But this wasn't a novel. This was my life. My choice.
"I'm not the kind of guy you might read about in books, Ana. I'm far from those perfect men who have everything polished and proper. People say I'm trouble. Mia's whore. I don't want you to regret your decision later on."
But I had already made up my mind and I knew there was no going back.
"You are not that," I said. After a pause, I ask him, "Is that why you couldn't kiss me that night? Because of what is your relationship with Mia?" I needed to know the actual story.
"I am a bastard. You heard what they said."
"I don't believe that," I argued. "Tell me what's really going on?"
This time, turning back to me, his clouded gaze met my vast ocean. "Would you believe? Really? After what happened in the library? Because as far as I remember, you said you wouldn't want anything with me after my reputation."
I exhaled a long breath. He was right. I treated him badly. I judged him without knowing his side of the story, and I was truly sorry about it. "Try me," I only whispered.
He chuckled, looking away from me again. "It wouldn't make any difference, Piccola."
"How would you know?"
"Because I know the look," he replied. "Sympathy? For something I truly don't deserve? They tricked me and my brother into going on a dare in Deen's room, and they made a video of Mark stealing from his office. Taking advantage of that situation, Mia asked me to be his personal whore. And maybe that's why I was sympathesized." He said, chuckling bitterly. "I know that look, Piccola."
His confession had shattered me. He had been blackmailed! Regret washed over me, and I could only sit back in silence.
"They called me names. They tried to get back at Mark, but I vowed to protect him as long as he..."
He doesn't deserve this. I have made my decision.
"You know that's not entirely true. You are not just sympathized." I said in a low voice. "You are worshipped for your looks, too."
"Is that only why you are here?"
"I don't really care about what people say," I countered. 
"You should," he responded, his gaze still fixed on the horizon. "Your friends... or your father, won't be pleased. I'm not someone like you."
"Lara wouldn't mind," I stated as I approached him, slowly drawing closer. "And as for my father... I believe he'd understand."
I settled into the seat beside him, closer to him, the cool evening breeze gently caressing my face. Lorenzo remained transfixed, his gaze locked onto the kaleidoscope sky. A faint trickle of blood adorned the corner of his lips, a reminder of the brawl that had unfolded just moments ago.
"You're staring at me again, Piccola," he remarked, his voice carrying a hint of amusement, even though he didn't turn to look at me. But this time I didn't tear my eyes away. I simply couldn't.
His striking visage bore the marks of the recent altercation—bruised and bloodied—yet his raw masculinity persisted, accentuated by the violence etched across his features. My eyes refused to avert, and without thinking, my hand instinctively moved toward his battered lips. He winced ever so slightly at my touch, and I quickly withdrew my hand. "I am sorry," I muttered.
Regret washing over me. Finally turning towards me, his clouded eyes held a subtle pain, for some reason, before turning away again. I wanted to share his pain. Wanted to tell him That I was there, for him. My heart ached at the sight of his blood staining his handsome face.
I failed all of them somehow. Today was a mistake. I knew that now, Mia, Oliver, and his team would be alert, and it would become almost impossible for us to crack the case. Maybe I hurried too much.
But right now, sitting beside Lorenzo, I made up my mind. I kept my hand on him, giving it a soft squeeze.
"I think I would like to stay."
He turned around to meet my gaze. "Remember, you made the choice, Piccola," he whispered in his deep, husky voice. A voice that held the depth of the ocean and promises of the stars.
Slowly, I felt his fingers envelop mine, guiding them to the very spot on his lips I had touched moments before. Our eyes locked midway, and an unspoken understanding enveloped us. His gaze pierced through me like a sword, etching a mark upon my heart, a scar that would remain forever.
"Does it hurt?" I asked gently, breaking the silence. He said nothing, nor did he look away. We merely sat there, enveloped in our own world. Our eyes communicated what words could not. Our breaths intertwined, and we drew closer, noses nearly touching, eyes closed, seeking the profound connection we shared, until...
A TING sound popped, a message from David. Which for now, I ignored. I frowned.
"Uhm..." I cleared my throat, regaining my composure, and tearing my gaze away from him. I heard him sigh with the loss of my warmth. His eyes kept closed, seemingly frustrated. "I think it's getting quite late, isn't it?"
A small chuckle came to my ears. "Yeah," he agreed as he stood up with a sigh, and I followed suit. "Come on, I'll drop you."
We had shared kisses before and grown intimate, but today was different. Today was special. Today was about us. Just us, standing together against the world. In our truest form, where only our hearts served as guides. So today, we wouldn't rush.
Today, I would allow the intimacy of our souls to bridge the gap that had always existed between us. Because today, I wanted him as Lorenzo Jonas, not just the college bad boy displaying his playboy side.
I may be crazy but I longed for our masks to be cast aside. When we gazed into each other's eyes, I desired to find nothing but pure love.
No guilt. No sorrow. No regret. 
I hesitated for a moment before gently suggesting, "I think you should get some first aid done first. It's not a good idea to leave those wounds open."
****
We entered the nurse's room, and since it was late, the nurses had already left. I frantically struggled to locate the medicine for Lorenzo. But thankfully he was well aware of the place. 
"Just get the ointment from the right shelf," he suggested.
I didn't waste any time and grabbed the medicine. With gentle care, I helped him apply it using a cotton bud. He hissed as soon as the ointment made contact with his bruised skin. I knew it stung.
"Hold on, it's almost done," I reassured him as I carefully tended to his wounds. His big 6ft2 figure surprisingly adjusted in that small hospital bed. As crazy as it sounds, in a situation like this, it's also tempting to watch.
It was utterly fascinating to witness the transformation of the big, bad boy as he cozied up beside me, allowing me to carefully apply the medicine. It was almost unbelievable, but it was undeniably true.
But what made it insufferable for me was that, throughout the session, I could feel his eyes lingering on me. A burning gaze that seemed to penetrate my skin and reach deep into my soul. With each dip of the cotton bud on his bruises, his gaze never wavered, and the tension in the room grew palpable. He never looked away.
"Now you're staring at me," I said, almost whispering.
He chuckled softly, "I'm just returning the favour, piccola."
I looked up, completing my task. "All done," I replied, setting the medicine aside and cleaning his wound. "I guess now we can head back home."
As I began to turn away, he suddenly took me by the wrist and pulled me toward his chest. I collided with his solid frame, and I couldn't help but gasp. "Lorenzo," I whispered, my heart racing like a wild horse experiencing this closeness as I stared into his eyes.
His eyes. His eyes, dark and intense, held a smouldering desire that sent electric shockwaves through mine.
It was a moment that would leave an indelible mark, something I would never fully recover from, no matter how many times I relived it.
"I think I should pay you back, shouldn't I?" he asked. 
His dark onyx orbs delved into my cerulean ocean, it was as if the night sky had met the deep blue ocean once again, and in that moment, the dam holding back burst.
His lips met mine with such gentle intensity that I feared losing my mind to the sensation. He playfully nibbled on my lower lip, pulling it softly between his own. His hand tenderly cradled my waist, fingers tracing my spine, igniting sensations that left me arching with overwhelming desire.
I surrendered to the moment. My hands instinctively wrapped around his neck, drawing him closer for a deeper kiss. I knew then that I would never be able to walk away from him now.
It was our destiny.
He straddled me in his lap as our passionate kisses continued. My legs wrapped around his waist for support. His hand slipped beneath the hem of my sundress, the coolness of his touch sending shivers through me and kindling the fire of our desire.
Our breaths mingled. Our tongues danced as we explored each other. Our connection deepens with every heartbeat. After some time, I reluctantly pulled away from our kiss, gasping for breath, only for him to seize the soft flesh of my neck, planting another fiery mark. His marks. His lips traced a scorching trail from my jaw to my neck, then to my earlobe and back to my lips.
Fuck.
The intensity was almost too much to bear like I was the moth and he was the flame.
"Lorenzo... Ahhh," I moaned, my voice trembling with desire as soon as his teeth glazed on my skin putting me on fire. And then licking the sting away coating it with pleasure.
I could feel him getting hard from underneath his clothes. He pressed me more only to grind on him.
His cool hand crept under my dress caressing my back, pulling me closer until our breaths were indistinguishable. The strength of the kiss was so profound that I felt as if I might lose myself in him entirely. Perhaps his claim on my very existence would become a reality.
In the blink of an eye, he had me flipped onto my back. His imposing frame loomed over me. He nestled himself in between my legs as we watched me so slowly as if he was drinking me with his eyes. His hand trailed along the apex of my thighs, leaving chills down my skin. His head dropped to leave a trail of lingering kisses in its wake. My pussy pulsed with a throbbing need that threatened to push me over the edge.
"Tell me you're mine," he demanded, his fingers finally sliding through the drenched fabric. I arched back, giving him more access to me than what he already had. I longed for him, yearned for him inside of me. My desire overwhelmed me, but he held back. "Tell me," he commanded once more. "Tell me to whom you belong before I claim you as mine."
"You," I whispered, my voice trembling, as his skilled fingers finally penetrated me. Two at a time.
Too much. Too much.
"Ahh," I moaned, grateful that the campus was already deserted, with no one to witness the intensity of our passion. Not that I would have complained or stopped if anyone had seen us. My hands clutched the sheet eyes snapped shut. Just felt him as he guided me.
"Mine," he growled as he pushed deeper, his knuckles hitting the entrance of my cunt.
He leaned in to capture my lips once more, his fingers continuing to thrust into me. His tongue tasted me as his finger teased me. I may have lost my mind, for I saw nothing beyond him and felt nothing but his touch.
With my dress straps held firmly in his teeth, he pulled them down from my shoulders and showered a few kisses there, his fingers still working their magic inside me.
"Lorenzo..." I gasped, my voice quivering.
"That's right, baby. Feel it," he purred. "Feel my fingers deep inside you. Embrace the sensation," he said, his sultry words further igniting my desire. His fingers thrusting intensified, drawing another lustful moan from me.
"Now that I've claimed you as mine, piccola. You belong to me now, and I'm going to fill you like this, forever," he whispered. "There's no escape."
His lips trailed down my collarbone, and his other hand grabbed my tits, giving them a hard squeeze. "Ahhh..." I moaned. 
The momentary discomfort gave way to a sharp gasp when he swiftly pulled down my dress and his tongue swirled around my nipples, causing me to arch back in an overwhelming wave of sensation. His teeth teased my erected bud. He nibbled it, licked it, kissed it, pulled it and I lost my mind.
"Lorenzo..." I struggled to maintain control, my climax rapidly approaching. His fingers curled further to explore that tender spot, and finally, I released a sharp cry of pleasure, surrendering to the bliss of the moment.
My breath lowered, sloppy as I held his muscular arms for support. My mind had already been blown away by the amazing orgasm I just had.
Feeling utterly spent, I slumped backwards, my gaze fluttering on Lorenzo's satisfied smile as he sensually licked his fingers, savouring my essence. Licking his finger clean which was still wet with my cum.
It was... 
Hot!
I caught a glimpse of the prominent bulge in his pants, but exhaustion overcame me, and my eyelids began to droop as I drifted off.
****
It was almost eight when he dropped me off at home on his bike. It was only my third ride, but I was already falling for the adrenaline rush. No one uttered a single word. I am thankful to him for that, as I was too shy to say anything right now.
After parking just outside the mansion, he quietly said, "Thank you."
I looked up at him, handing over the helmet, my brow furrowing. "What for?"
"For choosing me. For standing up for innocent people, Piccola."
I understood his meaning and smiled at him. "I know what it's like to be bullied, to get picked on. I've suffered it," I began. For some reason, I wanted to share everything about myself with him, just as I wanted him to do the same. There was a silent connection forming between us. "When my mother..." My voice trailed off, and I swallowed hard to dispel the lump in my throat. "When my mother disappeared suddenly, I was bullied in school. That's the reason I ran away from this place."
Lorenzo listened patiently, his gaze never wavering. "What made you come back?"
My eyes shot up to meet his, and I replied, "To find the truth."
A/N: THAT WAS HOT!!!
But I wonder what the Devil will do now? To know, stay tuned. Follow my Instagram @Only_Rusert to get a pre-cap of the next chapter. See ya next week.