The date has been set.

A week from today.

It's a new type of revelation to have a knowledge of how much longer I have on this planet. Seven days. Only so many hours left in my last week, and Lorenzo demands to train me. The odds aren't incredibly in my favor, but death beats sticking around with Damien. I vote for going head first.

Who needs training?

I say, let the odds be in our favor.

I've faced death plenty of times — what's another one?

Confusion washes over me at the metal chain wrapped around the gym's entrance. Did Jota make a wrong turn or something? It's bad enough that Lorenzo rented a gym in the sketchiest part of town.

Shrugging, I press my shoulder against the door, scraping the metal door against the ground. My face cringes from the frequency of the sound. The yellow-tint lightbulbs flicker in the open space as if it's about to shut off any second now. The aroma of dust and sweat consumes my nose. Blue benches rest against the raised boxing ring in the center of the room. There are black-color ropes spread around the room like a train route, plus one attached to the ceiling to climb.

On my walk through the room, I almost slam into a beaten-down, blue punching bag, dust flying off from my light tap against it. I cough, slapping the particles away from my face. My eyes widen at the sight of a lengthy bucket filled to the tippy-top with water. I wonder what that is for-- water breaks?

"Is the Jefe in the making ready for day one?" Lorenzo announces, walking into the light with arms extended for a hug. The faint illumination does wonders to obscure his sculptured body. Someone get this man a t-shirt. "Sorry, I'm a bit sweaty. I got a head-start while I waited for your lazy ass to get out of bed."

Lorenzo presses a quick kiss on my cheek.

I groan. "The only place my ass should be is in bed. I wasn't made to work out. I get tired after two flights of stairs."

He plops onto the bench, resting his legs on opposite sides of the beams. "I'm digging the confidence, love, but you're up against stiff competition. Did you drink the protein shake I left you?"

My stomach churns. "Yeah, it tasted like complete shit. How do you enjoy drinking that?"

Lorenzo leans back on his forearms, emphasizing the tone eight pack he has as a stomach. "Beauty is pain, love."

I force a fake smile. "Good thing I'm already beautiful."

Lorenzo turns slightly, hiding his smile as he drags his palm down his face. "You got me there. But the protein shake is for your muscle gains. You need more muscle on those bones."

A burst of irritation shoots through me. "Listen, I don't need your input on my body. I get enough from your brother."

His eyebrows knit in confusion. "You're misinterpreting me. Muscle defines your body." He stalks over to me, his hand snaking around my waist, and yanks me closer to him. My chest tightens. "How stupid would I be to change your body? If it wasn't obvious, I'm crazy about it." My breath hitches as he glides his finger up the slope of my hip. "My job is to increase your strength."

Lorenzo backs away, taking the warmness with him as contact is lost. "Drop and give me twenty."

I blink. "Twenty what?"

He deadpans. "Push-ups, what else?"

I raise my eyebrows. "I hate to burst your bubble, but I don't know how to do a push-up."

His mouth tumbles open. "You got to be joking. What about in school? It's involved in the health check-ups."

I shake my head. "Homeschooled, remember? My father wouldn't even let me play outside. It's improper for the Princess of the familia to get her face covered in dirt."

Lorenzo sighs, gliding his fingers through his chaotic locks. "Remind me to kill your father again when I see him in hell." He pauses, deep in a train of thought. "So, sit-ups are out of the picture too?"

I bob my head. "That's like rising up from bed, right?"

He falters for a second. "You could say that. Okay, you know what... what can you do?"

My lips pucker up in a pout as I recall my biggest strength in the gym department. "I can do a split."

He chuckles. "Ahh, I'll make sure to try that out when we fuck tonight." Lorenzo's full lips curl into a smirk as he bends down. "Alright. Get on all fours in a plank like this."

He demonstrates this by springing onto his hands and scraping his foot to slide back. I suck in a breath and copy his movements, leaving an inch between our bodies. My core aches within seconds, and I'm in awe of how Lorenzo hasn't broken a sweat. How out of shape am I?

He sinks lower, his elbows pressing against his core, inhaling a deep breath before releasing it as he returns to the first position. Lorenzo repeats the demonstration until I reach the number one hundred in my head.

"Easy, right?"

I swallow a lump down my throat. "Sure..."

"It's your turn." Lorenzo plops to his side, resting his head in his hand to observe my entire length. "Don't forget to breathe in when you go down and breathe out when you go back into a plank."

"O-Okay."

My arms shake as I lower myself closer to the ground. My breathing is uneven, coming out in bursts as I force all my strength to raise my body into a plank. Sweat trickles into my eyes, distracting me as I use one hand to wipe them out of my face and collapse from bearing all the weight on my other hand.

I gasp for air. "T-That was a-ww-ful."

His laughter fills my ears. "Not bad for your first attempt, but you forgot about the breathing. And don't face front when going down-- it strains your neck." Starting from my head to my legs, he sweeps his palm over them. "Make sure your body stays in a straight line. Go again."

I whine. "Again? I don't think I have enough strength for another one."

"Well, that sucks," Lorenzo says, sitting up and swatting the floor particles from his palms. "Because we aren't leaving until you can do a hundred. In. A. Row."

My eyes bulge from their sockets. "Well, I hope you brought your sleeping bag because we're going to be here all night."

Lorenzo takes a drag from his water bottle. "Quit whining and start doing push-ups. This is your time to prove everyone wrong-- put some fucking effort into it."

My eyes roll back to another galaxy. He's right. Eliminador is my only chance to show my familia why I'm made to be Jefe, even if I don't fully believe it. If I fake enough confidence, I'm sure to gain some. Manifest it to a reality.

Blowing out a breath, I mount into a plank and lower my body into a push-up, straining my arms. Again, and again, and again. My black-snitched sports bra and booty shoulders are drenched in sweat, pitter-pattering on the ground like rain. Keep pushing through. Don't give up. While readjusting my form, I lose my footing and slip on the puddle of sweat beneath me, thudding to the ground.

I want to cry.

Lorenzo bangs his hands together in three short claps. "Forty-two. What an improvement from your first try. Pick yourself back up, Isabela. You're much stronger than you think."

"I hate you so much right now," I say through gritted teeth as I begin again.

"Love. Hate. Deep down, it's the same feeling," Lorenzo says, observing me with silt eyes.

Here we go again.

I close my eyes this time, hoping it will somehow help. My breathing is strained as I drive myself into a plank. With the senses of my eyes temporarily down, I focus on what my ears and nose have to offer. The ruffling of footsteps walking around me alerts my attention, but I don't want to start over again, so I ignore it.

I also ignore the thump on the ground, causing a gust of wind to splash my face. It's somewhat refreshing against the sweat trickling down my face. This time when I decline into a push-up, a warm exhale trickles my face. What the?

My eyes burst open to find Lorenzo's face underneath mine, facing the opposite direction, yet he scooted his body far enough for our lips to be an inch apart. I jerk back from the unexpected jump scare and lose my freaking balance once again. My forehead bangs against the edge of his jawline and spats flat on his rock-hard chest.

I lay on his chest because of pure exhaustion.

But then, I feel a boiling, heated blow on my breasts. Like a real-life horror movie, I move in slow-motion, practically asking for the demon to kill me. Spurts of fire shoot up my arm as I constrain my muscle by propelling myself to sit up. Blood floods to my face when my entire frame sits up, realizing my breasts are in Lorenzo's face.

"What the heck are you doing?"

He fights the urge to smile. "Me? I didn't do anything. You fell on me. I was just a helpless man with tits in his face-- how could I refuse? It's every man's dream."

Groaning in pure irritation, I smack his shoulder. "I fell because you appeared under me like a ghost. This is not fair! Now, I have to start all over again because you wanted to play games. Move. Now!"

He shakes his head. "You aren't going low enough." I gasp when his thumb grazes over my chin, urging our faces to be a centimeter apart. Panting, I avert my gaze to the ground, refusing to look into his eyes. "Start again, and go down until we're this far apart... then you will be doing a push-up correctly."

I chew on the inside of my cheek, giving him a little shake of my head, and he lets go. He's making this experience completely unbearable. As if aching limbs weren't enough-- now, I'll have to stare him dead in the eye every time I go down.

"You have a death wish," I mutter, emotionally and physically preparing myself for this.

With a mischievous grin, he says, "Or maybe I just want a kiss for all my hard work."

I burst into laughter. "Hard work? Your ass is just lying there."

He lets out a little grunt as he holds his head in his palms, extending his arms like a bird's wings. "Believe it or not, it's hard work being this attractive."

My eyes narrow. "Just stop talking so I can take us out of our misery."

His chuckles come out deep, lengthy, and raspy. "I'm having a great time, Bella-boo. I'm noticing things about you that I never have before, like the mole on your right tit."

If he keeps this going, I will have to admit myself into a psych-ward-- because I refuse to believe I'm sane if I don't despise his humor. What can I say-- he's growing on me-- it's probably because we've been attached to the hip for over a week. We never had the chance to be in each other's companies before. I was too entangled in Julian's orbit to notice anyone else. I'm clinically insane anyway, so why not add Lorenzo to the list of things wrong with me?

My skin scorches with sweat and embarrassment. I feel Lorenzo's eyes stuck to me like glue. It's making this entire process a hundred times harder. Can he kindly fuck off? Whatever. I'm halfway there. I hope he likes the taste of my sweat.

Stupid bastard.

"Not low enough, Isabela." Under the heat of his dark stare, I repress my breathing as I drop down, our lips a few inches apart. "A little bit lower, Isabela." I grit my teeth in pure exasperation, squinting my eyes shut in pain as I drop a few inches more. God, this hurts. "Perfect. Do it just like that every time."

Since when did I become a dog?

Sweat falls from my chin. I swallow, but it's gruesome with the lack of moisture in my mouth. Don't quit. This is the closest I've been to one hundred. Just ten more. My heart slams against my chest, breathing a chaotic mess as I struggle to focus. I'm so close to the finishing line-- I can taste it.

"You're doing amazing." His blue eyes, smiling. "Good girl."

Jesus Christ! There's nothing dirty about this exchange, yet that's where my head goes first. My hands dig into the floor, bearing most of my weight while I give my arms a quick break before propelling upward to my final push-up.

I fall sideways, collapsing onto my back. "I did it!"

Every single muscle aches. My throat burns as I try to level out my breathing. Sweat engulfs my body as I lie in my own puddle. Whoever invented push-ups hated themselves.

The fluorescent lights disappear, blocked by Lorenzo's broad shoulders, peering down at me with a cunning glint in his blue irises. Suddenly, my body is ambushed by two bottles of freezing cold water.

It's oddly refreshing, but I scream anyway, "What the heck, Lorenzo?"

"Don't pretend like you don't like it," he drawls, tilting his head towards the corner. "There's more over there in the buckets."

My gym attire squeaks as I lift myself from the floor, further dampening the concrete ground. My nipples stiffen into peaks, coming through my sports bra. The long, blue bin of water looks clean enough to my eyes, but I doubt anyone changes this shit. Hopefully, I don't get sick. That's the last thing I need on the verge of this competition.

Exhaling a weary breath, I lean forward and brush my fingertips through the cold water in a circle. Imaginary ships are going through a storm, which is my hand. Losing myself to the water, I hum a random, soulful song as I lower my face to get water into my mouth. The first sip is going to feel like heaven.

I swallow the water, my eyes fluttering shut in pure bliss.

A sharp gasp leaves my lips, swallowing a large chunk of water, when a hand grips the nape of my neck, shoving my face into the water. I try to jump back, my bottom bumping into the body behind me. Who can it be? Lorenzo? Is he trying to kill me? I thought we were friends.

Heart in my throat, I gasp, forcing my face out of the water for a second. "Lore-?"

Adrenaline ignites in my veins as I frail around, slapping my hands against the water. An alarm rings in the back of my head when his hand tightens around my neck, depleting my need for oxygen. A whimper breaks through the constrictive grip on my neck, and my hands fly to his, clawing at them to release me.

I don't understand.

What did I do to deserve this? I'm doing everything he wanted. Did he figure out what I plan to do afterward? The only person I shared my true intentions with was my abuela. She wouldn't sell me, would she?

Terror constricts my chest.

No.

No.

No.

I'm not going to let him kill me.

Fighting like my life depends on it because my life fucking does rely on it, I lift my leg and kick his thigh. My eyes open, noticing the bubbles of my screams in the water. I desperately thrash against him, hoping I gained enough muscle weight in one day to combat against his. My heart is beating erratically, and I slow down.

My movements get slower.

My fight dies out like snuffing a fire.

My vision begins to blacken.

Guess I'm going to hell.

I suck in a harsh breath, my eyes wide with hysteria. Water flees my lungs, spilling onto the floor as I hurl it like a possessed body, vomiting the black goo from the demon. Precious oxygen wafts through my nostrils. My restless eyes scan the area-- the underground gym.

"Thank God!" Lorenzo says, sporting a smile. "I almost thought you were dead."

His muscular arms are marred with bloody scratches along with his face. He did this to me. My eyes widen, backing away from this psychopath until my back presses against the wall.

"What the hell!" I wheeze, my voice hoarse and strained.

Lorenzo lifts his hands in front of his chest. "Just let me explain."

A sob burst through my throat, tears streaming down my face and mixing with the water dripping down my face from my soaked hair. "What do you mean, let you explain. You just try to fucking kill me!"

"No! No!" Lorenzo pleas, dragging his palm down his face. "Not exactly. Remember when you told me the first round of Eliminador is breaking a code underwater?"

"And?"

His lips flatten. "I wanted to see how long you can hold your breath."

You. Got. To. Be. Fucking. Kidding. Me.

I tighten my lips and say, "So, you thought almost killing me was the way to go?"

Regret washes over his features. "It was never my intention to kill you, Isabela. I tried calming you down, but you were a very persistent fighter. Just look at my neck."

"Did it ever pass your mind to mmm? I don't know, maybe I'm freaking out because I think I'm about to die?" I say with exasperation.

"Yeah, but I got distracted." He shrugs with a sly smirk on his face. "Killing turns me on."

Of course, it does.

Can someone please bash Lorenzo upside the head with a fucking hammer! Maybe then he wouldn't be a lunatic trying to kill me. My heart is finally slowing its pace. When is the earliest time a person can have a heart attack because all Lorenzo does is add to my stress levels?

He clears his throat. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, you lasted for over a minute. If you want any likelihood of passing the first round, you have to double it."

My eyebrows knit together. "So, how do I do that, Mr. Psycho killer?"

Lorenzo creeps closer, extracting the towel from his shoulders and dabbing it on my face and hair. It's almost intimate. A significant shift from his murder attempt earlier in the day, but I accept it.

Every individual organ, muscle, and vein throbs from exhaustion from my exercises. If Lorenzo wants to dry me up-- who am I to stop him? He nuzzles the white towel over my head, rubbing against my hair and spraying water everywhere. Our eyes clash insane, rich blue and copper, brown irises, another soul awake to befriend mine.

He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing. "By dunking your head in the water until you can't breathe anymore. It's the only way to train it. It's important for you to learn to walk with the fear, not fight against it. Being calm is what saves you."

Every breath pains my lungs, burning from the water in it. I don't think I have a fair chance of practicing holding my breath when it's already damaged, but I doubt Lorenzo will let me leave. A coughing frenzy breaks through, ripping my throat in half, and Lorenzo strokes my backside.

The crease between his brows deepens. "Are you done?"

My mouth pops open. "What? Is my choking bothering you?

The audacity! I'm half-tempted to practice my punching skills on Lorenzo's face. He hoists to his full length, lowering a hand to help me up, but all I want to do is slap it away. I breeze past him, thumping our shoulders against each other as I stand in front of the bucket.

"Let's get this over with," I say, crossing my arms over my chest. "But please, if I'm forcing myself up for air, let me up."

His chin tips over his shoulder. "I promise. I'll start the timer once your entire head is submerged in the water."

Slowly, Lorenzo tips my face closer and closer to the water like a rollercoaster about to reach the edge of the hill. My heart picks up momentum as I hope Lorenzo keeps his promise and lets me up when I can't anymore.

The coolness of the water causes my body to jerk backward, stunned by the sheer coldness-- sweet oxygen replaced by the chilliness. My eyes spring open, adjusting to the blurriness of the water. The pretty pink nail polish stands out against the darkness within the bucket, swaying ripples into the calm water.

My mind wanders.

I think it's the only sane way to keep me from freaking out.

Somewhere rural, secluded from everyone. A lady with long, curly black locks in a flowy spring dress stalks through the meadow, admiring the greens around her. Her hair shields her diamond-shaped face from the wind. Seconds drag, her face stays hidden behind her hair.

After what feels like decades, her hair moves away, revealing someone familiar to me-- mom? I can't even be sure. It's hard to remember how she looks these days.

My throat is closing, and I'm coughing, inhaling a pound of water as I'm being pulled from the meadow. The scenery fades to black as I feel the draft of the wind on my face, slumping onto a hard surface behind me.

Trembling, I gasp for air as I heave loudly, my entire chest burning like an overcooked pancake. My breath shortens further, and my lungs reduce to bagpipes, compressing and decompressing. Lorenzo grabs my chin. His sapphire eyes cut through me with worry, observing me.

He scarcely smiles. "You made it to a minute and a half."

Tightening my lips into a strained smile, I say, "Yeepie! Are we done for the day?"

He flashes a crooked grin. "We got one more thing to train before you can rest for the remainder of the day."

Collapsing to the ground, I groan, "I feel like I'm on the verge of death!"

He snickers. "And you said I was the dramatic one."

A high-pitch yelp escapes my throat. "You try being almost drowned to death and come back to me!"

His gaze sharpens. "I accept your challenge."

Lorenzo chuckles deep in his throat, stalking to the water tunnel of doom, and winks at me. "Are you going to come over to make sure I'm not cheating?"

With narrow eyes, I shift over to him, standing behind him. Lorenzo uses his hat to wet his frame with water before plopping it on his head. A bit of water sprinkles onto me, but I'm already drenched from head to toe. He's shirtless in front of me, his muscle peeking through the lack of body fat on his body. Water droplets drip down the contour of his back. My eyes widen at the sight of red-scratch marks on his back-- when does he find the time to fuck, especially when he's staying at my house?

I sigh. "Hands behind your back."

He turns to me, searing me beneath his scorching stare. "Isabela!" He dramatically gasps. "I would have never pegged you for a girl into bondage. So small... petite... easy to break."

I scoff. "Are you done with all the flirting?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. I'm kind of having fun." My hands ball into tight fists by my waist before grabbing him by the neck and forcing his face closer to the water. "Woah, so rough. I'm learning a lot of new things about you, Bella-boo."

"I'm tired of you," I mutter beneath my breath as I shove his face into the water.

He tries to protest, but the water muffled his sentence.

Ahh.

Finally, peace and quiet.

The overflow of frustration melts away like an ice cream cone on a boiling hot summer day. After almost getting killed, my patience has worn very thin. My foot taps in harmony with the numbers I'm counting. Damn. Maybe I should've asked for the stopwatch to compare our time and bully him if I won, but oh well.

Bubbles drift up to the surface.

He combats against my force on his neck.

Should I make him suffer to call it fair? I vote yes! He's thrashing against my strength on his neck and arms, fighting to overdominant one. Lorenzo might've been technically more powerful, but I had a lot of internal anger.

Then Lorenzo digs his nails into my wrist, causing a yelp to slip from my lips and loosen my grip enough for him to gain the upper hand. He harshly pushes me away, causing me to stumble and land on my ass, a sharp breath falls from my lungs.

"That's what you get."

He pinches his eyes, dragging his hand down his face, ridding himself of the water. "It's a good thing you're pretty."

My eyebrows arch in response. "Why's that?"

Lorenzo moves so fast; he's practically the Flash. His hand wraps around my wrist, and he's rolling on top of me while his other hand is around my throat, squeezing tightly. I try to take a swing at him, trying to slap him across the face, but fail miserably. He's so much stronger than me-- it's not fair.

God, if I'm losing to Lorenzo now, then I have no shot in the games.

He snatches my wrists, forcing them above my head, the both of us panting heavily. "Because then I'll have to spank the shit out of you, and not in a good way."

I huff out angry breaths. "Then spank me already."

He laughs in my ear, a low, hoarse chuckle. "You're such a brat."

I struggle against him some more, but he doesn't budge. The air between us is intense, and even if I could speak, I wouldn't be able to slice through the tension. I move again; my eyes widen an inch when something stiff in his pants glides against my thigh. Oh, god-- I'm in trouble. Heat courses up my spine in a burst of arousal and confusion. Why on earth is Lorenzo getting hard? Weren't we just trying to kill each other?

"Killing turns me on."

Right.

He did say that.

Lorenzo keeps one hand on both of my wrists, while his other hand slowly trails down my hips, leaving a trail of goosebumps. I shiver as his fingers play with the seam of my shorts, brushing across my skin. My bottom grows wet at his fingers graze the sensitive flesh. Heat floods to my belly.

"Lorenzo," I murmur, trying to steer the energy between us to somewhere normal.

"Do you know what's another fun way to practice holding your breath?"

I don't say a word. This is crossing a line we should've stayed away from. I lift my head from the ground, feeling his breath against my cheek, turning my face just enough for his mouth to end up only an inch away from mine. Then he grinds against me. I'm assaulted by a tingling arousal from the sensation.

"I'm still mad at you," I mumble.

A grin pulls across Lorenzo's cheek. "Yeah, yeah."

Our mouths crash together with feral energy. He tastes like vanilla and beer, and he takes my bottom lip between his teeth, tugging just enough to get a whimper out of me. My arm latches onto the back of his neck, pulling him closer as our tongues intertwine and our bodies grind against each other. We're desperate, devouring each other, hands and lips fighting for as much as contact as possible.

I don't know what I'm doing, but I'm horny.

I'll have to remember that when I regret this later.

He kisses my neck, my earlobe, and my chest as my hands fumble for his belt buckle. Lorenzo shakes his head, stopping the movement of my hands on his belt. My mind is swirling with confusion, but I'm whist away when he pulls my sports bra over my head and massages my breasts, squeezing my pink bud.

"I fucking dreamt about this," Lorenzo mumbles, latching his warm mouth around my nipple, sucking sharply.

An airy moan escapes my throat as a lazy smile sweeps across my face, and I hum, "Of course you did."

Lustful explains Lorenzo to a tea. A growl forms deep in his throat as he alternates his mouth, giving each breast special attention. He's wrecking my body with his mouth, leaving a trail of lovebites anywhere he can.

Then his touch drifts lower, leaving a trail of fiery goosebumps on my skin as he tosses my shorts and underwear aside. A warm pile of pleasure spikes when his thumb lightly massages my clit. My head falls back when he dips a finger between my folds, coiling around his finger. God, it feels so good.

He pulls his finger out, flaunting my arousal on his finger. "You're so wet for me." Lorenzo grabs the nape of my neck, drawing my face to meet his in a hungry kiss. "Let's find out how long you can hold your breath while I finger you."

Pleasure radiates from my thighs as he plunges two fingers within my folds, sporting a mischievous glint in his blue irises. Using one hand, he spreads my legs wider, dipping his head between my thighs. My body jerks in reaction to his warm tongue on my nub, sucking harshly as he pumps his fingers in and out of me.

My face glows, my arousal embarrassingly audible as he fastens his movements. I didn't think it would be feasible to miss this feeling, but shit, I've been deprived. This is the first time I'm receiving pleasure by my own consent.

My breathing grows heavier. Lorenzo moves his palm to my face, covering my mouth and nose as he severs my connection to the air supply. He doesn't stop finger-fucking, doubling the speed.

My eyes widen in panic, latching onto his wrist, but his gaze darkens, shaking his head. "Don't be scared, love. I'm going to be taking you to be with the stars. Just focus on the pleasure."

I thought this was a supposed to be a fun way to practice holding my breath, but I'm mind-fucked. How am I supposed to enjoy the pleasure when I'm terrified of not being able to breathe?

Focus on the pleasure.

Panic floods away like water vanishing into the drain, down the pipes overridden by pleasure. My eyes roll, and the heat rushes to my face.

"This little cunt is so fucking wet," Lorenzo mumbles against my clit, tingles running through my nerve endings from the sensation. "You fucking love this, don't you?"

Honestly, I'm not sure. With my breathing silenced, the only thing that can be heard other than Lorenzo's slurping of my nub is his fingers pumping in and out of my soaking pussy.

My chest pumps wildly, violently, and I can feel my heartbeat throughout every part of my body. I'm torn between wanting him to stop so I can breathe and needing him to rougher until I can't anymore.

"That's it, love. Good girl," he encourages, arching his two fingers in a way that hits the perfect fucking spot. "You're almost up to two minutes. Milk my fucking finger, Isabela. Come for me."

My entire body shudders as the orgasm tears through me without even meaning to. The entire sensation of his tongue, his fingers, and his filthy words threw me into a whirlpool, and I sank in the middle. My head feels like it's about to implode in the best way possible.

My hands wrap around his blond curls, gripping them tightly, pushing his face for more friction. The scraping of his five o'clock shadow is insane. My vision blurs, black spots appearing like stars as I tremble through this orgasm.

Lorenzo moved his hands down, uncovering my nose and mouth, and I instinctively inhale a deep breath, feeling like I just touched heaven. My body convulses against him, and he presses his palm on my lower belly, adding pressure, trying to keep me secure on the ground.

Every single nerve ending fucking tingles. "Holy fuck," I moan, my cheeks burning hot. "H-how long did I last?"

He gives my clit a light slap, receiving another jerk of my body. "Two minutes and ten seconds. You're a pro." He teases, planting a few kisses on my shoulder. "You should try sucking my dick while not breathing."

I roll my eyes. "I'll think about it."

So... um... this chapter got out of my hands lol... it went crazier than intended but I'm not mad about it 🤭🤭The character spoke for themselves and yeah...

Honestly I have no words...

What do you guys think? How do you feel about Lorenzo and Isabela crossing the friendship line? 😂😂😂

SERIOUSLY GUYS... I can't believe I wrote this I might need to go into hiding. 😂😂

Predictions: what do you think next chapter is going to be about 👀👀? Are you ready for it? What do you want it to be...

Also a little secret... we're really close to seeing he who should not be named 🙈

Thank you for supporting me and I can't wait to read all your funny, sweet comments!! Love ya!!!