Chapter 100: Dracula Did Not Infact Have Mercy On My Ass

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The first thing I figured out about being all tangled up was that time seemed to lose all meaning.

The knot inside me was still tight when the room finally fell quiet.

Lorenzo held me gently, one arm wrapped around my back while the other traced slow patterns along my spine, almost as if he was trying to soothe the marks he’d left behind.

His face was tucked against my neck, with his nose resting right over that temporary bite, and every now and then, he’d inhale deeply, emitting a low, contented sound that vibrated through my skin.

The pressure of his knot felt intense, a lingering reminder that I was stuck there, unable to move even if I’d wanted to, while the warm, slick aftermath of our shared release slowly seeped around the swollen base of him, soaking into the sheets below us.

‎

‎I didn’t have the energy to argue. My body felt heavy and overly sensitive; every little movement sent fresh sparks through nerves that had already been pushed to their limit.

All I could do was lie there and breathe through the aftershocks. Pride kept whispering sharp little reminders in the back of my mind...how completely I had given in, how I had begged, how I’d actually asked him not to pull away.

But the rest of me was still floating in that strange, heavy calm that came from being held so completely.

The fact that I had asked him to stay inside felt like a second knot in my chest, part shock and part lingering pleasure, and I couldn’t decide which feeling was more troubling.

His scent enveloped me, mixing with mine and settling into the sheets, a reminder that we’d spent the night together in a way far beyond what our original marriage contract had foreseen.

Honestly, I wasn’t too keen on dwelling on that.

But my brain had never been one to respect my wishes.

I could clearly recall the parts of the night that made me cringe every time I recalled them, especially the moments when my stubbornness had finally crumbled under exhaustion and emotions I’d spent months burying.

And then there was that one part that hit especially hard.

I had actually asked him to stay.

I’d genuinely asked Lorenzo Castelli, the man who refused me a divorce for months, the one who had once torn my freedom to shreds right in front of me, the guy who could have a room full of armed men cowering with a mere word, to keep holding me.

If anyone had told me a year ago that I’d ever willingly say something like that to him, I would have said they needed help.

And yet, here I was, curled against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat like it was the most normal thing ever.

Lorenzo lowered his head and placed a soft kiss on my hair. His fingers ran through the damp strands, brushing them back from my forehead before resting against the back of my head.

"Are you comfortable, tesoro?"

I considered lying, mainly to keep up my reputation, but the effort to come up with a believable answer seemed way too much.

"I’m thinking about filing a complaint about your entire existence."

A soft chuckle vibrated through his chest.

"...So is that a yes?"

"It’s a pretty generous maybe."

"Then I’ll take it."

"Of course you will. You take everything."

His hand paused briefly on my back, and when he spoke again, his tone had lost some of its playful edge.

"Today has changed things between us, Alex."

I shut my eyes. "I get it."

"I don’t mean just because of the contract."

I understood exactly what he was getting at, which was why I wished he’d stop.

The contract had been a foolish idea from the start, yet I had agreed to it. I had convinced myself that a written deal would give me some control over a situation where I had very little.

It had given me a goal, a set of conditions, and the comforting illusion that there was a clear line between what Lorenzo wanted and what I was willing to give.

Now that line felt a whole lot blurrier.

Lorenzo’s thumb traced slowly over my shoulder.

"You’re my husband," he said softly. "But last night, you became something more to me than just a business arrangement."

‎I made a soft, noncommittal sound, caught between agreement and exhaustion.

My thoughts were loud enough to drown out almost everything else...pride bristling at his claim, shock at how thoroughly I’d submitted, and the unsettling memory of how safe I felt locked to him...but I was too sore and too tired to put any of it into words.

"I love you, Alex," he murmured.

My chest tightened.

There were probably hundreds of suitable responses to that kind of statement, but at the moment, I couldn’t think of a single one.

I could have said I loved him too, but the words seemed too monumental, and I was still grappling with how they could coexist with the anger and fear I felt toward him.

I could’ve told him to stop saying it, but that would just be a lie.

He seemed fine with the silence, just holding me and gently wiping some of the mess off my stomach and thighs with careful fingers, never pulling out, until the knot finally started to soften.

So I settled for what I could manage.

"You’re really making this complicated for me."

His expression softened. "I know."

I turned away, feeling heat rise in my neck.

"I don’t want to talk about it right now."

"Then we won’t."

He didn’t pressure me for a response or insist I return his feelings.

‎When he pulled free, the sudden emptiness was almost overwhelming...it felt just as intense as the stretch had.

A fresh rush of warmth spilled out of me, and I couldn’t help the soft, involuntary whimper that escaped my lips.

Lorenzo made a quiet, approving sound as he pulled me closer for a moment before helping me sit up.

My legs felt shaky, and the deep ache between them reminded me of just how thoroughly I had been used.

He wouldn’t let me try to stand on my own, guiding me to the bathroom, where he cleaned me with the same steady patience he’d shown while stretching me open.

Then he carried me back to bed. I was almost asleep before my head hit the pillow, still processing everything that had happened, and smelling like him.

For a bit, I let myself linger there, careful not to confuse the comfort of his embrace with the erasure of everything that had gone down between us.

I could feel safe in his arms and still harbor resentment about how he’d taken my choices away in so many other parts of my life.

Both could be true, no matter how inconvenient that made my feelings.

Eventually, the tension started to fade, and Lorenzo shifted carefully, watching out for my discomfort as he helped me navigate the awkwardness of pulling away.

I buried my face in the pillow, partly out of embarrassment and partly because I was too tired to face him.

"My love," he said softly, "please look at me."

"I’m busy."

"Doing what?"

"Revisiting every decision I’ve ever made."

He chuckled softly, but his hand remained gentle as he helped me get cleaned up and ensured I was comfortable.

He took his time, and when I flinched, he paused to give me space before continuing.

The care made me feel oddly exposed, especially when I remembered how little I’d wanted him to take care of me in the beginning.

Once he was satisfied that I was clean and all set, he helped me back under the covers and adjusted the pillows behind my head.

I watched him through half-closed eyes as he pulled the blanket over me.

"Are you going somewhere?"

"Just to grab you some water."

"D–don’t take too long." The words slipped out before I could stop myself.

Lorenzo paused.

I stared at him and he stared back at me.

Then a slow, unmistakably pleased smile spread across his face. "Was that an order, mio cuore?"

"No. Just a warning. If you leave me here, I’ll tell Leon you’ve been neglecting me."

"An unforgivable accusation."

"I’m a very convincing witness."

He leaned down and kissed my forehead. "I’ll be right back."

He returned shortly with a glass of water and helped me drink before placing it on the bedside table.

I was already fighting to keep my eyes open, and the moment he settled back beside me, I instinctively shifted closer to the warmth of his body.

I didn’t think about it.

I just did it.

Lorenzo’s arm wrapped around me again, and he pressed another kiss to my hair.

"Sleep, tesoro."

I wanted to protest that I wasn’t tired, but my body had apparently decided it was done with my attempts to maintain some dignity.

My eyes fluttered closed, and the last thing I remembered was the steady motion of Lorenzo’s hand on my back.

When I woke up the next morning, I immediately regretted having a body.

It was a terrible design.

Whoever thought up muscles, joints, and nerves clearly never considered how inconvenient they could get after an emotionally charged night with a guy who could probably lift a small car.

I shifted beneath the covers and felt aches travel through my lower back and hips.

I let out a small noise, instantly regretting that too, and rolled onto my side with all the grace of a wounded animal.

"Holy shit...my fucking ass!"

"Why, good morning, beautiful."

I froze.