Make Me Moan, Daddy-Chapter 102

CALESTINO

The second our mouths crashed together, six years of silence shattered inside me like glass I’d been swallowing every day since he walked out.

Lorenzo tasted exactly the same—smoke, mint, and that sharp, metallic danger that always made my brain short-circuit. His hands were in my hair instantly, yanking the cap free, fisting my locks so tight my scalp stung in the best way.

I backed him into the glass wall, the city lights smearing behind him like they were bleeding for us. His tongue slid against mine, hungry, claiming, like he was rewriting every memory I’d tried to bury.

I shoved his shirt open. Buttons pinged across the marble floor. My palms dragged down his chest—harder now, sharper ridges, the body of a man who’d spent those missing years carving himself into something lethal. He bit my lower lip until copper bloomed between us, then laughed low into my mouth when I groaned like I was dying.

"Still so fucking greedy? I see." He murmured, fingers already tearing at my belt. "You missed me, didn’t you, Cal? Say it. Tell me you’ve been aching for me every single night."

I didn’t answer with words. I spun him, pressed his chest to the cold glass, yanked his pants down just enough to bare his ass. He tried to twist, tried to push back and take control like he always used to, but I pinned his wrists high above his head with one hand and ground my hips against him, letting him feel how hard I already was.

"Not tonight," I rasped against the nape of his neck, breathing him in—sweat, cologne, him. "I didn’t prep. I’m not letting you inside me raw. Not yet."

He laughed—low, filthy, mocking, but trembling at the edges. "Aw, baby. You been keeping that tight little hole just for me all these years? Saving it like some lovesick virgin? How fucking sweet."

I shoved two fingers into his mouth. He sucked them greedily, tongue swirling, eyes locked on mine in the glass reflection, spit dripping down my wrist. When I pulled them free they glistened, obscene.

"Or maybe," he said, voice thick with venom and want, "you’ve been saving it for Paolo. I know you’ve always wanted him to bend you over, and fuck you stupid. You just never had the balls to ask your precious best friend. Always so loyal. Always so good. Bet you stroke yourself thinking about him sometimes, huh? Wondering what it’d feel like to finally let the boss’s good son wreck you."

He was trying to mess with me, so I ignored his bullshit.

I curled my fingers inside him without warning—two at once, deep, scissoring slow. He hissed, back arching off the glass, but the smirk stayed on his lips, even as his thighs shook.

"Fuck you," I snarled, adding a third finger, stretching him open while he moaned and cursed and laughed all at once.

Lewd little thing.

"Yeah," he gasped, pushing back onto my hand like he was starving. "That’s the idea, babe. But we both know you’d rather be the one getting fucked. You always loved being on your knees for the right man. Just admit it, you’ve been waiting for me to come back and take what’s mine. Say it, Cal. Say you’re still mine. Tell me I haven’t lose you yet."

I couldn’t listen to any more. I pulled my fingers out, spat on my cock, and pressed the head against his entrance. He was tight—still so fucking tight after all this time. It almost made me feel like his hole was just the way I had left it, but knowing that bastard, he wouldn’t have kept both his cock and his ass in his pants.

Fucking slut!

I pushed in one slow, agonizing inch at a time, letting him feel every ridge, every vein, letting myself feel the way he opened for me like his body remembered exactly who it belonged to.

Lorenzo groaned—loud, broken, wrecked. The sound punched straight through my chest. He was burning hot inside, velvet-tight, clenching so hard my vision blurred at the edges.

I bottomed out and stayed buried, both of us shaking, breathing ragged.

"Move," he begged, voice cracking. "Please, Cal... fuck me like you hate that you love me."

I pulled back almost all the way—slow, careful not to hurt him—then rolled my hips back in, grinding deep, dragging every sensation out until he whimpered. I fucked him in long, torturous strokes: out until just the head remained, then back in slow and deep, circling my hips to hit every spot that made his legs tremble.

Skin slapped softly at first, then wetter, filthier. His moans turned into broken sobs of pleasure, tears streaking down his cheeks in the reflection.

"Harder," he gasped. "Show me how much you missed me. Show me how much it hurt without me."

I gripped his hips—hard enough to bruise—and gave him more. Faster now, but still deep, rolling thrusts that made him arch and claw at the glass. He pushed back to meet me, hole fluttering, milking me like he was trying to pull me inside forever.

Then he whispered, soft and almost tender:

"So... how’s your daughter?"

My rhythm stuttered. Just for a heartbeat.

He felt it. Twisted his head, eyes glittering through tears.

"I know you knocked a girl up and she had a baby for you. Cute little thing. Shame what happened to her mother. Hmm?" His voice dropped, wrecked but steady. "You should be grateful it’s just the mother who died. I could’ve taken the baby too."

Fuck! I had always knew the accident wasn’t natural. I should have fucking known.

I fucked him harder—deep, punishing rolls that rattled the glass. Tears burned my own eyes now, mixing with sweat. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝔀𝓮𝒃𝙣𝓸𝒗𝒆𝒍.𝙘𝒐𝒎

"Well, aren’t you gay, Cal? As if cheating on me wasn’t bad enough, you also got someone pregnant. You bastard dare give your fucking cock to someone else. Damnit. I should have cut it off." He hissed angrily, head bumping ruthlessly against the glass. "Did you love her, huh?"

"Shut the fuck up and stop asking me stupid shit." I growled, tightening my grip on his hair.

"Fuck!" He gasped, throwing his head back. "I saw the picture of your little girl, she’s beautiful. She has my smile."

He laughed breathlessly, voice shaking. "Bring her next time. I’d love to meet my stepdaughter. Once I’ve taken everything from my father—once the empire is mine—I’m going to marry you. Make her ours. Our little family. You, me, and the daughter you tried to hide."

I lost it.

I pulled out, spun him around, slammed him back against the glass. My hand wrapped around his throat—tight, fingers digging in just enough to make his eyes flutter and his cock twitch against my stomach.

"Shut. The fuck. Up. Lorenzo!" I thrust back into him in one brutal slide, holding him there by the neck while I fucked him slow and deep, grinding against that spot inside until his legs gave out and I had to hold him up with my thigh. "She’s mine. Not yours. Not ours. My daughter. Mine."

He smiled around my chokehold, lips parted, face flushed crimson, tears spilling freely now. "Yours... until I decide otherwise."

I fucked him like I was trying to carve my name into his soul. Changed angles, pounded that spot mercilessly until he was sobbing my name, hole clenching so hard I almost came right then.

He came first—shuddering violently, spilling hot between us, moaning broken praise: "Cal... fuck... yours... What’s yours is always mine. Same as all of me is yours."

I kept going. Slow. Deep. Grinding through his oversensitivity until he was whimpering, shaking, begging for mercy and more at the same time.

"Too much. Cal... please."

"Good," I growled against his mouth, licking the tears from his cheek. "You wanted me to take what’s mine. So take it. Take every inch. Feel how much I’ve waited."

I pulled out only long enough to drop to my knees, lick the mess from his cock, suck the head until he cried out, then stand and shove back inside in one slick, deep thrust. His legs wrapped around my waist, heels digging into my back, pulling me closer.

I fucked him slower now—rolling hips, grinding circles, dragging every last spark of pleasure out until we were both trembling wrecks. When I finally came it felt like everything inside me broke open: I buried myself as deep as possible, choking him harder as I filled him, pulse after pulse, until I had nothing left.

We stayed locked together—me still inside him, hand around his throat, foreheads pressed, panting, sweat-slick, ruined.

Lorenzo’s eyes opened slowly. Even with my fingers on his pulse, even with my cock still twitching inside him, he smirked—soft, satisfied, dangerous smirk.

His voice came out hoarse, wrecked, dripping with dark promise.

"Enzo." I sighed, biting down on my lip as I remembered the secondary reason I was here. "Please promise me you’ll leave Reina out of this."

"No!" He said with a frown, glaring hard at me. "Since she’s fucking my father... she’s going to suffer with him m. And no matter what I do or who I fuck with, I know you’ll help me out with it because you love me and you are my loyal dog."

I stared at him, chest heaving, still buried deep, still holding his life in my hand, and felt the last piece of my soul crack clean in two.

Because I knew he meant every word.

And worse—I knew I was going to help him anyway.

Even after everything, even knowing what came next... I still wanted to be his.