Chapter 40 Enzo
My hands move to frame her face, thumbs brushing over the flush that heat and want have left behind.
I anchor her there, forcing her to feel the pull between us, the static charge snapping in the space we share.
Her lips are soft, her breath uneven, chest rising and falling in a rhythm that already belongs to me.
“Tell me I can fuck my bride,” I say, my voice more a plea than a command. “Give me permission, Zara.”
She nods, urgency spilling out in a whispered rush. “You have my permission, husband. Fuck me. Fuck your bride.”
The last shred of restraint I’ve held cracks clean through.
My mouth claims hers, no patience, no restraint—only hunger and need. Not lust. Possession.
Her hands fumble at my shirt, desperate to strip me bare. I let it fall away, her nails raking across my chest, and a growl rumbles from my throat as I seize her hips and haul her up against me as I stand.
She clings tight, legs winding around my waist, her body molding into mine as if it was always meant to fit there.
I pick her up, turn back to the bed and place her on the mattress with a care that borders on reverence, then step back for a moment just to look.
She sprawls across my sheets, long legs parted, waiting.
“You’re a vision,” I rasp, my gaze sweeping over every inch of her bare skin sprawled across my bed.
No lace to peel away, no barriers to fight through—just her, already mine, waiting.
My hands drag over the curve of her thighs, tracing upward until my thumbs press into the soft dip of her hips.
“Christ, Angel, I’ll never get enough of this. Of you.”
She shivers beneath the weight of my stare, lips parting, eyes wide and hungry.
I shift lower, settling between her thighs, spreading them wide.
My mouth finds the inside of her knee, then higher, leaving heat and nips in its wake until I’m so close I can feel the warmth radiating from her slick, swollen pussy.
She props herself on her elbows, eyes locked on mine and the sight makes something feral in me snap.
Her breasts rise with every breath, her nipples peaked and waiting, and I can’t resist. I lean forward, catching one between my lips, my tongue circling before I suck hard enough to pull a sharp cry from her throat.
My hand toys with the other, pinching, rolling, and her body arches beautifully, offering me more.
But I’m greedy. Insatiable.
I drag my mouth down, kissing and biting her stomach as I force her thighs wider, anchoring her open.
Then I bury my face between her legs. The first stroke of my tongue makes her jolt, a broken gasp spilling from her lips.
I drag my tongue slowly up to her clit, savoring the way she trembles before picking up the pace—pressing my tongue deeper until she’s rocking into my mouth.
“Enzo—” Her voice cracks, desperate and raw.
I tighten my grip on her thighs, pinning her down, even as her body fights to arch closer. My voice is rough against her flesh. “Two years I’ve been starving for this pussy. Two years, Angel, and now you’re going to scream my name while I drink every drop you give me.”
Her answering cry is wrecked, her hands fisting in the sheets as I devour her, relentless.
Her moan rips free, wild and filthy, and I devour it. I suck her clit hard, flicking in ruthless strokes, before plunging lower, fucking her with every thrust of my tongue. Her hips chase me, riding me, and I let her grind against my face until she shatters.
“Fuck, that’s it, Angel. Let go.”
Her back bows, a cry tearing from her throat as she comes, body shaking, thighs quivering against my hold. I don’t stop until I’ve wrung every tremor out of her, until her breath breaks on my name.
When I finally rise, my lips are wet with her, my mouth marked by her taste. I cover her, kiss her deep, feeding her what I stole. She’s wrecked, dazed, her body boneless under mine—yet her hands fumble at my belt, frantic, greedy for more.
“I need you,” she whispers.
I strip off my pants and boxers in one motion, and she stares down at my cock like she’s forgotten how big I am.
“Are you clean?” I ask, voice husky.
She nods. “I’m clean. But…I’m not on birth control.”
“You’re my wife now,” I remind her, brushing her hair back from her face, “I won’t have anything between us.” A dangerous smile curls my lips. “So, Russian roulette it is.”
I don’t give her time to second-guess it. I guide myself to her entrance, tease her with the head of my cock, dragging it through her wetness.
Then I push inside.
She gasps, her whole body tensing before she melts beneath me as I sink into her inch by inch. The heat, the tightness—Christ, it’s everything. Not something I could ever forget. It’s been carved into me since the night we met. “Fuck, Zara,” I groan, bottoming out in her. “You were made for me.”
Her eyes snap open, glassy and wild, and she clutches at me like I’m the only thing keeping her tethered. “Say it again,” she whispers, desperate. “Say my name again, Enzo.”
I thrust into her, deeper, harder, my voice rough. “Zara.” Another thrust. “Zara.” Her body seizes around me, every squeeze answering the sound of her own name falling from my mouth.
She meets me, hips lifting, nails clawing down my back. “Enzo,” she gasps, breath shuddering with the effort. It’s no longer just sex—it’s a prayer, a chant, the rhythm of my name tangled with hers.
Every stroke drives it deeper, a litany of need and surrender. Her voice trembles, mine growls, until it feels less like we’re speaking and more like we’re worshipping, calling each other into existence with every thrust, every breath, every shiver of flesh against flesh.
I drop my mouth to her ear, voice rough and dangerous. “I intend to properly consummate this marriage.” My teeth scrape her jaw. “You want to be bred, if I remember correctly.”
“Yes,” she moans, arching beneath me, her thighs locked tight around my waist. “God, yes, Enzo.”
My rhythm turns punishing, relentless. Her cries are raw, torn from deep inside her, her body quaking beneath every stroke. “I can feel how badly you want it,” I snarl, dipping to bite her shoulder hard enough to mark her. “Your body’s begging for it.”
“Please,” she gasps, voice shaking, stripped of anything but need. “Fill me up. I want your cum inside me.”
Her plea detonates in my veins. A guttural growl rips from my chest as I drive into her harder, claiming every inch, every sound she gives me. She shatters again, crying out my name like a prayer, clinging to me as if I’m the only salvation she’ll ever know.
“Such a good wife, coming on my cock,” I praise, fucking her through her release.
“Fuck, I’m going to fill this pussy.” Two more brutal thrusts and I’m gone—roaring as I spill inside her, grinding as deep as I can go, pouring everything into her body until I’m emptied, until there’s nothing left but fire in my veins and her name on my lips.
My hips stutter, the aftershocks rolling through me, the heat of it mixing with hers as our slick bodies writhe, frantic then slowing, breathless in the wreckage we’ve made of each other.
“I’ll fill you again and again,” I rasp against her neck, pressing my mouth to her skin in a vow as much as a threat. “Until you’re carrying my child. Until the world can take one look at you and know who you belong to.”