Chapter 16
“What the hell are you doing here? How did you get in?”
He takes a slow sip of the whiskey, his eyes never leaving mine. “You know I have my ways, Mila.” He sets the glass down on the side table.
“You broke into my home. Get out.”
He stands, and the space suddenly feels too small. He walks toward me, and I instinctively take a step back, my back hitting the door I just closed.
“Get out?” he growls. “You think I’m going to just watch the woman I’m in love with walk out on me and go straight into the arms of another man?”
The woman I’m in love with. The words hang in the air between us, a cruel, beautiful joke.
“Too little, too late, Enzo.”
Ignoring my words, his gaze drops to my mouth, then my neck. “Was he a good date? Did he make you laugh?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“Answer me.” He yells roughly, but his thumb brushes my jawline like a feather. “Did he touch you?”
I want to lie. I want to hurt him the way he’s hurt me. “Yes.”
I see genuine pain flash across his face before it’s replaced by chilling fury. “Where?” he growls.
“Enzo, stop.”
“Did he hold your hand? Did he kiss you? Don’t you dare lie to me.”
“Why do you care?” I shoot back. This is what I wanted. This is the monster I’d always sensed lurking beneath his perfect suit—and it comes out just to play with me. “You had your chance. You threw it away.”
“I was a fool,” he bites out. “I was a coward. But I’m here now. So I’ll ask you one more time. Did he kiss you?”
“I kissed him. And it was nice.”
A low, guttural sound escapes his throat, and his mouth crashes down on mine. It’s brutal and possessive, his teeth digging into my lower lip. I push against his chest, but inside, I’m soaring.
Yes. Yes. Lose your mind. Finally.
“I can taste him,” he snarls when he pulls back. “Did you fuck him?”
“No,” I say. It’s the truth, but it sounds like a lie even to my own ears.
“I’m not quite sure I believe you.” His hands make quick work of my jeans and top while I hit his arms the whole time.
“Pretty lingerie,” he sneers. “Was this for him? Did you let him see you in this?”
I try to cover myself with my arms. He bats my hands away like they’re annoying insects. He grabs me, spins me around, and bends me over his arm. The first smack of his hand against my ass is so shocking I cry out.
“You’re insane!” I scream—but inside it feels like baptism, like I was born for him to play with, to have his way with, and I’m finally experiencing it.
He rips at the delicate lace of my panties, then forces me back against the door. “Let me smell,” he growls, pressing his face against my pussy, sniffing like a rabid dog.
Heat climbs to my face. I’ve been dancing and playing around all night, so I’m not exactly the freshest—but the slight moan that escapes him tells me he doesn’t mind.
“I only smell you,” he murmurs. “But you’re fucking soaking, Mila.” He drags a finger through my wetness, holding it up between us. “Who made you this wet? Was it him—thinking about him while you were getting dressed? Or was it me, knowing I’d be waiting for you?”
“It was him,” I lie. “I was thinking about him.”
His expression blackens. “Wrong answer.”
Then his mouth is between my folds. His tongue is relentless, his lips bruising. I thrash against the door, my nails scraping uselessly at the wood. The part of me that’s screaming stop is drowned out by the part of me that’s screaming more. Every nerve ending is on fire.
“I’m going to make it up to you,” he vows. “All that time I pushed you away. I’m going to fuck you until you can’t remember anyone’s name but mine.”
He surges to his feet, lifting me as if I weigh nothing. My legs wrap around his waist instinctively as he carries me toward the bedroom, his mouth claiming mine again. He takes without asking.
And God help me, I let him.
But a wave of old hurt crashes over me. I shove at his shoulders, my legs kicking as I try to wriggle free. “Put me down, damn it,” I snap. “I can’t just… this isn’t fair.”
My bedroom door flies open with a nudge from his knee. He sets me down on the edge of the bed. I scoot back immediately, hugging my arms around myself, the tears starting before I can stop them.
It all pours out—the ache of those nights wondering why I wasn’t enough, why he only seems to want me now that I’m done waiting.
“Why?” I choke out, wiping at my face. “Why wait until I’m packing my bags? You could’ve said something months ago. Years ago. Was I just… not worth it before? Did you hate the idea of being seen with me that much?”
His expression crumples, color draining from his face. “Hey—no. God, no, that’s not it at all.” He reaches out slowly, thumbs a tear from my cheek, then leans in to press his lips there. “Don’t cry like that. It kills me. I’d do anything—anything—to make this right.”
He kisses another tear, then my jaw. “I can’t stand seeing you hurt because of me. Please, baby… let me fix this.”
“It does hurt. So much. You acted like wanting me was some dirty secret. Like I wasn’t good enough. I felt invisible around you.”
“Baby, listen to me. It’s not shame. You’re fucking perfect.
Too perfect—that’s the problem.” His voice roughens.
“I was scared shitless. Terrified I’d mess it up, that someone like me—flawed as hell—would drag you down.
I’m not going to lie, I’m still terrified.
But not pursuing you isn’t an option anymore.
Every day, every night, it’s been you in my head.
I was an idiot, too wrapped up in my own fears to see I was losing the best thing in my life. ”
I believe him. I truly do. But the insecurity refuses to go away.
“I love you,” he says quietly. “Let me prove it. Let me show you how much I need you.”
That’s exactly what I need—for him to prove it.
I nod faintly.
He guides me back onto the pillows, his mouth starting at my neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down to my chest. He lingers over my heart, pressing his lips there.
“Your heart—it’s mine to cherish. I fucked up so bad, but I’m begging for another chance.
I’ll spend forever making it up to you, worshipping every part of you. ”
He cups my small breasts, thumbs brushing my nipples until they pebble tight. “These… fuck, I’ve thought about them nonstop.” His tongue darts out, circling the tip before he sucks it in deep, drawing a gasp from me as pleasure shoots straight to my core.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve jerked off imagining this,” he confesses. The image nearly makes me incinerate. My pussy aches for his touch. “Your body drives me insane. These little tits—they’re mine. I want to mark them, taste them every day.”
He undresses, revealing his perfect body. Enzo is a gym addict, and it shows. Every part of him is ripped, his cock thick and throbbing—like something carved by a god.
He rubs the head along my wet slit, coating himself in my arousal. “I need to be inside you,” he rasps. “Need to feel you clench around me. Need to know you’re mine.”
“Yes,” I breathe, wrapping my legs around him. “Take me.”
He pushes in slowly at first, inch by inch, stretching me around his girth until he’s buried deep. We both moan, his hips finding a punishing rhythm. He fucks me like he’s starved.
“So tight. So wet for me,” he growls.
The bed shakes, our bodies slapping together, sweat-slick and frantic. He angles his hips, hitting that deep spot that makes me cry out, his thumb pressing rough circles into my clit.
“Come on my cock, baby. Let me feel you fall apart.”
The pressure builds, then shatters me as I clamp down around him. He groans, slamming in one last time, flooding me with hot spurts of cum.
He stays inside, kissing my neck, my heart, whispering that he’s never letting go again.
We’ll see about that.