Chapter 1 #2
His brow furrows in a frown and it somehow makes him look even more handsome than usual. “Surely, you’re not that obtuse?”
Okay, well that was unnecessary. “I’m not obtuse at all, smartass.
I think I’m kind of cute actually, but I can only go on the evidence available to me.
Guys just don’t seem into me. Girls sometimes are, but I’m not that way inclined.
I did kiss Ellen Casey once though, at her sweet sixteenth.
It was okay I guess, but, not really for me. ”
And now he looks like he’s really pissed at me. He mutters a curse under his breath and then takes a half step closer, his chest almost bumping against my boobs. “Why did you come up here, Rayne?”
I screw my eyes closed, all of my grape vodka shot bravado melting away now. This was kind of stupid. No, scratch that. It was very stupid. What the hell was I thinking?
Enzo grabs hold of my jaw, and at the fresh touch of his fingers on my skin, a bolt of lightning races up my spine. “Rayne?”
Even the way he says my name makes my panties damp. He’s so dominant and commanding. So everything I have always wanted. I open my eyes, find him staring at me. It’s now or never, girl! “You made me a promise, remember?”
His jaw works, and now I’m wondering why on earth he would remember such a thing.
It was probably inconsequential to him. It was my sixteenth birthday, and I got fall-down drunk.
When Enzo was driving me home, I stupidly confessed to him that I was desperate to lose my virginity.
So much so that I was even considering sneaking out to Joseph Bertelli’s house later that night and taking him up the offer he’d made a few hours before, to break in my virgin pussy.
Enzo had seemed really angry with me, but then he’d grabbed my jaw, just like he’s doing right now, and he’d made me promise to wait for the right person.
And when I told him I was worried the right person might not like me back and I’d never have sex, he promised that he’d be my first if I wanted him to—but not until I turned eighteen.
And so here I am. Acting like a total idiot.
“I remember, cuore mio.”
My heart.
Did I say that, or did he? It was definitely him, wasn’t it? Or did someone slip hallucinogens into those vodka Jell-O shots? It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened at a party I’ve been at. “S-so, I’m eighteen now. And I’m still…” Too mortified to say the word, I stop speaking.
He brushes the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip. “Still a virgin? Yeah, I know.”
How does he know that? I could totally have lost my virginity without him knowing about it. In fact, it’s kind of strange that he thinks he’d know. Strange but somehow very very hot. “So that’s why I’m here.”
He’s quiet. Too quiet. I fidget, feeling more of a moron with each second that passes uncomfortably between us.
He’s staring at me, like he’s wrestling with his conscience, or else forcing himself to suck it up and deliver on the promise he made.
But there’s something else in his eyes too, a hunger perhaps.
I’ve seen it before, yet always convinced myself I’d imagined it.
Because Enzo Medici doesn’t look at girls like me that way. Nobody looks at me that way.
He edges closer, and now our chests are pressed together. “Rayne…” He grunts my name like it pains him to say it. “You have no idea what you’re asking me.”
“Yes, I do,” I insist. I’m certain that I want this, and only with him.
I’ve dreamed of this night for two long years.
Fantasized about it every chance I got. And there have even been times when I’ve caught him watching me when he thinks I’m not looking, when I wondered if he ever thinks about it too.
Of course he doesn’t though. Enzo can, and frequently does, have any woman he wants.
His fingers flex on my jaw, tightening their grip. “You want me to fuck you?”
Dear sweet mother of all that is holy and sacred, yes! I nod, too unsure of my voice to say that aloud.
“I need your words, Rayne,” he growls.
“Yes, I do.”
He turns my head to the side, trailing kisses over my neck, nipping me gently.
Liquid heat sears between my thighs. And then his mouth wanders along my jaw, to my lips, and he kisses me.
It’s deep and intense and sends my brain into meltdown.
All I can focus on is the way his tongue tastes as it flicks at the seam of my mouth.
The way he slides it inside and effortlessly deepens the kiss.
And now I forget feeling nervous. I only feel heat.
Need. The incredible, delicious certainty that I’m here and he’s real and this is happening.
When he pulls back, his grin is wicked and sinful. “Fuck, I love kissing you.”
“I love you kissing me too.” My hands glide over his back, over the hard lines of him—muscles that feel like they were designed for my fingertips to trace. I plant my hands on his shoulders, trying to remain steady on my feet, trying not to let my body betray me with every tremor.
“This is your last chance to back out, Rayne. Once I fuck you, you’re mine, baby. Only ever fucking mine.”
My heart soars into my throat. Not because I’m scared of what he just said, but because of how much I want to be his. Only ever his. I’ve been his for a long time already.
“I want this, Enzo,” I say, swallowing hard. “Only with you.”
His eyes rake over my face, and something dark slides into them—filled with hunger, yes, but also patience. Like he’s holding himself back on purpose.
“Have you ever done anything more than kiss a guy before?”
I shake my head, and my stomach drops at how exposed the truth makes me feel. I’m so inexperienced and naive when it comes to sex. “Like you said, guys never want to do more than kiss me.”
He lets out a dark laugh. “That’s because they all know you’re mine too.”
He drags his teeth gently along my jawline, and every nerve in me lights up like I’m made of electricity. His lips trail lower, soft and warm and unhurried. “Have you ever made yourself come?”
Heat races up my neck, then my face, my whole body.
I can’t quite look at him when I answer.
“Yes.” But it’s not only that admission making me blush.
It’s that I’ve come by myself more times than I can count.
And every single time I do, I picture him—his hands, his mouth, the way his voice turns me into something helpless.
That the fantasy of him always feels better than anything with anyone else.
He hums, and the sound vibrates through me. “I love that.” Then he kisses me again—slow and possessive. “You’re such a good girl,” he murmurs, and I swear those last two words light up my core. “And I’m going to ruin you, cuore mio.”
My pussy clenches at the pet name, and the way he says it like he’s been waiting to claim me. I slide my hand toward his waistband, and when my knuckles brush against his hard length, he makes a low growling sound like he’s fighting himself. Like he wants to give in faster, but he won’t.
“Patience, Rayne,” he says, voice rough. “I need to make you wet for me first.”
I’m already wet, panties damp just from his kiss. My whole body aches with impatience. I’ve waited for this for so long already.
“I’m ready, Enzo,” I plead.
He tuts softly. “I love how much you want this, baby. It’s making my cock harder than iron just having my hands on you,” he says, and the rough edge to his voice makes my knees go wobbly, “but I’ll let you know when you’re ready.”
He guides me to the bed and lays me down on it before undressing me torturously slowly. My dress goes first, then my bra, and finally my panties, which he holds to his nose before inhaling my scent. “Fuck, Rayne. I cannot fucking wait to taste you.”
Then his mouth is everywhere except where I need it most, and I hate the way that makes my body crave him harder. Each kiss, each touch, each lingering second pushes me closer to the edge.
“You’re even sexier than I imagined you’d be,” he growls.
When his mouth finds the stiff peak of my nipple, I make a sound I don’t recognize—half gasp, half plea. Pleasure spikes so fiercely inside me that it rattles my bones.
“Enzo—please!”
“It’s okay, baby,” he murmurs, his tone both soothing and dangerous. “I know exactly what you need.”
Then he shifts his weight until he’s nestled between my thighs, and my entire body goes taut—like a bow pulled back to its limit.
His hand slides to my pussy, and I feel his touch in every part of my being.
Gentle circles. Patient pressure, and a rhythm that makes my brain go quiet and my body submit without hesitation.
Heat builds. My breath grows ragged. My thoughts scatter into fragments I can’t gather up fast enough.
And when he finally dips a finger inside me, my world tilts on its axis. I’m so overwhelmed I feel like I might actually pass out from sheer need.
“Christ, you’re fucking soaked, Rayne,” he says through clenched teeth. “Maybe you’re my naughty girl.”
He gently works his finger in and out of me, and my body feels electrified.
I cling to him like he’s the only thing keeping me anchored to this earth.
He works with purpose—skilled, reverent, and so damn patient with me.
Even though I can feel him holding back, his muscles vibrating with the effort of it.
I tilt my head back as his mouth brushes against the skin of my neck. “You’re doing so good for me.”
“I am?” I manage, voice strangled by desire.
“Yeah. Your tight little pussy is squeezing my finger so hard,” he says, possessive enough to make my stomach twist. “I can feel how desperate you are to come, baby.”
I am desperate. Pleasure starts to build like a wave rolling in under my skin. It travels through my limbs, settles in my core, and makes my whole body shudder like it’s trying to break free from its skin.