Chapter 41
Chapter
Forty-One
RAYNE
After we left Carmine’s, Enzo drove us straight back to his penthouse while his brothers stayed behind to tidy up any loose ends.
I’m glad that I got to confront him, to look that devious sack of excrement in the eye and tell him that I know exactly what he did.
It took a lot of therapy to learn to deal with what Ethan did to me, and even more to get past how Enzo treated me afterward, but none of it was as cleansing as looking Carmine in the eye and snuffing out his last flicker of hope.
“Brandy?” Enzo asks and I realize he’s joined me in the den.
We both showered when we got back. I changed into one of his T-shirts while he’s wearing only gray shorts, his dark hair wet and his skin glistening with moisture like he didn’t dry himself off completely.
In any circumstance, the man is a walking snack, but right now, he’s a whole damn buffet.
I lick my lips and then remember he asked me a question. “Yes, please.”
He pours us each a glass and then sits on the armchair opposite me, hands clasped between his spread thighs, his groin directly in my eye-line so that I can see the outline of his impressive cock. Not sure if he’s intending to distract me, but it’s sure as hell working.
I take a sip of the expensive liquor, enjoying the familiar taste and the way the liquid warms my mouth. “Thank you for letting be there today.” I know it can’t have been easy for him given how overprotective he is, and it means a lot that he put his ego aside for me.
“Rayne.” His gorgeous dark eyes narrow on my face. “It was the least I could do. I would do anything for you. Anything.”
Something about the way he says that makes me believe him, even if my life would be a whole lot easier if I could simply dismiss it as hyperbole. “Well, I appreciate it, and I wanted to let you know.”
“You’re welcome.” He takes a swig of his drink, and I watch the way every taut muscle seems to flex and ripple as he moves, his throat thickening when he swallows.
He’s quite the specimen, and maybe it’s the emotion of the day or the effects of the adrenaline, but I can’t stop thinking about touching him, tasting him.
“How does it feel to finally have it all, Enzo?”
He runs his tongue over his bottom lip and an image of that tongue licking elsewhere flashes into my head, making heat pool between my thighs. “I’m not sure I do have it all.” He downs the rest of his brandy, placing his glass onto the coffee table with a solid thunk. “Not yet.”
The last two words sound like a promise, or maybe a threat, and I’m almost certain he’s referring to me.
Of course, it’s entirely possible that’s not what he means at all.
Things between us have been easy this past week, and that’s because we’ve had no expectations.
No agenda. We’re simply two consenting adults who have the kind of insane sexual chemistry that’s both magical and rare.
Yet now it feels like we’re veering dangerously close to the kind of emotional minefield we should definitely avoid.
“You’re the new don though. The king. I feel like I should bow. Maybe be on my knees.” I flutter my eyelashes, knowing exactly how those words will land.
He growls, eyes darkening with desire, confirming my suspicion. “You would look so fucking good on your knees for me.”
I smirk, finish my drink.
And then I slide off the sofa onto my knees, and crawl across the floor to him. By the time I reach him his hands are balled into fists, his deep-brown eyes ablaze with the kind of desire that already has me wet and needy. I come to a stop between his spread thighs.
His gaze rakes over me, hungry and dangerous. He reaches out to touch, but I pull back and shake my head. “I’m going to need you to put those hands on the armrests, sir,” I purr the words.
His jaw tics, but he wordlessly does as I ask.
“And I’m going to need you to keep them there. If you touch me, I’m stopping.”
His lip curls like he wants to protest.
Oh, I’m going to enjoy this as much as he does. “Do you understand?”
He nods.
“I’m going to need your words, Enzo,” I tease him.
“Yes,” he says through gritted teeth.
I run my hands up his powerful thighs, squeezing his taut quad muscles and offer him a wink. “Good boy.”
His whole body tenses as he white knuckles the chair, and I suppress a giggle, only because I don’t want to lighten the mood any. It costs him to give up control, and I don’t take that lightly.
I slide my hands over his solid abs, over the pink rose tattoo, the only pop of color in an otherwise dark sea of ink.
I love more than anything that he kept that.
Then I tug down the waistband of his shorts, revealing the full length of him.
As dicks go, his is spectacular. The perfect length and lined with thick veins, the kind I’m going to enjoy tracing with my tongue.
I wrap my hand around the base, my fingertips not able to meet even when I squeeze.
He groans at my touch.
I smile sweetly. “Hard already, huh?”
“You’re not wearing panties, Rayne. Of course I’m hard.”
With only three pairs of panties to my name, I was saving my clean pair for tomorrow, knowing they probably wouldn’t be on for very long tonight anyway, but I was sure he hadn’t noticed my lack of underwear.
I guess he pays even closer attention to me than I thought.
“And you’re wearing my T-shirt,” he growls like he’s pissed at that fact.
“You told me I could,” I remind him. My own choice of clothes is so limited that sometime last week he offered me free use of his closet.
“Yeah,” he grunts, shifting his hips a little so he thrusts into my hand. “But seeing you in it makes me feral for you.”
Oh, I see. I bite down on my lip and file that particular nugget away for future reference. After flashing him a sweet smile, I dip my head and flick my tongue over the crown of his cock, licking off the precum beaded there.
An unholy groaning sound rips from his throat.
“Jesus fuck, baby.” His words vibrate through his whole body, and I find myself blushing with pride.
He used to love when I gave him head, was putty in my hands.
I always adored the feeling of power and control it gave me—like I could unravel him with a single caress of my tongue.
He might be the most powerful man in the city, and I’m the one on my knees here, but I’m in no doubt of who’s in charge, at least for right now.
Enzo has always had an unparalleled ability to make me feel powerful, and I’m going to savor every single second.
I wrap my lips around the tip of him and take him into my mouth, teasing him at first. Sucking softly, letting my tongue work over the underside of his shaft and then back to his crown, over and over.
A glance at his hands confirms he’s still white knuckling the armchair, the thick muscles in his forearms vibrating with the effort of holding himself back. And the sexy moans coming from him, soft and rough and dangerous all at the same time—they alone could make a girl combust.
“Fuck, baby. I really need to touch you,” he growls.
“No.” I let him slip out of my mouth for a second. “Touch me and I stop.”
His chest is heaving, perspiration slicking his solid muscles.
My eyes meet his when I take him into my mouth again, all the way to the back of my throat this time.
I work him over. Teasing, sucking, and licking, letting my teeth graze over his sensitive skin.
My pussy wet and aching now from the sensation of him filling my mouth.
“Rayne, please, baby,” he begs, voice hoarse and ragged.
Oh, his pleading is a sound to behold. If I wasn’t already so needy for him, that would be enough to have me soaked.
I contemplate slipping my hand between my thighs to give myself a little relief, but I want all of my focus on him.
I take him as far as possible, swallowing so that my throat massages his crown.
He mutters a string of curses in Italian, his eyes closed and his fingertips still digging into the chair. I let my hands wander over him—savoring the hardness of his solid chest and abs along with his thick thighs while I suck and lick him, swallowing the stream of precum that leaks from his tip.
“Motherfuck!” he cries out, warm ribbons of cum filling my mouth and throat. So much that it drips from the sides of my lips even as I try to swallow it all.
His entire body is shaking when I let him slide from between my lips. I sit back on my haunches, immensely satisfied with myself while I admire my handiwork. Enzo Medici—completely undone. His chest heaving, breathing labored, eyes still rolled back.
I push myself up, but before I’m even on my feet, his hand darts out, gripping my wrist in a firm hold. My eyes meet his, and he arches a thick dark eyebrow. “My turn.”
Oh, wow. I’m sure my pussy just shrieked with delight.
He pulls me to him, and I stumble over his feet and fall onto his lap.
He catches me with ease, moving me so I’m straddling him.
My shirt comes off in a split second. And then his mouth is on mine, tongue delving inside as he tastes himself on me.
His powerful hands roaming my back, my hips, thighs, ass, stomach, breasts, neck, in my hair.
He’s everywhere, like he’s making up for the short time he wasn’t allowed to touch me by caressing every single inch of me that he can.
I moan into his mouth, hyper-aware of the one place he isn’t touching me.
The one place I’m desperate for him. He breaks the kiss, but his lips never leave my skin, trailing down my neck and then my collarbone until he reaches my breasts.
He sucks a hard nipple into his mouth and lightning shoots through my core.
“Enzo,” I whimper his name, shamelessly needy.
It’s almost like that’s what he was waiting for, and his hand finally slips between my thighs, fingers slipping easily through my slick center. He smiles against my skin. “You’re so fucking wet, baby. Just from sucking my cock?”
I drag my hands through his hair, arching into him, wanting his mouth back on my throbbing nipples. “I love sucking your cock.”
“Fuck me, you’re perfect,” he groans.
He dips two thick, delicious fingers inside me, grinds the heel of his palm against my throbbing clit.
I’m so close already that my eyes roll back, my body alight with euphoria.
I’m about to fall over the edge when he abruptly stops.
The shock is akin to being doused in a bucket of ice water.
But there’s no time to protest because he stands, spins me around, and drops me into the chair.
And now he’s on his knees, staring at me like he’s a man deprived.
Or maybe depraved, but I’m here for whichever.
He smirks at me, wicked and sinful. “Told you it was my turn.” Gently, he spreads my thighs, hooking them over the arms of the chair.
“Fuck, that is the most glorious sight I’ve ever seen.
You’re dripping onto that leather, baby.
” He drags the pad of his thumb along my wet folds, and my nerves light up once more, making me moan.
I throw my head back, letting him take back all control. I’m totally at his mercy, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Where my body’s concerned, I trust this man more than I’ve ever trusted anyone.
“Shall I clean you up?” he asks, his voice dark and dangerous. “Or is that just gonna make you even more messy?”
I don’t have time, or the cognitive reasoning to answer, because he licks the length of my pussy and I almost pass out with the wave of pleasure that engulfs me.
Enzo eats pussy like he’s trained for it his whole life, soft and rough, knowing exactly what pressure to apply and where.
He keeps his hands planted on the insides of my thighs, and I simply let myself submit to his mouth as he works me over with the kind of skill no man should possess.
I have no idea how long he keeps me teetering on the edge of oblivion, but when he finally tips me over, I come so hard I see stars and dancing sugar plum fairies, hear choirs of heavenly angels.
When I find the strength to open my eyes, he’s smirking at me. “Are you okay?”
I nod shakily. “You know, I think I was wrong before…” He frowns, puzzled. No doubt because I’m so rarely wrong. “You should definitely be the one on your knees for me. You look good there.”
I expect at least a growl, maybe a snappy comeback, a spanking would be nice.
But I get none of that. Nope. Instead his face turns all serious and solemn, and there’s definitely some of that guilt he carries around now showing in his eyes.
He takes my hands in his and kisses my knuckles.
“Baby, I will spend my entire life on my knees for you if you’d let me. Anytime and anywhere.”
I bite on my lip, overwhelmed by a rush of love for him, not helped by the lingering effects of the mind-melting orgasm, I’m sure.
I swallow it all down. Not knowing how to respond, I remain quiet.
I think he knows it too. How much I struggle with this part of us.
The part of us that was once as natural as breathing.
But I’m not sure I can let him have that part of me again, even if I want him to.
Even though I love him, I’ve learned to love myself too.
And the broken girl inside me would never forgive me for opening ourselves up to that kind of pain again. We wouldn’t survive it a second time.
Gently, he unhooks my thighs from over the chair and sits me upright. “I was thinking, I know you probably want to get back to San Francisco, but you’ll be safer here. If only for a few days until we’re sure everything is settled and we’ve dealt with the fallout from Carmine’s death.”
I’m not sure that me staying here is all that much safer—at least not for my heart.
And I’m even more certain that’s not the only reason he’s asking me to stay.
I should absolutely say no and get back to my real life as soon as possible.
Snap myself out of whatever messed-up fantasy it is we’re living in right now.
But… I have no jobs lined up next week. And what if he’s right? What could a few more days hurt?
“Okay. I’ll stick around for a few more days. Until you’re sure it’s safe.”
A smile lights up his face now, and I find myself mirroring it.
Oh, Rayne! What the hell are you doing, girl?