Chapter 16 Remy
Remy
We scramble out of our respective doors and meet in the backseat. The space is cramped, the leather cool against my heated skin, and I don’t care about any of it. Enzo pulls me onto his lap, and I straddle him, my thighs bracketing his hips as our mouths crash together again.
My hands find the buttons of his shirt, fumbling in my desperation to feel his skin. He helps me, shrugging out of the fabric and tossing it toward the front seat. And then his chest is bare, and I can finally see what I’ve been imagining since Montana.
Tattoos cover his left arm in intricate patterns that continue across his shoulder and down his ribs. Circuit boards branch into mathematical equations, numbers wind around muscle, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“I’ve wanted to do this since I first saw these.” My fingers trace the lines, following where circuits transform into proofs. “They’re not just for show, are they?”
"No." His voice is rough. "Every equation means something.
This one's Euler's identity. My dad called it the most beautiful equation in mathematics.
" He points to the circuits. "First security system I designed.
" His finger moves to numbers winding around his forearm. "Binary code. My brothers' names."
My throat tightens. “You carry them with you. All of them.”
“Always.” His hands flex on my hips. “I needed something permanent. Something that couldn’t be taken away.”
I lean down and press my lips to his bicep, following the path of one equation with my tongue. His skin is warm and faintly salty under my lips. “They’re beautiful.”
His grip on my hips tightens almost to the point of pain, and I rock against him deliberately. The groan that rumbles through his chest makes my center clench with need.
I pull back, looking down at him. His eyes are dark, pupils blown wide, and I can feel the hard length of him pressing against me through our clothes.
I drag my center across his erection, showing him that I want him, too.
“Are you sure?” The question comes out strangled. His hands tremble where they rest on my waist, his breathing harsh and uneven. Every line of his body screams how much he wants me, but he’s holding himself perfectly still, waiting for my answer.
Instead of speaking, I grab the hem of my blouse and pull it over my head. His eyes track the movement, lingering on my black lace bra. The way he looks at me—like he wants to devour me—makes me feel powerful in a way I haven’t felt in months.
I reach behind my back and unclasp the bra, letting it fall away.
Enzo goes completely still. His hands hover at my waist. He’s looking at me like I am the only thing that matters in the world.
“Remy—”
“Touch me.” The words come out breathless, needy. “Please, Enzo. I need you to touch me.”
His hands slide up my ribcage, thumbs brushing the underside of my breasts. His touch is worshipful, and I arch into it shamelessly. Heat spreads through my body, concentrating where we’re pressed together.
He leans forward and presses his mouth to my sternum, right over my racing heart. The feeling of his lips against my skin makes me gasp. He kisses his way up to my collarbone, teeth scraping the delicate bone, and my fingers dig into his shoulders.
“Fuck, I’ve wanted this for so long.” His words are muffled against my throat.
I laugh, but it breaks into a moan when his mouth finds the curve where my neck meets my shoulder. “You hid it well.”
“I had to.” His teeth graze my skin, not quite biting, but enough to make me squirm. “You were off-limits.”
“And now?”
He pulls back to look at me, and the intensity in his gaze steals my breath. “Now I don’t give a fuck about reasons.” His hand cups my breast, thumb circling just shy of where I’m aching for him.
I rock my hips against him again, and we both groan. “Then take me.”
“Not yet.” His thumb continues those maddening circles, never quite touching where I need him. “I’m not rushing it.”
Frustration builds in my core. I slide my hands into his hair, gripping hard. “Enzo, I swear to god—”
Finally, he lowers his mouth to my breast. But he doesn’t give me what I want. He kisses around the swell, traces his tongue along the underside, and bites gently at the soft flesh. Everywhere except where I’m arching into him, desperate.
“Stop teasing.” The words tear from my throat.
He looks up at me, his breath ghosting across my nipple. “I’m going to fuck you, Remy, but I’m going to take my time.”
Heat floods my face, but I’m too desperate to care.
He closes his lips around my nipple, sucking hard.
My whole body jerks. Sensation shoots straight to my core, and I cry out.
His tongue works magic, alternating between gentle licks and harder suction that makes my nails rake down his back.
His other hand palms my other breast, thumb and forefinger pinching and rolling until I’m grinding against him shamelessly.
“Enzo. Oh, god, Enzo—”
He releases me and immediately moves to my other breast, giving it the same devastating attention. I’m already soaked, desperate for friction, and the feeling of him hard beneath me only makes it worse.
He pulls back, breathing hard. “I want to make you feel good.”
Heat rushes through me at the promise in his voice. I reach down between us, palming him through his jeans. “You already are.”
His body shudders at my touch. “I want to fuck you now.”
The request makes my thighs clench. I work at his belt buckle with shaking hands. “Yes.”
We’re both fumbling now, desperate. His jeans catch on his boots. I have to contort myself to get my own pants off in the cramped space. The whole thing should kill the mood. Instead, it’s frantic and perfect and exactly what I need.
Finally, we’re both naked. I wrap my hand around his cock, marveling at the weight and heat of him. His skin is like silk over steel, and when I stroke him once, twice, he tenses with desire.
“Fuck.” He grabs my wrist, stopping me. “I don’t want your hand. I want your pussy.”
The crude words make me moan. I lean in close, my lips brushing his ear. “Then stop talking and take it.”
“Condom. Wallet. Front pocket of my jeans.”
I stretch toward the floorboard where our clothes are tangled. The movement presses my breasts against his face, and he catches one nipple between his teeth, tugging gently.
A strangled sound escapes me. “You’re not making this easier.”
“Good.”
I retrieve his wallet and pull out the condom, tearing the wrapper open with my teeth. Then I roll it onto him slowly, watching his face the entire time. His jaw clenches, his hands grip my hips, and the knowledge that I’m affecting him this much makes me feel drunk with power.
“Fuck, you’re driving me insane.” His voice is strangled.
“That’s the idea.” I position myself above him, feeling his heat, and I’m shaking with anticipation.
I sink down an inch—just the head—and we both freeze. The stretch burns slightly, but the fullness is already overwhelming.
“More.” He sounds wrecked.
“Like this?” I sink down another inch, then stop. His eyes flash with something dangerous and hungry.
“You’re really going to torture me right now?”
“You tortured me.” But my voice wavers because I’m just as desperate.
He thrusts up slightly, and I gasp at the sudden depth. “Two can play that game.”
“Okay,” I giggle. “Okay, I’m done playing.”
“That’s my good girl.”
His praise sends a gush of arousal straight to my center. I grind down on him, taking his whole cock in one smooth motion, and we both cry out. He fills me completely, stretching me in the best way, and I have to pause to adjust to the overwhelming sensation.
“Eyes. On. Me.” His voice is rough with need.
I meet his gaze, and what I see there makes my chest tight. Raw desire mixed with something that looks dangerously like devotion.
“Don’t look away.” He rolls his hips up, hitting somewhere devastating.
His head falls back against the seat, and I start to move.
This isn’t like anything I’ve experienced before. This is me taking exactly what I want, riding him with confidence, and the feeling is intoxicating. After months of feeling powerless—first with Damon, then with the threats from Trent—I finally feel in control.
His hands grip my hips, helping me rise and fall, but he lets me set the pace. Lets me take what I need.
I throw my head back, the sensation building with each thrust. His mouth finds my throat, sucking hard enough to mark, and I clench around him.
“Do that again.” I’m breathless, desperate.
He moves to the other side of my neck, and I shudder. “This?”
“Yes. God, yes.”
The leather seat creaks beneath us. The windows are completely fogged, cocooning us from the world outside. The car smells like sex and us, and I know I’ll never look at this Range Rover the same way again.
I increase the pace, chasing the building pressure. Every thrust drives him deeper.
His hands guide my movements. “Fuck. Take what you need. Use me.”
I look down at him, my hair falling around us like a curtain. “You like that? Me using you?”
“Fuck yes.” His hand slides between us, finding my clit, and I jolt at the contact. “I like knowing that you want me.”
“I want you so much.” My movements stutter as he circles my clit. The pressure builds impossibly higher. My thighs tremble. My breathing goes ragged. “Enzo, it’s too much.”
His other hand grips my hip, helping me maintain the rhythm. “Stop thinking. Just feel.”
“Enzo!” His name is a prayer, a plea.
“Right there. You’re so close, I can feel it.” His words wash over me, pushing me higher. “Come for me. Come on my cock. I want to feel you!”
The orgasm slams into me. Every muscle goes rigid.
My head falls back as a cry tears from my throat, raw and unrestrained.
I pulse around him in waves, each contraction pulling him deeper, and the pleasure is almost too intense to bear.
His name falls from my lips like a mantra while he works me through it, his fingers never stopping their perfect rhythm.
Before I’ve even finished, I feel him pull me down hard, burying himself deep. He shudders and groans my name. I feel him pulsing inside me, and it triggers another smaller wave that makes me gasp.
“Fuck. Fuck, Remy—” His grip on my hips is almost painful, but I don’t care.
When we can both breathe again, when the tremors fade to occasional aftershocks, I realize he’s still holding me like I might disappear.
I shift slightly, wincing. “Enzo. You’re crushing me.”
Worth it, though.
“Sorry.” He loosens his grip but doesn’t let go. “Sorry, I just—”
“It’s okay.” I cup his face, making him look at me. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Something cracks open in his expression—vulnerability I’ve never seen before.
He pulls me down for a kiss that’s completely different from before. This one is slow, thorough, and tender. This kiss promises things I’m not sure either of us is ready to say out loud.
When we break apart, I collapse against his chest. His arms wrap around me, holding me close while our hearts slow. I can feel him smile against my hair.
We stay tangled together for long minutes, the fogged windows gradually clearing to reveal the empty parking lot and the lake in front of us. Finally, I lift my head and look at him. His hair is a mess from my fingers, his lips are swollen, and I can see the marks my nails left on his shoulders.
He’s never looked more beautiful.
“We should probably get dressed before someone drives by and gets an eyeful,” I tell him.
He laughs, the sound rough and satisfied. “Probably.”
But neither of us moves. I trace the tattoos on his chest with gentle fingers, taking my time to explore each pattern.
I meet his eyes. “Thank you. For today. For letting me see this side of you.”
He cups my face in his hands. “Thank you for not running when I showed it to you.”
“I’m done running. From you, from your brothers, from all of this. I want to see where it goes.” The words spill out before I can stop them.
Fear flickers across his features, then something that looks like hope. “Even though it’s complicated?”
“Especially because it’s complicated.” I grin. “I like a challenge.”
He kisses me again, softer this time. A promise.
“We should get back.” I sigh against his mouth. “Before your brothers send out a search party.”
“Let them worry.” He pulls me closer. “Just a few more minutes.”
I settle against his chest, feeling safe and claimed and terrified all at once.