Chapter Twenty-Six Enzo
Chapter Twenty-Six
Enzo
Oh my God.
Oh. My. God.
I banged my forehead against the dining room table, my ass clenching around Tom’s two fingers.
“Please just ffffuuck me already.” Was I salivating onto the table? Sure was. My cheek was glued to the wood with the mess I’d created.
Tom and I never made it to bed when he walked in at nearly four in the morning.
I was glad we’d talked on the phone his entire drive here, because we were all caught up by the time he arrived. These were the first words I’d spoken since he walked through the door. The minute I let him in, it was all tongues, tangled limbs, roaming hands, and desperate moans.
The only reason we were at the dining table was because of the sheer force I used when I pounced on him, sending both of us across the open-plan kitchen.
“Baby, I have to do it right this time,” he crooned, thrusting his fingers in and out of me, lubricating my ass.
I had fantasized about this moment every second of every minute of every day for the past two weeks.
My level of fixation with him had increased tenfold every day we weren’t in contact.
The only reason I’d stopped myself from reaching out to him was the knowledge he would absolutely destroy my heart when he was done with me.
I still knew that to be true. But I could no longer resist my own ruination.
The truth was, I had forgiven him for our first time before I even walked out his door.
Now, with him going back to therapy, back on his meds, and quitting his drinking, I was confident he’d communicate his shit better. If not out of bed, then at least inside it.
It didn’t erase what happened, but it eased the humiliation to know that it ruined him as much as it did me.
“Three fingers,” he announced now in his commanding tone, and I felt myself stretching to accommodate more of him.
I bent over, pushing my ass against his hand as the slurps of the lubricant filled the air.
His grip on my hip tightened, and I could hear both our wild heartbeats through our ragged gasps.
My dick was so hard I could club someone to death with it.
He reached to cup it, leaning forward to roll his tongue up my sweaty spine and give me a soft bite on the shoulder. “You ready for me, beautiful?”
“What do you think, bitch?!” I was yelling, begging, pleading.
The asshole started to laugh, peppering achingly soft kisses along my shoulder. “Patience, kid.”
“I can’t do this anymore.” I slapped my palms over the table, heaving with anticipation. “I need you to—”
He finally slid his gorgeous, lubricated dick into me, and that shut me up so good, because for a moment, all I could concentrate on was not coming all over the kitchen like a madman.
Tom grabbed both my hips and started moving, slowly finding the rhythm that made me whimper the sluttiest, trashiest moans known in human octaves.
My knees buckled, his dick was so good. Luckily, he was righting me and keeping me steady, or he’d probably fuck me through the floor.
Tom’s fingers found my hair, tugging me up so his mouth was on my neck as he kept pounding into me. His chest was so hard, his body so broad and muscular and…manly.
He grabbed my chin and turned me sideways, our mouths fusing together, feeding one another tongues, saliva, and grunts of pleasure.
“Tell me you’ve missed me,” I whimpered.
“I missed you.”
“Tell me you were jealous.”
“I was so fucking jealous.”
“And you thought about me the entire time.”
“I did,” he grunted with a thrust. “Fuck, kid, I fixed dishwashers and changed lightbulbs to try to keep my mind off you,” Tom crooned.
“Tell me I’m your favorite.”
He paused. My heart stuttered to a halt. For a second, I thought he’d refuse me and ruin the moment. But then came his soft, husky reply: “You’re not just my favorite, Butterfly. You’re my only.”
Butterfly.
He’d given me an actual nickname.
I rocked against him, sliding my tongue into his mouth again, kissing him deeper.
His hand feathered down my pecs, along my abs, until it found my cock and fisted it.
He started pumping me, his movements becoming jerkier.
The pleasure was blinding. It was under my skin, swimming in my head, in the musk of our bodies and arousal and sweat.
“No,” I whined into our kiss, my balls tightening and the familiar tingle in the base of my spine telling me I was close. “I don’t want it to end so fast.”
“Sorry, Butterfly. I’m already coming.”
“Oh, fuck yeah. So am I.”
“Wait until I’m finished.”
His hips shook and jerked as he emptied himself inside me, and then he ripped himself out of my ass in a flash, spinning me around and going down on his knees, sucking my orgasm out of me.
His lips were on my root as he took my cock deep.
I grabbed the edges of the table behind me, a sharp groan ripping from my mouth as I pumped into his throat a few times and came inside his mouth.
The moment I was done, I sank to my knees in front of him and kissed him hard.
All my cum was still in his mouth, so we were sharing the earthy liquid as it trickled down both our chins.
So fucking hot.
How could something so right be perceived as wrong?
He grabbed the back of my neck, tilting my head to him. “You good, kid?”
I nodded. Every single thing this time was communicated in advance while he drove here.
Every. Single. Thing.
He kissed my lips again, collapsing on top of me with a grunt, murmuring something incoherent about butterflies.
This time, I did have a shower, and when I got out, I even smelled coffee.
My eyes searched for Tom in the living room.
For a moment, a jolt of fear that he’d pissed off to his place again rattled in my chest. But then I looked beyond the glass door leading to my small balcony and saw him sitting on one of the two sunbeds, drinking coffee.
I lit myself a cigarette and joined him on the terrace, plopping on the sunbed next to him. We both watched the sunrise swelling, pulsating, spilling onto the city like a yolky egg. The cold didn’t bother me, even though I was shirtless.
I blew the smoke sideways, wondering if there would be more sunrises in our future together, or if we would find a way to piss each other off again and break up.
“Smoking’s a filthy habit.” Tom grabbed my sunbed and yanked it closer to him, tossing an arm around my shoulders possessively.
“I’m a dirty boy,” I bit back, ignoring the butterflies in the pit of my stomach.
“A dirty boy whom I’d like to annoy me for many years to come,” Tom retorted. “You should quit.”
My stomach flipped. I turned to give him my signature Joker leer. “You see this going on for years?”
“Are you going anywhere?” He scowled.
“No, but—”
“Neither am I.”
“Not even to Chicago?”
“Especially not to Chicago. I’m eyeing a promotion here in New York. Been vying for it for a while.”
“But…” I chewed on my inner cheek, “what about Katya? You said you’d never be a sidepiece again.”
“I’m not going to be the sidepiece; I’m going to be the main piece.” His voice dripped with authority. “We’ll figure something out.”
A loaded beat of silence stretched between us.
“You gave me a nickname.” I rolled the cigarette between my thumb and middle finger. “A real one.”
Tom groaned, pressing a kiss to my mouth to shut me up. It worked, for a couple minutes. But as soon as he pulled away, I said, “I like it. It’s romantic.”
“Please, Enzo, stop talking.”
“Why Butterfly?”
“I’ll tell you some other time.”
“Why not now?”
But I knew why. He’d reached his domestic bliss threshold and needed to retreat to that remote place inside himself.
“I can’t believe you tried to resist us.” I pouted. “I should sue you for emotional and physical damage.”
“Physical?”
“You blue-balled me.”
He didn’t smile. But at least he didn’t look like he was sad he’d left his weapon at home. Baby steps and all.
“What now?” I asked, because I honestly couldn’t just stay still and shut up. Every moment we weren’t talking or fucking felt like a monumental waste.
“I’m gearing up for one more fuck before I have to cancel all my plans for today.”
“What are your plans for today?”
“Rolling you between the sheets and fucking you until we die of thirst.”
That did shut me up. I’d find out about my moniker some other time. My curiosity could wait. My ass, however, couldn’t.
I rested my head on his shoulder, knowing full well that as soon as he left, the screaming in my head would resume.
Dread knotted my stomach.
For the first time in my life, I was truly happy.
And that happiness was so fragile, so forbidden, I knew it was destined to fly away.