Chapter 34 Use Me
Use Me
I'm learning things I never thought I'd learn. I wish you were here to keep me sane. To stop me from falling off the edge and becoming someone I don't want to be. —Enzo
Izzy
Carina throws her arms around Enzo, squealing the second she opens the door and finds us soaked to the bone on the porch.
“Oh my god—come in, get out of the rain!”
We dropped Mamma Giuliana off at a hotel on our way. She insisted, despite Enzo trying to convince her to join us. She didn’t want to intrude.
My teeth chatter uncontrollably, prompting Enzo to turn toward me, rubbing his hands up and down my arms in an attempt to warm me.
“You mind if we grab a quick shower?” he asks Carina.
“Of course not!” she says, already ushering us upstairs and pointing out the guest room and bathroom.
Enzo drops our bags by the bed, then pulls me into the bathroom, locking the door behind us.
I peel my clothes off my body, Enzo doing the same, until they're left in a wet heap on the tiled floor.
Enzo leans around me, turning the shower dials and adjusting the temperature before motioning for me to step in.
The first splash of warm water against my shoulder makes me flinch, but the pain fades quickly. The wound has finally closed, leaving a small, circular almost-healed scar in its place. It still aches if I move too much, but otherwise, it's fine.
Enzo steps in behind me, his hard body pressing into my back.
I turn.
His eyes blaze.
I don’t know who kisses who first, but suddenly, our mouths crash together in a hungry collision, all teeth and tongues and desperate heat.
I moan into him as my hips rock forward, his cock already hard and hot, pressing into my stomach. I reach between us, curling my fingers around the smooth length of him, stroking him slowly. His head falls back with a groan.
“Isolde…”
I drop to my knees.
“Izzy,” he protests, trying to lift me back up. “Your shoulder—”
“—is fine,” I cut in, firm.
I run my tongue along the underside of his shaft, savoring his taste. A bead of pre-cum glistens at the tip. I swipe it with my thumb and bring it to my lips, sucking it clean while keeping my gaze locked on his.
“You’re killing me,” he breathes—whimpers—and the sound shoots straight through me.
“Use me,” I whisper.
“Izzy…”
“Use me. Please.”
It’s been so long. The only time we’ve been intimate since everything happened was that slow, quiet moment in the bath.
But I don’t want slow.
I want him unhinged. Uncontrolled.
I want him to fuck my throat like he needs it.
I see the shift in his eyes. The snap. His fingers fist in my hair, guiding me.
“Open your throat, baby,” he says, voice rough.
I breathe deep, relaxing as his hips thrust forward, filling my mouth until he hits the back of my throat.
“Good girl. So fucking pretty on your knees for me.”
I glow under the praise, relaxing further.
My hands grip his thighs as he starts to move—shallow thrusts at first, controlled.
But he’s holding back.
“Can you take more, Cuore mio?” he rasps.
I hum around him in answer.
That’s all it takes.
He fucks my mouth in earnest, each thrust brutal and possessive. My lungs burn, tears stream down my cheeks, my knees ache against the slick tile—and I love it.
One hand tightens in my hair while the other slaps my cheek. Pain zaps through me. My clit throbs.
I look up at him, smiling around his cock, encouraging him.
He hits me again.
I moan.
He uses me, chasing his release, panting raggedly until his rhythm stutters.
“Goddamn. Fucking perfect. This fucking mouth—”
Then he’s coming.
No warning, no hesitation.
I swallow every drop, milking him with my lips as his body trembles.
When he slips free, I lick my lips clean, looking up at him.
He stares down at me, reverent.
“You okay?”
I smile. “More than okay.”
He helps me up gently, mindful of my shoulder, the contrast to how he just used me making my heart clench.
Once I’m standing, he brushes a soft kiss across my lips—then sinks to his knees.
My back hits the shower wall. His hands grip my hips.
“Tesoro,” I sigh as he leans in, tongue teasing my clit.
He plays with me. Licks and withdraws. Just enough to make me whimper.
“Enzo, please…”
He chuckles against me
Then devours me—the way he sucks my clit, the subtle scrape of his teeth. His mouth is relentless, and when he slides two fingers inside, curling them just right, it’s over.
I sob through the orgasm that crashes over me, my knees giving out. But he holds me up, never stopping until I’m shaking.
Bang.
“Just friends my ass,” Nate’s voice calls through the door.
Fuck.
The heat vanishes in an instant, replaced by mortified silence.
A laugh bubbles up, bursting from my throat. Enzo grabs the soap, lathering it between his hands before slathering it over my body—massaging my breasts and ass with far more enthusiasm than necessary.
We finish showering quickly, giggling like kids, then step out and wrap ourselves in the only towels available: fluffy pink ones. Enzo, with hot pink tied low around his hips, looks almost comically out of place—ridiculous and somehow still stupidly hot.
With no clothes in the bathroom, we make a break for the hallway—thankfully avoiding witnesses—and dig through the bags for something dry. Once dressed, we head downstairs and find Nate and Carina lounging in the living room.
My cheeks heat instantly when I catch their knowing grins.
“Do you share showers with all your friends?” Nate asks. “Or just the special ones?”
Enzo huffs a laugh. “You’re a child.”
We drop onto the couch opposite them.
“Thanks for letting us stay,” I say, steering the conversation elsewhere.
Carina waves me off. “It’s no trouble. Tess is hormonal as fuck right now—you don’t want to be around her too long.”
Technically, Tess would’ve been the obvious choice—Enzo’s family and all—but we didn’t want to intrude with the baby on the way.
Enzo scowls. “That’s my sister you’re talking about.”
Carina just grins. “You’ll see what I mean.”
The rest of the evening blurs into laughter and warmth. We order Chinese takeout, devouring noodles and dumplings while Nate recounts their last kill like a dramatic stage monologue.
“This guy—he had the nerve, the audacity, to call my princess a whore while I was slicing into his chest.”
He gestures wildly, as if we’re watching a play.
“I wasn’t letting that slide. Hell no. No one insults Carina. So, I cut out his tongue. Made him eat it. Took a play from Carina’s book—remember the time you sliced off Simon’s cock and fed it to him?”
He sighs, wistful, looking at her with actual heart eyes. “Good times.”
By the time I crawl into bed, dressed in one of Enzo’s shirts, I’m ready to crash. This day has been long.
Enzo shuffles in next to me, scooping me into his arms so my chest is against his side, one of my legs strung over his.
“I love you, Isolde Alessandra Romano,” he whispers, yawning as he does.
My breath catches. Papa gave me the name Alessandra after my mother. Despite never meeting her, there’s always been an ache, a cavern in my chest where she’s missing.
“I love you more,” I murmur, letting my head rest against his chest, listening to the steady drum of his heartbeat as I fall asleep.