Intense pleasure is building in the base of my spine, and her struggling to breathe is only enhancing it.
I focus on the water, making sure the bubbles are still consistent, but it seems as if she’s trying to keep herself from thrashing. Vibrations are racking every single bone in her body one moment, and the next, she goes completely still.
And then, she’s exploding. She’s tightening around me until my eyes threaten to cross, and I’m lost in the euphoria. I release her head, allowing her to come up, but I’m oblivious to her when she’s nearly convulsing around my cock.
“Fuck, fuck, FUCK, Sawyer,” I chant, crowding over her and sinking my teeth into her shoulder as my own orgasm tears through me. More words slip out, trading between Italian and English. I’ve no idea what I’m saying, solely that it’s the only prayer I’ve ever believed in.
My vision goes black, and never-ending groans ripple from my throat while I spill inside her, streams of cum filling her pussy until it’s pouring out of her.
“Oh my God, oh my God, Enzo,” she chokes, voice raspy and hoarse.
The sensation becomes too much, so I rip myself out of her, an animalistic feeling rising in my chest when my release streams down her leg.
Using two fingers, I gather it from her leg and push it back inside her cunt, biting my lip when she chokes on a gasp and turns to look back at me.
“This is mine,” I proclaim. Then, I repeat it in Italian. “Questa è mia.”
I withdraw my fingers and spread my cum up to her ass, circling the tight entrance before dipping my thumb inside. She sucks in sharply.
“Enzo,” she hisses.
I need to know that I’ve been in every part of her. On every part of her. I gather more of it from her dripping pussy, then trace my name into her skin with it.
“Now you can have my name,” I murmur. She peeks at me over her shoulder, her cheeks tinted red, eyes dilated, and her pink mouth parted.
I want to keep her. I will keep her.
As if hearing me and solidifying it, she licks the salty water off her lip before whispering, “I forgive you now.”
A wicked feeling is swirling in my chest. The same feeling I had when her hair was in my fist and my cock buried within her the first time I held her beneath the water.
“Yet, I will never stop asking for it,” I tell her. “I will never stop worshiping you.”
I cup her again, baring my teeth while the darkness thrashes against my flesh, threatening to tear right through.
“You will be mine until you draw your last breath, Sawyer. And it will be my hand holding you beneath the surface, introducing you to death.”
I dip my fingers into her pussy again, then retract them and hook the same two in her bottom teeth, jerking her face toward me. She squeals, stunned as I lean closer until my breath fans across the wet curls matted to her face.
“Ma solo quando sono pronto a venire con te. Annegheremo insieme, bella ladra.”
Chapter 27
Sawyer
“Piccola, wake up.”
“Hmm?” I mumble, rolling over only to be greeted with a shooting pain up my back.
Oh my God. I may be only twenty-eight, but it feels as if I have aged eighty years overnight. Sleeping on hard rock is terrible for anyone’s back, no matter how much of the night you spend sprawled on top of someone else.
“Sawyer, svegliati,” the voice says more sternly.
“I’m up,” I groan, flinching when I roll to my side. I release another long groan. “Fuck me up the nose, dude.”
There’s a beat of silence, and then, “What?”
My eyes are still closed, but I roll them anyway. He takes everything so literally.
“I’m going to need a serious yoga session,” I whine, sitting up and finally cracking open my eyes. Enzo is crouching in front of me, staring at me with a fierce expression on his face.
He never translated what he said last night when marking me everywhere with his cum. But whatever it was, it set off a deep thrill inside me. The type where you’re willingly walking into a dangerous situation for the adrenaline rush.
It was… passionate yet unhinged. Like, murder me and stuff me, then try to spoon-feed me beans because he thinks I’m still alive type of unhinged. Some Norman Bates shit. It was a mix of I want to strangle you and I’ll never let you go.
It’s how Kev used to look at me, and I recognize precisely what it is. Obsession.
Except this time, it sets my insides aflame, and I want to return that look with a smile that says Never let me go. I’ll die with your hands wrapped around my throat.