He drops his knee, both legs now submerged in the water, and leans forward. I bristle under the intensity of his stare, unsure if his eyes are blazing because he’s attracted to me, too, or if he’s tired of my questions.
“You’re going to ruin me, too. But unfortunately for you, that’s where I feel most at home.”
I gather enough courage to tread closer to him, but not close enough for him to grab for me. I’m not that brave yet.
I’ve never been brave at all.
“What does that mean?” I ask, getting distracted by another droplet trailing down his chest.
“It means that if anything happens, tonight is it. One night.”
I look up at him through my lashes, and I feel a bead of water drip from my eyebrow and trail down my cheek. It feels symbolic.
“Deal,” I say, my voice hoarse with desire. “Then we never see each other again.”
Before he can answer, I dip below the surface and swim until I’m right at his feet. I pop up, swiping my hands back through my blonde strands, and nearly choke from the fire in his hazel eyes.
Heart pounding, I brace my hands on each of his knees and lift myself up until we’re eye to eye. He tenses beneath me but doesn’t move away. Up close, I can see just how extraordinary his eyes are. Swirls of golden brown and green mix together, rimmed by a dark ring. And on his right eye is that dark spot, like someone accidentally dropped a bead of ink.
“But I need to make sure of one thing first,” I tell him, darting my tongue out to wet my lips. His eyes drift down, watching my tongue disappear before traveling farther south, lingering on my breasts that are pushed together and the water trailing over my curves. Slowly, he lifts his stare, and by the time our eyes reconnect, I’m nearly panting. Now, I can see raw emotion reflected back at me. Near-feral desire, and it’s fucking invigorating.
His fists clench and my breathing stutters as I watch a man possessed with need hold himself perfectly still, not even a breath expanding his chest.
Forging on, I whisper, “I’m tired of men who don’t know what they’re doing. So, kiss me first. If you don’t know how to fuck me with your mouth, then you won’t know how to use your dick, either.”
He chuckles, the sound low and deep. Humorless, like I’ve just told him that I’m not scared of him while he’s holding a knife to my jugular.
Even though his smirk is cruel, it does things to my insides anyway. Twists them up like a rag drenched in gasoline before lighting a match to it. I just know I’ll never be the same again after tonight.
A dimple appears in his right cheek as those white teeth sink into his bottom lip, as if he’s holding in cynical laughter.
“You want me to fuck you with my mouth? I can do that, baby. But it will be your pussy I’m fucking.”
He lifts a hand, trailing his fingers up my cheek and into my hair. I tremble beneath his fiery touch, my bones turning to jelly just from a single brush of his skin.
His grip turns rough, jerking me forward and wringing a gasp from my throat, nearly causing my hands to slip.
“But I promised I wouldn’t do anything you didn’t beg me for,” he reminds me, a vicious challenge in his tone.
I’ve never begged for dick in my life. Never had to, when men are so fucking simple. Though, I guess that’s actually not true. There were a few occasions when they accidentally stumbled upon my G-spot, and I pleaded with them to stay right there.
They never did.
“Please,” I croak.
He only shakes his head, and I try not to feel rejected. Cocking my head at him, I scan my eyes down his physique, questioning if he’s even worth begging for.
Noting the look on my face, he reaches between my thighs and presses firmly down on my clit, causing me to jolt beneath his touch.
“I’m not the type of man you want to doubt,” he says, his voice deepening.
He can locate the clit. Good enough for me.
Biting my lip, I lean forward until my lips brush against his jaw, delighting in the way he stills.
“Please, Enzo. I need you,” I whisper, ensuring he can hear every note of desperation.
A deep growl rumbles in the base of his throat as I drift my mouth toward his, coming so close before he pulls back.
Denying me his lips, he grabs my waist and lifts me up, relieving my trembling arms from supporting my weight. Spinning me around, he sets me down on the slick rock and slips back into the water.
Our positions now reversed, he weaves his arms under my knees, grabs my hips, and roughly tugs me toward him. The unforgiving surface grates against my flesh, but it only serves to sharpen the desire cutting through my nerve endings.