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Does It Hurt?(141)

Author:H. D. Carlton

Troy shrugs. “How could you have?”

She frowns. “Did I even need to kill who I used to be?”

“Australia would’ve turned you over to the U.S. If they did, you would’ve had to go to trial and relive everything, and there’s a high probability that you would’ve been found guilty, despite his abuse,” I say. “There is scarcely justice served for abused victims in America. It’s better that it’s all dead and buried.”

“You’re right about that,” she sighs.

The shark splashes in the water, drawing my attention away.

“I’m going to finish up work here. And then we’ll go get your name changed. I already know what I want it to be.”

Her blue eyes slide to mine, bewildered.

“You know what you want it to be?” she asks sassily.

I grin, and Troy gasps dramatically.

“Yo, did he just smile?”

Ignoring him, I declare, “I’m choosing your last name, bella.”

Chapter 39

Sawyer

One Month Later

Something soft presses against the side of my neck, rousing me from a deep sleep. A moment later, that gentle touch turns biting and sharp. I gasp, my eyes snapping open as Enzo sinks his teeth into the flesh beneath my ear.

“Enzo,” I groan. “My vagina has literally never been this sore in my entire life.”

“You can take it,” he mutters, emphasizing his statement with another nip. “You always do.”

“You’re so rude,” I grumble. “So uncaring of my battered, bruised body.”

He presses the hard length of his cock into my back, a soft groan slipping past his lips as he does. That small sound is enough to send heat slithering throughout my body, followed by a warm chill down my spine. It’s honestly pathetic how attractive he is. The dude could barter world peace or some shit, I swear.

If only he actually gave a fuck about it.

“I would have to disagree, Ms. Vitale.”

My heart thuds with the reminder.

Sawyer Vitale.

My first name is the only thing I have left from my old life, and it sounds so delicious every time it rolls off Enzo’s tongue. Admittedly, that may be one of the reasons I formed such a strong attachment to it, but considering I’ve long been running from my name, it feels good to finally be able to use it.

It was Enzo’s idea to take his last name. I argued, of course, but he wasn’t taking no for an answer. And after his very persuasive techniques, I didn’t see the point in fighting it.

It’s just a last name…

A name that will forever tie me to Enzo, even if he ever does get sick of my shit.

“Still don’t understand why you insisted on me taking your last name. We’re not even married.”

“Marriage is just a piece of paper. That last name is permanent.”

“I mean, technically, my last name is also just a piece of paper.”

He growls and whips my body to the side, forcing me onto my back as he crowds over me. I laugh at the fierce look on his face. Even through our shared near-death experience, he’s not any nicer.

“You’re such a brute,” I tease, my smile slipping when he slides my—his—oversized t-shirt up my stomach, his rough palms gliding against my skin.

I shudder, still not used to how a single touch has me melting like butter.

He leans down close, dragging his lips along the column of my neck.

“Ti mangerei.”

“What does that mean?” I whisper.

“It means that I could eat you,” he rasps, nipping the side of my neck again. I bite back a gasp, my back beginning to arch involuntarily as shivers roll down my spine, like a sensual brush of a finger from a lover.

A soft moan escapes and my arms wrap around his neck, trapping him on top of me despite how my body protests.

“We have to leave soon,” he murmurs, placing a kiss beneath my ear, then another along my jawline.

“Where are we going?” I breathe, my eyes fluttering shut as his mouth slowly travels to mine.

“Out on the boat,” he answers, and immediately, my eyes pop right back open, a refusal ready. Taking the opportunity, he dips his tongue in my mouth, capturing my lips between his in a savage kiss.

The fucker uses his mouth like it’s a red button to a nuclear bomb. And every time he presses it against mine, it lets off the explosive inside me.

His hand slides through my curls, fisting them tightly as he deepens the kiss, stealing my soul with every swipe of his tongue.

I understand why he never let anyone have a taste of him. They would become addicted, and he’d never be able to free himself from their clutches.