Enzo crosses his arms, waiting for an honest response.
The fucker can keep waiting.
Turning back around, I place my hands on the wall and start lightly knocking again, resuming my search for a hollow point.
“Sawyer,” he growls, the rough timbre of his voice deepening his accent and sending shivers down my spine. I never actually got to hear him moan my real name, and I think I’m glad for it. If I had, I don’t think I would’ve ever left that man’s bed, and while maybe that would have prevented this entire mess, it wouldn’t have prevented me from falling for him.
And that is by far more dangerous than shipwrecking in the middle of the ocean during a storm. Ask anybody.
“What?” I snap, embarrassed by the flush slowly crawling up my throat and the fact that I need to clench my thighs just to abate the throb between them.
“Why are you looking for the beacon?” he repeats, his voice closer than it was a minute ago. “I think it’s best you don’t lie to me this time.”
“I wasn’t lying. I was diverting. There’s a difference,” I defend lightly.
When I feel his presence close in on me, I yelp, twisting around and pressing myself into the wall.
“Don’t come a step closer, or I’ll scream,” I threaten, pointing a finger at him.
One of us is a lion and the other is a rabbit. And it’s not hard to guess which one is scared and which one looks hungry.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I demand.
Fuck. Didn’t work. He’s still looking at me like that.
“Answer my question. I’m not going to ask it again,” he orders, taking another step closer, his searing gaze locked onto mine.
The entire expanse of my body is flattened against the wall, and once more, I’m faced with the unbending fact that I can’t walk through solid objects.
He's always using his body against me. Using it to intimidate me, to distract me, to get what he wants.
Flip the script, dumbass.
Right. Easier said than done when there might as well be a Minotaur in my face, huffing down at me.
Working to swallow, I force my shoulders to relax, and then slowly, every other muscle in my body follows suit.
I cast my gaze to the floor long enough to gather courage that is entirely fabricated, then lift my eyes back to him, allowing myself to feel the throb radiating between my thighs and the way his proximity makes my nipples tighten painfully.
While my bravery is forced, the way my body reacts to him is anything but. There’s a constant battle of fighting my attraction to him and convincing myself that any man could make my knees weaken with a single look. And ridding myself of that internal war feels like wearing a tight costume for too long and finally taking it off to breathe. There are no pretenses, no denying the way my clit pulses beneath his stare, and the wetness that coats my inner thighs when he gets close enough.
There are no shutters over my eyes, hiding the truth from him as often as I hide it from myself.
Though he wasn’t moving, Enzo’s body seems to still. Like hitting pause on a movie. Except I double-clicked the button, and just as quickly as he stopped, he’s striking, wrapping a hand around my throat, and lifting until only my toes touch the ground. His form is pressing into mine so deeply, our lungs just might entwine.
How am I supposed to breathe if all my oxygen is going to him instead?
“I know what you’re doing,” he snarls. The heat radiating from his body threatens to burn me alive, the outline of my body forever charred into the stone wall behind me.
“I’m not lying to you,” I whisper, whimpering when he squeezes my throat tighter. His eyes dilate when the helpless sound reaches his ears.
Enzo hates me. But he also wants me. And I have no intention of letting him stop when it’s the only thing keeping me alive.
Slowly, I drag my leg up around his hip, inviting him deeper between my thighs. A low growl rumbles deep in his chest, yet he presses the hard ridge of his cock against my pussy, eliciting another cry from my constricted throat. A shudder works through my body from how good it feels, and it takes little effort to roll against his length, seeking something from him that I shouldn’t be.
“No, you’re not,” he agrees before leaning closer, his lips whispering across my jaw. “You know what else you’re not doing?”
“Hmm?” I’m distracted by the way he’s begun to rotate his hips, drawing out a breathless moan. A knot is forming in the trenches of my stomach, tightening each time his cock slides against my clit.