“Enzo, let me touch you,” I beg.
Uncaring of his response, I grab onto his forearms before he can answer, feeling the thick protruding veins threaded throughout them. He picks up a steady pace, his grip on my hips becoming bruising.
My mouth opens on a silent scream, my back bowing until I’m practically balancing on my head as he fucks me.
I’m clawing at his arms while the sharp sound of skin slapping arises.
“Oh God,” I cry, trying to keep my voice down but failing miserably.
“Can you see him, baby? Ask him for forgiveness.”
“Why?” I pant, another high-pitched moan nearly swallowing the word.
“Because you worship me now.”
He ends his promise with a sharp thrust, this one angled differently to hit that spot inside me that has electricity racing down my spine.
God, how could I not worship him? Sex with him is the only time I’ve ever prayed.
I bite my lip hard, the orgasm deep in my stomach building rapidly. I’m trying to slow it down—to savor this—but my body has taken on a mind of its own. My hand darts to my center, and I’m circling my clit firmly, amping the pleasure up to dizzying heights.
“Enzo, I need to come,” I rush out, my tone hushed but high-pitched.
“You come when I tell you to,” he growls.
One hand releases my hip, moving to where he drives inside me. I feel pressure, and then his finger is slipping inside my pussy above his cock, stretching me further.
An unnatural sound leaks from my throat, the foreign sensation shocking. I’ve never in my life had a man fuck me with his dick and finger at the same time.
His digit curls, hitting my G-spot so precisely, it’s almost too intense.
“Oh my God, that—wait, fuck, Enzo,” I stutter, the entirety of my body beginning to vibrate.
My bladder feels like it’s on the verge of releasing, and though I know exactly what he’s going to make me do, I feel out of control over my bodily functions.
“You’re going to come for me, bella, and you’re going to fucking paint me in it. If I’m not covered, then I will make you do it again until there’s nothing left of you.”
Once again, he’s curling his finger, massaging the area with savage persistence. It only takes seconds before I’m erupting.
I have enough forethought to slap my free hand over my mouth in an attempt to disguise the scream tearing out of my throat.
After that, I lose all cognitive function. My soul is ripped from its vessel, no longer sustainable when it’s been completely decimated in this moment.
I’m consumed by the euphoria transporting me back into the middle of that ocean, where a much greater force seized control over me.
This time, I don’t know if I’ll ever resurface. I don’t know if I want to.
Distantly, I feel Enzo pull out of me and deliver sharp slaps directly on my pussy, heightening the pleasure. I’m exploding, but I’m too far gone to process what’s happening around me. All I know is that my eyes are rolled far back into my head, and my body is seizing.
Then he’s driving inside me again, resuming his position with both hands gripping my hips while he savagely rolls his own into mine. It doesn’t take long before he’s lost right alongside me; my name growled so deeply, that I feel it along the surface of my skin.
Reality eventually takes over, pulling me from the sea of bliss. Slowly, my senses come hurtling back in, and I’m thrown back into my body.
I’m flat on my back with Enzo hovering above me, still inside me but no longer moving. His head is bowed, and he’s trembling and silent.
“Enzo?” I croak, growing concerned. There’s an innate fear that he’s already regretting what we just did.
He straightens, and my eyes widen. Just as he demanded, his chest and abs are dripping with my release, droplets trailing down the contours of his body.
“Oh,” I breathe, at a loss for words. I grab for my discarded t-shirt on the bed and sit up. “Let me clean that off.”
His hand snaps around my wrist just as I lift the shirt to him. “Don’t.”
Awkwardly, I retract my hand and scoot over to huddle against the wall. The bed is soaked, and I’m glad it’s on his side.
“Was that the nightmare you were hoping for?” I mutter, feeling the tension thickening between us.
He glances at me. “No. It was worse.”
I swallow the hurt, not even sure how to interpret that. I can’t tell if it’s a play on words or if he truly thought the sex was awful.