Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
He stares at me for a long silent moment, his fingertips digging further into my skin as he slowly starts to push his way inside me. I start to turn around but then he freezes, his head shaking slowly. “I don’t think so, wife. You will look me in the eye the first time I slide into this perfect pussy of yours.” He pushes another inch in, and his lids start to flutter, his teeth clenching together. “Or should I say mine.” He groans, long and loud, and then he’s all the way in.
My lips part on a gasp, and I clench around him instantly, the stretch a sweet, burning one.
Enzo’s head falls back, his Adam’s apple strong and proud, my lips on his neck staring back at me, and I have this sudden urge to kiss him there again. To bite him. To make him hiss in pleasurable pain. But then he starts pumping, his face a beautiful, dark angel of pure pleasure, and I fall into it with him. I face forward, staring out at the lake, sucking in the fresh air and the freedom of this moment.
He fucks me against the railing, the sounds loud and raw, a heavy slap, a slick, slippery slide of his cock inside me. My head falls to my chest, and he drives his hips harder.
“You’re so tight, and you only keep squeezing me more. Your pussy is magic. Magic and mine and mmm,” he groans. “I can’t take it. Can’t believe I haven’t had you in every way fucking possible. I’m going to now. All over. Every-fucking-where. God, I’m going to ruin you like you ruin me.” He tips his hips, pressing his palm to the center of my back. “You’re going to crave me. Need me.” His thrusts are hard hits of flesh on flesh now, and I start to quake, my limbs shaking and threatening to give out as he fucks me raw. Senseless. I’m going to come.
He grips my hair, gently tugging as a way to silently call me up, and I go eagerly. My back is now flush with his sweaty chest, and I moan at the feeling, propping my foot up on the banister to give him better access between my legs.
He takes my ear in his mouth, scraping his teeth across the sensitive flesh before sucking on the space beneath it. “But best of all, my sweet, perfect little bride.” His hips jerk up, his free hand closing over my clit for a sharp pinch. “You’re going to fucking love me.”
As if he pulled some Houdini shit and said the magic words, I come on command, my greedy cunt sucking him deeper.
The orgasm is swift and sweeps through my entire being, and the wave keeps rolling, his fire and need and then his release consuming me, stretching out my own.
And then I pass out in my husband’s arms.
Chapter
Twenty-Two
Boston
“So.” Enzo lifts his head, looking out at the mess I made on the balcony. “Do we skip breakfast and go straight for lunch?”
Rolling onto my back, I let out a faux sigh. “And here I was, momentarily believing you knew me better than I realized.”
He leans up on his elbow so he’s above me, raising a dark brow. “That sounds like a challenge.”
“You’re the one who asked such a ridiculous question.”
He cocks his head, his hair falling over his forehead slightly. It’s the first I’ve seen him like this.
Messy, sleepily sated.
Naked.
He’s even more handsome outside of his suit than he is in it.
He regards me and I swallow my thoughts, anticipating a silky comeback to my remark.
He doesn’t keep me waiting long. “I’ve sat through several breakfasts with you, distantly served you three times as many when you were here the first time, unbeknownst to you. Even when I couldn’t be, I was eating alongside you from a different room, through a screen you didn’t know I was watching you on that did your beauty no justice. All those mornings, not once did you ever choose a food option I would classify as breakfast. You always go for fruits, yogurts, and on the rare occasion, granola, but never once bacon or eggs, pancakes or waffles…not even so much as a pastry. All that said, I can’t count the number of times you have opted for a fresh cappuccino in place of something else, not only at lunch, but dinner as well. Most of those times, fruit was also involved. So, no. The question is not ridiculous. In fact, I’d say it’s the opposite.”
Enzo smiles down at me, a sort of ease on his expression I’ve yet to see, and there’s an air of boyish charm exuding from him he’s never revealed, if he’s even conscious of it.
It’s as if he’s comfortable and this is normal. He stares as if we’re having any other conversation, or as if we’ve had many or any of these moments at all.