I carry her out of the outbuilding, barely breaking the kiss.
By the time we reach my en-suite, blood streaks the walls and our clothes lie in a trail across the floor. There’s no slow build—just raw, unrelenting need. A reminder we’re still here. Still fighting. Still winning.
38
Worst Night Of My Life
I know that you’re still looking out for me, even if it’s from afar. —Izzy
Izzy
Enzo’spalmrestsonmy thigh as the driver pulls away from the curb. My nerve endings alight at his touch, my body humming with anticipation.
He hits the intercom. “Hey, Rafael, can you drive around the block for an extra thirty minutes.”
Enzo lowers himself into the footwell, hands gliding up my thighs as he pushes my silk dress higher, bunching the fabric at my hips until my panties are exposed.
I hiss when he brushes his nose over the delicate lace, inhaling deeply before lifting his gaze to mine—his eyes dark and hooded. “Your scent is fucking divine, Isolde.”
A whimper escapes me as he slides the lace aside and sinks two fingers inside without warning. There’s no pause, no mercy—his mouth follows instantly, latching onto my clit, tongue swirling with maddening precision.
My hips jolt.
Fingers tangle in his hair, desperate and shaking as I hold him there. He groans into me, the vibration rippling through my core, sending electric pulses up my spine.
His fingers curl, hittingthatspot—thespot—and my eyes roll back as a cry breaks from my lips.
“That’s it,Cuore mio,” Enzo murmurs against me. “Fall apart. I’ve got you.”
Then he’s back at it—ravenous, relentless—devouring me like a starving man tasting his last meal on earth. My head hits the seat as I writhe against his mouth, ringing out every ounce of pleasure from my body.
Before I can catch my breath, Enzo slides back onto the seat beside me, grabbing my hips and pulling me onto his lap—my thighs straddling his.
My movements are clumsy, frantic, as I tug down his zipper, freeing his cock from his briefs and sinking down onto him.
He groans, face buried in my hair. His hips thrust upward as I grind down, and I can’t stop the moans spilling from my lips.
Enzo’s fingers tangle in my hair, tearing through the carefully pinned updo I spent hours perfecting.
I don’t care.
All that matters is the feel of him inside me—the stretch, the way he fills me like he was made for this. Forme.
Without pulling out, Enzo shifts, flipping us so my back hits the seat. He drives into me with brutal, unrelenting thrusts, fucking me until my thoughts vanish and his name tears from my throat in a scream.
He doesn’t stop.
Even as I tremble, my limbs reduced to jelly, he keeps going—ruthless and determined—until he roars, spilling inside me with a shuddering release.
Then—
“We’re here. Also, the mic’s still on. I’ll be ripping out my eardrums now.” Rafael's voice booms through the car's intercom.
Heat rushes to my cheeks as I scramble to make myself presentable.
Enzo moves slowly, calmly, tucking his softening cock back into his pants. His gaze never leaves me as I pull my panties into place. His cum is still dripping from me, trickling down my thighs. His eyes light up. I tug my dress down to cover it—the silk rumpled.
My hair is a disaster. I undo the last of the pins and Enzo reaches over, helping unravel the mess until it falls in waves around my shoulders.
