“Fuck yes.” His hand slides between us, finding my clit, and I jolt at the contact. “I like knowing that you want me.”
“I want you so much.” My movements stutter as he circles my clit. The pressure builds impossibly higher. My thighs tremble. My breathing goes ragged. “Enzo, it’s too much.”
His other hand grips my hip, helping me maintain the rhythm. “Stop thinking. Just feel.”
“Enzo!” His name is a prayer, a plea.
“Right there. You’re so close, I can feel it.” His words wash over me, pushing me higher. “Come for me. Come on my cock. I want to feel you!”
The orgasm slams into me. Every muscle goes rigid. My head falls back as a cry tears from my throat, raw and unrestrained. I pulse around him in waves, each contraction pulling him deeper, and the pleasure is almost too intense to bear. His name falls from my lips like a mantra while he works me through it, his fingers never stopping their perfect rhythm.
Before I’ve even finished, I feel him pull me down hard, burying himself deep. He shudders and groans my name. I feel him pulsing inside me, and it triggers another smaller wave that makes me gasp.
“Fuck. Fuck, Remy—” His grip on my hips is almost painful, but I don’t care.
When we can both breathe again, when the tremors fade to occasional aftershocks, I realize he’s still holding me like I might disappear.
I shift slightly, wincing. “Enzo. You’re crushing me.”
Worth it, though.
“Sorry.” He loosens his grip but doesn’t let go. “Sorry, I just?—”
“It’s okay.” I cup his face, making him look at me. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Something cracks open in his expression—vulnerability I’ve never seen before.
He pulls me down for a kiss that’s completely different from before. This one is slow, thorough, and tender. This kiss promises things I’m not sure either of us is ready to say out loud.
When we break apart, I collapse against his chest. His arms wrap around me, holding me close while our hearts slow. I can feel him smile against my hair.
We stay tangled together for long minutes, the fogged windows gradually clearing to reveal the empty parking lot and the lake in front of us. Finally, I lift my head and look at him. His hair is a mess from my fingers, his lips are swollen, and I can see the marks my nails left on his shoulders.
He’s never looked more beautiful.
“We should probably get dressed before someone drives by and gets an eyeful,” I tell him.
He laughs, the sound rough and satisfied. “Probably.”
But neither of us moves. I trace the tattoos on his chest with gentle fingers, taking my time to explore each pattern.
I meet his eyes. “Thank you. For today. For letting me see this side of you.”
He cups my face in his hands. “Thank you for not running when I showed it to you.”
“I’m done running. From you, from your brothers, from all of this. I want to see where it goes.” The words spill out before I can stop them.
Fear flickers across his features, then something that looks like hope. “Even though it’s complicated?”
“Especially because it’s complicated.” I grin. “I like a challenge.”
He kisses me again, softer this time. A promise.
“We should get back.” I sigh against his mouth. “Before your brothers send out a search party.”
“Let them worry.” He pulls me closer. “Just a few more minutes.”
I settle against his chest, feeling safe and claimed and terrified all at once.
