“Don’t tell me what to do,” I mutter. But the defiance is empty; exhaustion is already dragging me under.
The last thing I feel is his fingers weaving through my hair with a gentleness that doesn’t match anything else about him.
I wake to wet heat and suction.
Enzo’s mouth is on my cock, and I’m already hard, throbbing and so sensitive that the first drag of his tongue rips a cry from my throat. My hands fly to his hair, fisting the dark strands before I’m even fully conscious.
“What—” I try to form words, but he hollows his cheeks and sucks, and the thought dissolves into static.
He pulls off my cock with a pop, and looks up at me through thick lashes, lips are swollen and shiny with spit.
“Third wave,” he says, licking the length of my cock. “Easier if you come first.”
Then he swallows me to the root.
I choke on a moan. My hips buck off the bed, shoving my cock deeper into his throat, and he takes it. Takes all of it without gagging.
I’ve never fucked a man’s throat before. Never let anyone close enough for this kind of intimacy. And Enzo is—fuck, he’s good at this. Too good. He knows exactly how much suction makes my thighs tremble, exactly where to press his tongue to make me see white, exactly when to pull back and let me teeter on the edge before dragging me back under again.
He works my cock like we’ve done this a thousand times.
His hands grip my thighs, spreading me wider, holding me open while he devours me. I look down, and the sight of him—this powerful, dangerous man between my legs, with his mouth stretched around my cock—
“Enzo—” His name breaks out of me . “I’m going to—”
He doesn’t pull off. He looks up at me with those dark eyes and takes me deeper. His throat flexes around the head, and I detonate.
The orgasm tears through me like a live wire. I’m coming down his throat in hot, endless pulses, and he swallows every drop, gulping it down without breaking eye contact. He moans around me and the vibration through my cock is almost enough to make me hard again immediately.
Almost.
He finally pulls off and kisses his way up my body. Tongue tracing my hip bone, teeth grazing my ribs, mouth hot and open against my chest. By the time he reaches my lips, I’m a trembling mess.
He kisses me, and I taste myself on his tongue. Salt and musk. The kiss is slow and filthy, his tongue fucking my mouth in a lazy imitation of what’s coming, and it claims me more thoroughly than any kiss ever did.
“Better?” he asks against my lips.
“Worse.” Because it is. This deliberate seduction is worse than the frantic fucking. I can’t dismiss my reaction as just a heat-induced response. Enzo is choosing to pleasure me.Taking his time to make it good for me when he could just take what he wants and leave.
It would be so much easier if he were cruel. If he just used me as a hole to satisfy his lust.
I stop him when he leans in to kiss me again.
“Why are you doing this?”
His brows draw together. “Doing what?”
“This.” I gesture vaguely between us, at the cum still glistening on his lips, at the gentle way he’s caging me with his body. “You could just fuck me and go. You don’t have to—”
“Don’t have to what?” His hand cups my face, thumb brushing my cheekbone. “Make you come so hard you forget you hate me?”
“Stop it, you evil son of a bitch.”
“Evil?” He huffs something close to a laugh. “Maybe.” Then his gaze hardens. “But I’m not a fucking rapist. And if I’m going to fuck you through your heat—if you’re going to hate me for it afterward—then I’m damn well going to make sure every orgasm I give you ruins you for anyone else.”
He reaches for the water, and this time I don’t fight him when he puts the bottle to my lips. I drink until he’s satisfied, throat working around each swallow while he watches me with hungry eyes.
When I’m done, he settles back between my thighs, cock against my entrance, still slick and open from before, and my body clenches greedily.
