“All that attitude,” he says, voice merciless, “all that sharp tongue—and the second I touch you, you turn soft. Obedient. My perfect little Angel on her knees.”
His fingers work me harder, pressing just shy of where I need him most. My body arches, desperate, chasing more, but he controls the pace. He always does. He leans in, lips grazing the shell of my ear, his breath hot enough to sear.
“Use your words, baby. Tell me what you need.”
“I want you,” I whisper, too breathless to hold steady.
He smacks my ass hard, the crack echoing, the sting sharp enough to make me jolt.
“Not good enough,” he growls, rough satisfaction in every syllable. “Say it like you mean it.”
The burn of his palm fades into heat that coils lower, arousal licking up my spine until I’m trembling, cheeks hot, pride gone.
“I want you to fuck me.” I gasp, the words ripped from me. “Hard.”
He groans, raw and feral. “That’s my girl.”
The blunt head of his cock drags against me, thick and demanding, and then he’s inside—no teasing, no pause. His hands lock around my hips, spreading me wide as he drives in deep.
“Fuck,” he grits out, the sound ragged. “You were made for this cock. Made to take me. Made to be filled by me.”
I cry out, fists knotted in the sheets, the stretch toe-curling, brutal in the best way. I’ve felt him before, every inch, every stroke—but this? This is deeper. Wilder. He stays buried to the hilt, pulsing, making sure I feel every bit of him before he moves.
His palm slides up my spine in a languid stroke. Then he pullsback and slams in, the thrust savage enough to knock the air from my lungs. “Tell me who you belong to,” he growls.
My voice fractures, breathless and undone. “I’m yours.”
Another sharp slap to my ass, the sting ricocheting down my thighs. “Louder.”
“I’m yours!” I cry out, the words raw, broken, true.
His rhythm builds—deep, ruthless strokes that make the bedframe quake, my body straining to keep up. He fists my hair, tugging until my back arches, until he has me bent exactly how he wants.
“That’s it. Show me that perfect ass. Take every inch of me.”
I moan shamelessly, clinging, every thrust a brand burned into my skin. The sound of skin on skin cracks through the room, violent and beautiful.
“Look at you,” he snarls, voice rough with pleasure. “Taking it like you were built to be bred.”
The words detonate inside me, pulling me tighter around him, my body trembling.
“You want it?” he rasps, hips hammering into me. “Want me to fill you so deep you’ll be dripping with me after?”
“Yes,” I gasp, wrecked. “God, yes.”
Another smack lands, hard and perfect. “Not until you come for me, Angel. Come for me and I’ll give you what you want.”
I shatter, my orgasm tearing through me in a violent rush, a scream breaking loose as my body clenches around him. Enzo drives into me one last brutal time and follows, hips jerking as he spills deep, groaning my name like it’s a vow.
For a long beat, the only sound is our breathing—harsh, ragged, desperate. My body trembles, every nerve still lit with aftershocks.
He leans over me, lips dragging down the curve of my spine, his voice a possessive rasp against my skin. “You feel that? The way you’re still gripping me, still milking every drop? That’s your body knowing exactly who it belongs to.”
A whimper escapes me, wrecked and pliant, as he presses a kiss to my shoulder. “I’ll spend my life proving it to you,” he says against my skin. “Every night. Every day. Until there’s no breath left in me.”
And in that moment—claimed, filled, worshipped—I know I’m completely his.
She’s perchedon the counter when I walk in, bare legs swinging. Grease-stained pizza box at her side, crust dangling from her fingers. She takes a bite, moans like it’s the best thing she’s tasted in her life.
