I shatter with a cry that he swallows with his mouth, my whole body locking around him, and I feel him still inside me, feel him fighting his own release.
When I come back down he's looking at me with something fierce and possessive in his eyes.
"I didn't come," he says.
"I know." I'm still trying to catch my breath. "Why not?"
"Because I'm not done with you yet." He pulls out and I whimper at the loss, and then his hands are on my hips, flipping me onto my stomach.
"Enzo—"
"On your knees," he says, and his voice has changed, gone rough and commanding and absolutely wrecked.
I get on my knees, my hands braced on the mattress, and he positions himself behind me and pushes in with one hard thrust that makes me cry out.
"Fuck," he groans. “Driving me crazy?—"
He doesn't finish the sentence. He just starts moving and the careful control is gone completely, replaced by something raw and desperate and nearly violent in its intensity.
He grips my hips hard enough to bruise and drives into me over and over and I'm making sounds I've never made before, high and broken and constant.
"You feel so perfect like this," he says through gritted teeth. "Taking everything I give you. Such a good girl for me."
His hand slides up my spine and into my hair, fisting it, pulling my head back, and the sharp pleasure-pain of it sends me careening toward another orgasm I didn't know I had in me.
"I can't—" I gasp. "Oh my goodness, I can't again?—"
"Yes you can." He reaches around and finds my clit with his fingers. "One more, Princess. Give me one more."
He works me with his hand while he drives into me from behind and I'm sobbing with it, with the overwhelming intensity of sensation, with the way my body is responding to him like it was built for exactly this.
"Come with me," he says roughly. "Right now, baby. Come with me."
I come screaming and he follows immediately with a curse and a groan, his hips stuttering, his hand tightening in my hair, and I feel him pulse inside me, feel him fill me, feel him collapse forward over my back with his forehead pressed between my shoulder blades.
We stay like that for a long moment, both trying to remember how breathing works.
Then he pulls out carefully and I collapse onto my side and he's right there, pulling me against him, wrapping himself around me like he can't bear to have any distance between us.
I'm asleep before I can say a word.
I wake to movement.
The room is still dark but there's grey light around the edges of the curtain that means morning is close. Enzo is getting dressed, moving quietly, and when he sees my eyes open he comes back to the bed and sits on the edge of it.
"We need to leave," he says quietly. "It's not safe to stay."
I nod and try to sit up and immediately regret it because every muscle in my body is sore in ways I didn't know were possible.
He sees it in my face and something warm moves through his expression.
"Sore?"
"Very." I push myself up anyway. "It's fine."
"It's not fine. I was too rough at the end."
"I liked it rough at the end." I look at him directly. "All of it. I liked all of it."
