Slowly shutting my eyes, I remembered the last time he’d touched me like this. How it’d lit up my body in ways I didn’t know existed.
“Spread them for me, my sweet Fawn,” he ordered.
My legs parted on command.
He dragged the blanket off me, then shoved the T-shirt up until it bunched beneath my breasts.
The sheets were soft against my skin as I writhed beneath him. I entered a different world when he shifted my panties to the side and slid his finger between my folds. As badly as I hated to admit it, nothing ever felt as good as when Enzo touched me.
It was like hearing music for the first time and not being punished for it.
My first taste of ice cream.
The day I was told I’d finally be free of my prison.
All of them belonged on the short list of things that would always mean happiness to me.
Enzo settled himself better between my legs, and his cock brushed my inner thighs. My muscles tensed as he gripped the base of his cock, slowly stroking himself.
I hadn’t seen many cocks, but his was definitelythe biggest.
When I’d first gained freedom and access to the internet, I’d looked up porn out of curiosity more than anything. In college, people talked about it constantly—Pornhub, OnlyFans, even videos they made in their dorms.
The bed shifted as he moved closer, putting his weight on one hand outside my thighs, and he brought his cock toward my core.
His grip was strong as he ran the head over my clit, nudging the tip against it. My knees shifted up, my heels digging into the bed, my body tingling.
I ran my tongue along the inside of my teeth at the way his mouth drifted open at the pleasureIwas giving him.
I wanted to plead for more. To plead for less. My mind was playing whiplash with me, the need for pleasure overtaking any rationality.
The bedframe shook when I heaved forward, pulling the handcuff with me. I’d forgotten about the damn thing. It bit deep into my skin, and I knew it’d leave a mark.
“Fuck it,” Enzo snapped, suddenly pulling away from me.
All the air escaped my lungs as I stared at him, confused, while he scooted away from me, taking that cock I was silently pleading for from where I needed it most. He bent down, his head disappearing, and when he returned, the key was in his hand.
His grip was tight when he snatched my arm and freed me from the cuff. My arm felt like Jell-O as it dropped.
With his head now only inches from mine, I stared at the man who was dragging me down to hell with him.
Cupping my hand around his chin, I held him there in place, waiting for his reaction as I took in the beauty of my tormentor.
His eyes shut as I ran my thumb along the rigid lines of his face.
Our breathing matched, pant for pant, and the weight of the devil weighing down my body felt like the very place he’d been kicked out of. I feathered my finger over his cheek to his lower lip.
That was when he jerked back, as if, for a moment, he’d broken out of his armor and suddenly needed to put it back on.
With a snarl, he wrenched himself away from me. Our eye contact fractured like the halo on his chest. I gasped as he snatched my wrists, pinned them to the bed, and flattened his body hard against mine.
His cock was caught between our bodies, rubbing against my center. I moaned when he rammed his hips against the mattress, nearly pushing me through it.
One of his hands left my wrist, and he flexed it around my jaw.
“Don’t fucking touch me unless I tell you to,” he said through a hiss.
He dug his fingers into my skin until I flinched, then inched back down my body, making himself comfortable between my legs.
