I gave in, twisted my hips in a small circle, then stuck.
Enzo watched still, then thrust his hips up hard.
Fast, heavy, no warning. I bounced, nearly slid off, fingers clutched his collar to hold.
"You up for this?" he murmured, a hint of disdain.
That yanked me from nerves and shame.
"More than you think, sir."
I shifted, sank lower. Hands slid to his shoulders, fingers gripped. Ass ground hard against his thigh root.
Enzo's breath changed—instantly. That thing pressed my inner thigh.
He was hard.
Conquering a man like him felt like victory. I smirked at him.
"Satisfied? Mr. Falcone?"
Enzo chuckled softly, breath hot on my ear.
"Mediocre."
Next second, he grabbed my nape, yanked me down. Lips crashed—not a kiss, an assault.
Tongue invaded, swept the palate and teeth. Brain blanked, fingers clutched, and I released his shirt. I got sucked into a storm.
I struggled—useless. Twisting made that thing between my legsthrob more. Enzo didn't stop. He yanked my dress neckline, palm covered, hit the spot, and pinched.
I arched sharply, a muffled groan escaped, trapped in his mouth.
"Oh no, Enzo." I gasped his name through lip gaps, begging for air.
He heard, but kept tormenting.
The dress top stretched near breaking. Fabric at limit—one more tug and it'd slip. His hand roamed inside, bolder. Those buttons were doomed.
No, I couldn't let everyone see me half-naked.
I finally shoved him back, a silver thread linking our lips. I wiped my mouth awkwardly, pleaded. "Not in front of them... please."
Enzo's eyes sparked amusement, head turned to the others.
"Out."
They scrambled, the door opened, shut.
Footsteps faded. I dropped my gaze, just us now, still in this intimate pose.
Enzo didn't let go—left hand circled my waist, right on my chest. Thumb traced a tiny circle around my nipple, light but electric. My body tingled from scalp to toes.
He tucked a loose hair behind my ear, fingertip grazed the lobe.
"Want to keep going." Not a question.
"I don't," I said.
