We both knew the lie.
Enzo didn't argue—proved it with action. His hands slipped under my skirt. Inside, it was a hot, wet mess, broadcasting my bluff.
"Looks like the little liar needs punishment."
Enzo bucked his hips, intent clear.
"Suck me."
I hesitated, my heart pounding like a war drum in my chest. The room felt smaller now, just us, the air thick with whiskey and that damn cigar smoke clinging to everything. Enzo's eyes bored into mine, dark and unyielding, like he owned every inch of me already. And hell, maybe he did in this twisted moment.
I slid off his lap, knees hitting the plush carpet with a soft thud. My hands trembled as I reached for his belt, the leather cool against myfingers. I fumbled the buckle, the metal clinking softly, then tugged the zipper down. His pants parted, and there he was—hard, thick, straining against the fabric of his boxers. I hooked my fingers in the waistband and pulled them down, freeing him. He sprang out, heavy and veined, the tip already glistening with pre-cum.
Fuck, he was big. Bigger than I remembered from that frantic day in the office. I wrapped my hand around the base, feeling the heat pulse under my palm. Enzo didn't say a word, just watched me with that predatory stare, his chest rising and falling a little faster now.
I leaned in, breath ghosting over him first. He twitched in my grip. Then I parted my lips, tongue flicking out to taste the salty bead at the head. Enzo's thigh tensed under my other hand, but he stayed silent, letting me set the pace—for now.
I took him in slowly, inch by inch, my mouth stretching around his girth. The taste of him filled me—musky, masculine, mixed with a hint of soap from earlier. I hollowed my cheeks, sucking gently as I bobbed down, then up, building a rhythm. My tongue swirled along the underside, tracing the vein that throbbed there. He was so damn hard, like velvet over steel, and every time I pulled back, I felt him swell a bit more.
Enzo's hand found the back of my head, fingers threading into my hair. Not pushing yet, just guiding. "Deeper," he murmured, voice rough, like gravel. I obliged, relaxing my throat to take more of him. The head hit the back, and I gagged slightly, eyes watering, but I didn't stop. I wanted this—wanted to make him lose that iron control.
I picked up speed, hand stroking what my mouth couldn't reach. Saliva slicked him, making it easier to glide. Enzo's hips bucked subtly, fucking into my mouth now, his grip tightening in my hair. Low groans escaped him, vibrations I felt more than heard. "That's it," he growled. "Suck it like you mean it."
I did. I sucked harder, tongue pressing flat against him on the upstroke, then swirling on the down. My free hand cupped his balls, rolling them gently, feeling them draw up tight. He was close—I could tell by the way his abs clenched, the way his breathing turned ragged. But he held back, drawing it out, making me work for it.
Minutes stretched, my jaw aching, lips swollen. I glanced up through my lashes, meeting his eyes. They were hooded, dark with lust, but still that smirk lingered, like he was enjoying the power play. I hummed around him, the vibration making him hiss. "Fuck," he bit out, finally losing a sliver of composure.
I pushed deeper, nose brushing his pubic bone, throat working around him. He throbbed, hot and insistent, and I knew he was right on the edge. But then his hand yanked me back, popping him free from my mouth with a wet sound. Strings of saliva connected us, and I gasped for air, chest heaving.
"Not yet," Enzo said, voice strained but commanding. He stood, pulling me up with him, then spun me around so my back pressed to his chest. His hands roamed, one sliding under my skirt again, the other yanking the top of my dress down fully. My breasts spilled out, nipples hard and aching from earlier teasing.
He shoved me forward, bending me over the arm of the sofa. The leather was cool against my overheated skin. Enzo kicked my legs apart, wider, exposing me. His fingers delved between my thighs, finding me soaked, clit swollen and begging. "So wet," he muttered, almost to himself. "You love this, don't you?"
I whimpered, pushing back against his hand. He chuckled low, then two fingers plunged inside me, curling just right to hit that spot. I cried out, walls clenching around him. He pumped them in and out, slow at first, building pressure. His thumb circled my clit, relentless, sending sparks shooting through me.
"Oh god," I moaned, hips rocking to meet his thrusts. The wet sounds filled the room, obscene and hot. Enzo's other hand pinched my nipple, twisting just enough to sting, blending pain with pleasure. I was dripping now, coating his fingers, the ache building fast.
He added a third finger, stretching me, fucking me harder. My knees buckled, but he held me up, arm banded around my waist. "Come for me," he ordered, voice like silk over steel. "Let me feel it."
I shattered. The orgasm hit like a wave, crashing over me, body convulsing as I clenched around his fingers. Stars burst behind my eyelids, pleasure ripping through every nerve. I screamed his name,muffled against the sofa cushion, waves pulsing until I was spent, trembling.
But Enzo didn't stop. He withdrew his fingers, slick and shiny, and brought them to my lips. "Taste yourself," he said. I sucked them clean, salty and tangy, still floating in aftershocks.
He pulled back, wiping his hand on my thigh. "Not bad," he said, but his voice held an edge. "But I'm not done. You haven't made me come yet."
Before I could catch my breath, he grabbed my hips, hauling me upright. My legs were jelly, but he maneuvered me effortlessly. He sat back on the sofa, pulling me between his thighs. "Straddle one leg," he commanded, eyes gleaming with dark intent.
I did, swinging one leg over his right thigh, the other planted on the floor. My core pressed against the hard muscle of his leg, still sensitive from my climax. Enzo gripped my ass, guiding me to grind down. His cock, still rock-hard and slick from my mouth, slotted between my thighs as I squeezed them together.
"Thigh fuck me," he growled. "Make it good."
I started moving, sliding my slick folds along his thigh while my inner thighs hugged his length. The friction was intense—his cock trapped, rubbing against my skin with each rock of my hips. Enzo thrust up, meeting my movements, grunting low. His hands dug into my flesh, bruising, urging me faster.
Sweat slicked us both. My breasts bounced with the rhythm, nipples grazing his shirt. He leaned forward, capturing one in his mouth, sucking hard, teeth grazing. I gasped, the sensation shooting straight to my core. I was building again, clit grinding against his thigh, but this was for him.
Enzo's breaths came shorter, hips snapping harder. "Tighter," he demanded. I clenched my thighs, trapping him in that vice of soft flesh. He groaned, head falling back, veins in his neck standing out. The room smelled of sex now—sweat, arousal, us.
I rolled my hips, adding twists, feeling him pulse between my legs. His cock wept pre-cum, lubing the slide. Enzo's control frayed—hands roaming, one slipping back to finger me again while I ground. "Fuck, yes," he rasped. "Just like that."
