Page 131 of Enzo

Covered in my juices.

“Lie back,” he says, softly.

I do. I’d do whatever he asked me to.

He lies by my side, on his side, while I’m flat on my back. His hands slide lightly all over me, like he’s touching something fragile. Every now and then he looks at me. I can barely talk. My breathing turns heavy as his presses gentle kisses along my skin. My breasts, and stomach, and waist and thighs.

“Enzo…”

He caresses and strokes me the way I’ve never been touched before.

“I could come from this,” I blurt out as I lay writhing to his touch. He seems to enjoy this, watching my pleasure as he slowly gives it to me.

“Then come.I want to watch you.”

My lips part and I groan as he slides his finger inside me and hooks it. A low, dirty mewl falls from my mouth. He slides in another finger before latching his mouth to my pebbled breasts and sucks hungrily.

I start to pant, sweat lining my neck, my chest, as heat lances through me. I reach down for his manhood, overcome by an overwhelming desire that consumes me. I run my finger over his tip, hear him growl, and stroke with an urgency.

I need this.

He moves away.

“Enzo.” I sound desperate, because I am. I need him inside me.

He waves his hands at me helplessly. “I don't have any condoms.”

I bolt upright, then roll onto my side and pull a new pack from my bedside cupboard.

“I do.” Not that I get to use them much, but it’s good to be prepared.

Enzo takes them and grins. “Fruit flavored?”

“I like the colors.”

He laughs, takes one out, then sheaths himself. I lick my lips, watching him.

Desperate for him.

He rolls over me, supporting his weight on his elbows, and kisses me slowly, but nstead of giving me what I want, he takes his time.

Excruciatingly so.

His mouth moves over me gently, kissing my neck, my ears, my chest, my stomach, until I'm squirming beneath him.

“I need you,” I whisper.

“I know.”

“Now, Enzo.”

“Slow.” His mouth brushes mine. “Let's take it slow.”

I make a sound of protest, but he smiles against my lips. His kisses slowly become deeper, more demanding. Every time I think he's finally going to give me what I want, he changes course, his mouth and hands exploring me until I'm almost delirious with frustration.

I reach for his manhood, but he catches my hand. “No.”

My eyes narrow. “No?”