Page 132 of Enzo

His mouth twitches. “Think you can hold out longer than me?”

Oh.

So that's how he wants to play this.

“You're going to regret challenging me,” I whisper.

“Probably.”

He kisses me again.

And the challenge doesn't last nearly as long as either of us pretends it will.

Soon there is nothing slow or controlled about us. Just heat and hands and kisses and the desperate need to get closer.

When he finally moves over me again, his expression changes. The teasing disappears. He strokes my face, looking directly into my eyes.

This feels like more than sex.

More than wanting.

It's Enzo.

The man who thinks about everything. Plans everything. Controls everything.

And he's looking at me as if, right now, nothing else exists.

I slide my arms around his neck and pull him closer.

“Enzo.”

His tongue sweeps into my mouth, exploring deeply, tenderly. Just then he slides inside me, filling me slowly, completely, taking his time, waiting for me to adjust.

I moan in sweet bliss, my sigh stretching out as he sets up a rhythm. Whatever control either of us had left disappears.

***

I wake up with Enzo's arms wrapped around me.

It feels warm and safe. I gaze up at him to find him sleeping peacefully, his lips pressed gently together. I watch the rise and fall of his chest and snuggle closer.

We made love.

A peculiar little rush goes through me.

I could lie like this forever. Not sleeping, just resting with my eyes closed, aware of his beating heart and his warm arms wrapped around me.

I could get used to this.

Being so ridiculously happy that my heart could burst.

***

I wake up, only this time the bed is empty. I bolt upright to hear clattering in the kitchen.

Enzo.

My heart fills to bursting.