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He pulls my hands behind my back as if I’m tied up.
“And then I pulled the truth from her with lies,” he whispers into my ear.
I hear his pants going down.
“But I tell you when I’m lying, and when I’m telling the truth. And I don’t plan on speaking much longer. I plan on fucking you until you fear me again. Until you want nothing to do with me. Until you run away, because now that I’ve let the monster free, he won’t go away. Not without a fight. And you will get hurt in the meantime.”
And then, we are falling. Down into the fucking ocean. To the place Enzo still thinks I fear. But I don’t. I don’t fear the ocean, especially not with Enzo wrapped around me.
The water is the same temperature as my skin, which means it must feel cold to Enzo. The surface of the water consumes me in one gulp. The impact of the water separates us for a second as we become submerged under the water.
I open my eyes, knowing the salt water will sting, but I don’t care. I want to see him.
And when I do, it feels like magic. Like we are the only two people left in the world swimming in the depths of the ocean. Enzo’s eyes meet mine, open just as wide despite the pain, and I see everything—the pain, the fear, the love.
He’s as scared to love me as I am to love him.
But we don’t live our lives letting fear win.
It’s more than the dread controlling his love. At least it’s not his fear, but his fear for me. All those he loves end up hurt by him or his enemies.
Liesel is the latest casualty. He didn’t physically hurt her, but he still caused her pain her even after promising he never would.
I know. I know you can’t love me.
And then we both break the surface, breathing in air we both desperately need.
We don’t connect immediately, the connection we had under the water was enough to overwhelm both our senses.
And suddenly just as fast as we took the dive into the water, Enzo is upon me, running his hands over my naked wet body.
“You really aren’t afraid?” he asks. His question has a double meaning. Am I afraid of the water? Am I afraid of loving him?
“No, I’m not afraid of the water,” I say, because the other question I’m terrified of.
He nods, understanding.
My legs go around his waist as his cock presses between my legs begging to be let in.
I want nothing more than to let him in, but fucking in the ocean, as romantic as it sounds, is very difficult to actually do. I want to press my lips to his, but I realize from his expression he still won’t let me. He doesn’t want to let me all the way in. So I’m left clinging to him with my body, hoping it’s enough for him to feel the emotions I reaching out for him.
“We have to swim,” he says suddenly.
“What?”
He laughs, realizing I haven’t noticed our predicament. He nods in the direction behind me. I turn and realize the yacht has continued moving away from us.
Shit.
But why, despite my brain fearing the yacht stranding us in the middle of the ocean, does my heart not care? Because I’m with Enzo.
Enzo reads my mind.
“Swim, we will figure the rest out later,” he says.
He waits, and I start doing the breaststroke, not sure if it will be enough to catch up to the yacht, but surely someone will notice us both missing soon and stop the yacht or turn it around to search for us.
I swim hard with Enzo by my side. And I swear the only thing missing from my perfect piece of heaven would be if some dolphins came up next to us and started swimming, leading us back.
