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My breathing speeds, and my heart is frantic. I have to get in and help her, like no one came to help me.
“Stop!” I scream. But they either can’t hear me or don’t care. They keep torturing the woman.
Suddenly, the glass goes dark. I can’t see the woman or men anymore.
“No,” I back away from the glass and start looking for a door. I turn and start running for the door we entered through and run smack into Enzo.
He doesn’t say anything, but his arms wrap tightly around me as he holds me in place. I should feel trapped. His biceps are holding me so tightly, but I don’t feel scared, I feel safe in his arms.
I huff loudly in his strong muscles. My panting slowing with each exhale. My heart flutters hard in my chest, but his is slow and steady, so I focus on matching my breathing and heartbeat to his.
“We have to help her,” I whisper, even though as I say it the words no longer make sense to me.
“She’s not in any danger, baby,” Enzo says, his voice calm with an edge of sadness.
He rubs my back gently, his nails scratching my spine as he moves his fingers under my shirt to brush against my skin.
He presses a button on a remote, and the screen changes from black to the scene again. The woman isn’t being held down any more, and I see the look of euphoria on her face as the men kiss and lick her body.
“She wants them, stingray.”
I watch while Enzo holds me in his arms. He’s right; the woman isn’t in any danger. I projected my own fears onto her.
“I’m sorry,” Enzo says into my hair.
“Why?”
“Because this was a bad idea. You aren’t ready yet. And I definitely shouldn’t have arranged for them to fuck in front of you.”
I don’t answer; I just let Enzo comfort me in his arms. And I watch.
Quickly my fear changes to hot panting. My fear and lust are close together. Milo tied them together. I need to rip them apart. I shouldn’t feel fear when I’m turned on.
But right now I don’t feel fear, only excitement. Enzo may think there is no hope after my overreaction, but there is.
“Kiss me,” I say.
Enzo’s body hardens, but not in the good way. He thinks he needs to put up all his walls to prevent myself from losing control with me.
“Stingray, I don’t think—”
“Kiss me,” I say again before I lose my nerve. “You are right; I need this. I need to move past what Milo did. Now kiss me before I go into that room and have one of those men kiss me instead.”
Provoking Enzo into kissing me works. I stumble backward as his lips devour mine. There is nothing hesitant about his kiss, nothing that says he would rather be kissing any other woman. The kiss is carnal and rough. My lips tingle with each touch of his, and when his tongue slips into my mouth, I gasp like I’ve never been kissed like this before.
Enzo’s hand crawls up my spine, pulling my shirt up with his hand. He grabs my neck and pulls me deeper into his passionate kiss. My hands press against his hard chest. My fingers quickly grip onto his shirt and pull him to me.
The kiss does everything to my body. Turns me on. Takes out my fears. Floods me with pleasure. Spreads a fire through my body that burns out all the pain.
The kiss continues on and on. Each of us taking turns exploring each other’s mouths again, like we are two teenagers making out for the first time. But there is nothing new about this. This kiss is like coming home. With every kiss, I remember every previous kiss. I remember how good each and every one felt.
Our first kiss—the spark that exploded.
The kiss when I realized I loved him—how my heart beat for him.
The kiss when I realized he could never love me back—how I fell apart.
The first kiss after Milo—hope that lifted me up.
