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And as my chest heaves with deep breaths, I wish he would do it again. Make me feel pained pleasure as it courses through my veins. I ache for it. I squeeze my thighs together, the wetness obvious in my panties and I blush at myself.
The song comes to an end, and silence hangs in the air. Without thinking about it too much, I allow my feet to carry me down the hallway to his bedroom. Even though the door is closed, I ignore the fact that he may not want me in his space and push it open.
When I find the room empty, my brows furrow. But then I remember the office I spied a few days ago and head in that direction. The moment my steps hit the threshold, I'm shocked to find Enzo behind his desk, his hand on his thick cock, and his eyes on the door where I'm now standing.
He's not jerking off, just gripping himself as if he knew I was on my way. As if he were watching me all this time. He doesn't say anything, those dark eyes holding me hostage, reeling me deeper into the space.
"What are you doing?" The moment I ask it, I want the ground to swallow me. It's a stupid question because it's clear what he's doing.
"Were you looking for me?" His dark brow arches as he narrows his gaze. The man behind the desk isn't the same one who walked into the apartment earlier. I've not found Enzo my fiancé, I've found the monster who fucked me last night.
Squaring my shoulders for war, I nod. "I was."
"And what would my little dancer like?" The tone of his voice is husky, drenched with desire and lust. The need flickering in his stare has my blood heating and I take a few steps toward the desk.
"Why... Why are you...?" I wave my hand toward him, where he slowly releases his cock. "Were you doing that just to embarrass me?"
"Why would it embarrass you if I were jerking off?" he questions as if he's talking about the weather. "Did you want to do it for me?"
For a moment, I can only stare. There's something devilish in the grin Enzo offers me as he slowly unbuttons his shirt. Once the material flutters over his shoulders, I'm taunted by the smooth, tanned skin. His shoulders are muscular, wide, and his arms are tense when he moves and his belt clinks in the heavy silence of the room. He pushes to his feet and shoves his slacks down his legs.
"Would you be a good girl and kneel for me?" he asks, but it's tinged with danger. I watch as he steps out of his pants, and soon, all I'm looking at is the naked, Greek god of a man that will soon be my husband.
Without a word, I lower to my knees, but I tip my chin up with my shoulders squared as I look up at him from my vantage point. And I must be honest with myself, I've never seen a more beautiful man than Enzo de Rossi.
He moves toward me silently. When he stops inches from me, the hardness that juts from his hips is a hairsbreadth from my lips. I know what he wants. But he doesn't say a word, and he doesn't touch me. So, instead of waiting, I reach for his cock and wrap my hand around the shaft.
A hiss of pleasure escapes his lips when I stroke him. And when my lips wrap around the smooth, velvety head, my tongue laps at the arousal already on his cock. I keep my eyes on him, the power that burns through me at bringing a man like him pleasure makes my body turn hot.
I take him deep. The moment he hits the back of my throat, I choke, the saliva dripping down my chin, and that's when the monster loses control. His hands fist in my hair, his fingers gripping the strands, tugging until tears fill my eyes.
His dark stare locks on me. His focus is on his pleasure, and I'm merely the receptacle. He uses my mouth, pulling his cock free before thrusting along my tongue until he hears the soft gagging sounds which makes him smile.
"Such a good fucking girl," he hisses through clenched teeth. His hold on me is harsh, but I welcome the bite of pain. My leotard is soaked with spit, my nipples are hard against the material, and my panties are now drenched with my own arousal. When Enzo pulls free from my lips with a loud pop, the strings of saliva that connect us are what makes him chuckle. "My messy girl."
He tugs me to my feet, before spinning me around to face his desk. Behind me, his hand pushes down on my back lowering me front first, over the smooth mahogany veneer. The coolness of the wood causing goose bumps to rise on my skin.
