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I knew what he wanted. Whenever he was stressed or frustrated, he wanted to bury those feelings inside me. Did I want it? Yes. Did I want him to just go fuck himself instead? Also yes.
I followed him to the bedroom, staying steps behind him as I contemplated what to do and whether I was willing to give my body to him again. He didn’t fucking deserve it, but neither did I. He led me to his bathroom and leaned against the counter.
“Get in the shower,” he said with a husky voice that gave me no room to argue. Though I'd still try. He brushed a muddy hand through his hair.
“I’m not getting naked in front of you like this.” I cocked my hip and rested my hand on it.
Without dropping his gaze, he began to unbutton his dress shirt, the muscles rippling beneath the taut skin of his stomach. The edge of a tattoo peeked from his side. My mouth unintentionally fell open and stayed that way. His fierce blue eyes remained trained on me as he unholstered his revolver and let his pants fall to the ground. There he stood in front of me, his erection painfully obvious through his boxers. I saw the contours of his head, thick and throbbing, through the thin fabric.
“Get undressed. I won’t ask again.” He placed the revolver on the marble countertop, his hand hovering over it.
I shook my head, backing up until I met the wall. He grabbed his gun, cocked it, and walked toward me to confront my refusal. He pressed the barrel against my head, the cool metal giving me goosebumps. I shivered down to my very core. It should have scared me, but it excited me. My life was in his hand, and a slight movement of his finger could end it.
I had no choice but to trust him. I looked up at him and took in a sharp breath.
He pressed the barrel into my skin. “Giovanna.” He said my name in a harsh way that forced me to listen.
I bit my lip as I grabbed the bottom of my shirt, shrugging away from him as I lifted it over my head. He growled when he saw I wasn’t wearing a bra and lowered the barrel, letting it run slowly between my breasts.
“Fuck, babygirl,” he said before kissing me with a roughness that felt familiar. Full of hatred and lust.
That was how he used to call me babygirl.
He dipped the barrel into my waistband and gripped my ass roughly with his free hand before pulling my pants down my thighs. Enzo rubbed the gun between my legs, against the silk of my soaked panties.
“I need these off,” he commanded, the gun rubbing back and forth between my thighs. I slid my pants off the rest of the way. “Good girl,” he whispered.
With a movement of his thumb, he uncocked the revolver and set it on the counter. His fingers hooked into the sides of my panties, pulling them down with hunger in his eyes. His lips found mine for a quick moment while he pulled his boxers down, leaving me wanting more. He stood in front of me, so hard that it made me weak. With a hand wrapped around himself, he tipped his chin toward the shower.
Steam billowed up and fogged the mirror when I turned on the shower. I stepped beneath the water, closed the glass door, and let the heat wash my sins away. The brown and red remnants swirled around the drain. With my eyes still shut, I heard the door open and close. Enzo stepped in front of me. I looked at him, watching water droplets fall onto him and roll off his defined cheekbones. He brushed my hair back and fisted a handful of it.
“Are you going to fuck me?” I asked with a nervous bite of my lip.
“Nah,” he said with a sadistic smile. “I prefer to just fuck with ya.”
My stomach tightened. “Are we really back to this?”
“I don’t trust you, Giovanna.” Despite the warmth surrounding us, his words held an icy edge. “And honestly, you don’t deserve it.”
Maybe he was right, but it didn’t sting any less. With an annoyed snap in every motion, I grabbed the shampoo and washed my hair, ignoring him and his fierce stare. My cheeks flushed with heat as my eyes wandered to where he stroked himself. “You aren’t being fair. I can’t touch my—”
Enzo pinned me to the wall. His hand dropped and palmed my pussy. “You can’t touch yourself because I’ll be the only one making you come,” he said with a smirk.
I can play this game, too, motherfucker.
We finished letting the tales of tonight wash away and stepped out of the shower. Enzo tossed a towel at me. He was excited the entire time, and he had to be getting sick of it. I’d never quite wanted something as badly as I did right then, and I physically ached for him.
“You really aren’t going to fuck me?” I asked as he started to put on a fresh pair of boxers.
He looked up at me as he balanced on one leg, a grin creeping across his face. “Nope.” He pulled up the boxers, which only highlighted his erection.
Come the fuck on!
He stepped closer and grazed my chin with a forefinger. “I’ll fuck you when I’m good and ready. WhenIwant it, not you. Though, if you want, you can suck my dick.” He cocked an eyebrow and touched himself.
I looked at him with a heated expression. Of course I wanted to suck his dick, but not when he played fucking mind games.
“Fuck you, Enzo,” I snapped before turning to leave his room.
