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“Because we’re meant for one another.”
He drives into me, and I lose myself as his strokes hit the magic spot inside my body. “What are you doing to me?”
“Making sure you can’t think of anything except getting my cock inside you.”
He doubles down, making me think he’s taking this thing seriously.
“You ready to admit you’re mine?”
“Uuuh—” He does something with his hips that makes white pricks of light fill my vision. His pelvis grinds against mine as he fucks me harder and deeper and with more confidence than any man ever has.
The universe shivers, and my body begins to shake. “Enzo, have mercy.”
“Sorry, sweetheart. No can do.” He smiles like the devil. “Give me what’s mine.”
Emotions roll over me, quick and sudden, and I feel like my heart is flying outside my body as I dissolve.
“Let go, Abby.” He drives into me again and unleashes even more. My hands slide off his arms, and he drops his head, pressing our foreheads together. “I will always catch you.”
I close my eyes and disappear into the pleasure blackout, knowing my fate is no longer in my hands.
Two hours later, I check the clock and know I should find my way home.”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Enzo says as he hands me a pack of cards. “You promised to teach me some tricks.”
I mindlessly shuffle the deck and tell myself another hour won’t make a difference. My fingers move smoothly, showing off years of practice.
Enzo watches me intently. “You’ve got my full attention,” he says, his voice deep and smooth like the whiskey he’s drinking.
“Really?” I close the robe I’m wearing. “Because my eyes are up here.”
“It’s bad manners to ignore world-class art.”
My face heats with the compliment. “You don’t—”
“I’ve seen most of the world’s masterpieces, and you can’t argue with me.” His smile is playful, so I return my focus to the cards and vow to learn how to take a compliment. “We’ll start with something simple.”
I demonstrate a basic card trick, making a random card seemingly disappear and reappear at will. Enzo’s eyes narrow as he tries to figure it out.
“Damn,” he breathes. “How did you do that?”
“Trade secret,” I wink, privately loving that he’s impressed. “Alright,” I say, suppressing a smile. “I’ll teach you how it’s done.” As I walk him through the trick, I watch him fumble and think of how his strong hands made me feel worshipped.
Duality. This man has it in spades. Despite his power and influence, he is willing to learn from me.
“Your hands are the first thing I noticed about you.”
“That’s surprising.” He passes the deck of cards back. “Most people comment on my tattoos or eyes.”
“Hands tell a story like nothing else can.” I mindlessly reshuffle the cards. “Yours are strong. Nicked with scars. But well kept. Brutal. Unforgiving. Fair. That’s what your hands tell me.”
He takes my hand and lays it inside his. “Powerful. Kind. Patient only when absolutely necessary.”
Surprised by the generous description, I close my eyes, wondering if there’s any way I can walk away from this encounter with my heart intact.
“You’re not the only one who can read the players at the table.”
“Yeah…I’m starting to get that.”
