Page 37 of Daring Enzo

I put the wine glass on the table, so I don’t break it. My jaw clenches painfully as I try to shake off the tightness in my chest. Why won’t she just let this go? After the last time we’d discussed this, I’d hoped it’d never come up again; it isn’t a topic I’m comfortable discussing. I turn away, staring at the wine glass so she won’t see how angry I’m.

“Why do you want to talk about this? I’ve told you I don’t want to…” I say, my voice is raspy as it pushes past my clenched throat. I glare at her without really meaning to. The memories in my head shake off the relief I’ve been feeling since she forgave me.

She looks at me in utter shock. Her lips shook slightly. She stares at the glass of wine in her hand, and much like me, she drops it on the table.

“There’s so much I don’t know about you. I just believe it’ll bring us closer,” she asserts. Her voice is small, her lips drooping. She’s sad, and I wish there was something I could do about it, but I can’t. I can’t do the one thing she keeps asking for.

“We’re already close enough,” I snap. She jerks back in shock. I reach out to her but think better of it at the last second. I didn’t intend for my voice to come out as sharp as it did, but I can’t take it back.

Shit! Not again.

I can’t ruin this only minutes after apologizing; but from the way she edges away from me and wraps her hand around herself, if I don’t remedy things, it might become irreparable. I don’t want to lose her over this.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you. I don’t like talking about the bad stuff,” I say, moving closer. “There is some things I’d rather keep buried because they hurt so much. I’m just not ready to speak of them yet.”

Her eyes fill with pity as she watches me, but she doesn’t say a word.

“Some things I’d prefer to just let be. I just got you back and don’t want to ruin a good day with sad talks. Why don’t we just continue having fun and enjoying each other’s company?”

I wait for her to speak, but it takes a while before it happens. She takes a sip of wine, her eyes closing as she inhales deeply, but then she nods.

“Okay, sure. I’m sorry I brought it up again after you told me not to the last time,” she admits. She picks at the rest of the meal on her plate, the earlier gusto disappearing.

I sigh as we sit quietly. Although she says it’s fine, I know she’s questioning my refusal to tell her this one piece of information she seems to be on the hunt for… even though it’s the last thing I want to talk about.

The fact she continues to bring it up irritates me, but I do my best not to show it. The last thing I want is to take this further and ruin any chance I have of fixing this. I look at her blank face as she sits there with no expression in her eyes, and my hands clench in fists. What if the reason she’s hellbent on finding out what happened with Mom is because Alessia put her up to this?

It’s common knowledge to my father and me that Alessia knows nothing about what truly happened, save for what we have told her. She’d asked so many times in the past and every single time, Dad had clamped down, choosing to stay mute on the topic with me doing the same.

Although I wish we could give her what she wants, it’s better she doesn’t know as it’ll only hurt her and make her feel the same way we do. I’ll have to confront her on this and make sure to tell her to never bring it up again.

“How about we wash the dishes? Then we can just relax and maybe have some fun,” I suggest, already getting up to pick up the plates.

The soft padding of her footsteps follows me in the kitchen. I set the plates in the sink and washed them. She rinsed, wiping them dry before setting them on the rack. I dry my hands after the wine glasses are taken care off and go stand beside her, kissing the back of her neck.

Despite the tension in the air, she responds to my touch just as quickly as always.

“I’m sorry, this topic always drives a wall between us. I wish I could tell you all about it,” I apologize again, my voice softer. I hold her hands in mine, bringing them to my lips to kiss her fingers, one after the other.

Her eyes flicker to mine, her breath shuddering. She stands on tiptoes and presses her lips to mine in a provocative kiss. My hands wrap around her waist like they were meant to be there. I pull her closer to me; the taste of wine on her lips is more intoxicating than anything I’ve ever tasted. Her soft moans cause my cock to stiffen painfully in my pants. I press her against the sink, my hands grazing her soft flesh.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I grit out as I step back to take a look at her with her skirts bunched up at the waist, her chest heaving heavily and her eyes half-mast, looking at me with so much lust.

I groan, wanting nothing more than to fuck her until my seeds empty inside of her, and I fulfill hers as well. She smiles and kisses me just as I turn. Her back is to me. I bend her over and go down on my knees, kissing her exposed cunt. I slurp it in my mouth, greedy for her cum and the sounds of pleasure escape her parted lips.

I stand back up and unzip my pants, letting them slide down as I enter her warmth from behind. Teeth grinding, I slowly move in and out as she rolls her hips, pushing against me. With gritted teeth, I pulled out of her and picked her up, staring at her puzzled face as she instinctively wrapped her legs around my waist.

“I want to see your face when you give in to your pleasure and cum,” I say, placing her on the counter.

I angle her until her butt hangs over the counter’s edge and slips inside her once again, pounding in her wetness. Her hands tighten around my neck as she moans, her pleasure pulling me ever close to the edge.

“Fuck, I’m cumming,” she cries in my ears as tightens even further around me. I angle myself, rolling my hips as I drive her toward an orgasm.

She groans, milking me. I let go, spilling my juices inside of her, my breath catching in my throat.

“I’ll never tire of having sex with you,” I say, kissing her on the lips before picking her up from the counter and heading toward the bedroom.

15

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