Page 51 of Enzo DeLuca

“Shouldn’t I be washing your back?” She tried to change the subject.

“Not yet,” he told her, taking a step back. He turned the shower off and then faced her. “I want to finish listening to your body.”

She had no idea what he was talking about. How could staring at her be called listening to her body? His heated gaze roamed over her flesh. A shiver raced down her spine as she resisted the urge to shield her nakedness from his gaze. He’d caught on to the fact that she was shy when it came to intimacy.

But he should also know that she was petty as fuck and didn’t like feeling at a disadvantage. Pushing her shoulders back, she met his dark gaze. No more Ms. Nice Eve. If he wanted to play dirty, then she’d play. Since he’d promised not to touch her without her permission, this was going to hurt him more than it would hurt her.

“Are you done listening to my body?” she asked.

“Not yet.” He stepped forward again, then dropped to his knees in the shower.

All of the oxygen left her body. Like, it all evaporated. There was none left. If she didn’t find any soon, she was probably going to suffocate. Eve held herself completely still as he leaned forward until his nose was damn near touching her clit. And then the motherfucker inhaled deeply.

Embarrassment flooded her system. What the hell was he doing? She wanted to shove him away. Yet, another part of her wanted to pull him closer. Those conflicting emotions were warring within her as he shivered. Wait, did he just groan? Did the scent of her pussy cause this motherfucker to groan?

If her pussy could talk, it would be telling him how much it wanted him right now. Luckily, pussies didn’t have lips. Wait, yes, the fuck they did. And hers wanted to have a private conversation with him. His closeness was making her lose her damn mind. Though she was standing completely still, every nerve ending in her body was racing towards him, wanting to be closer to him.

Her skin was prickling. Her body was protesting, upset with her for not letting this man do whatever he wanted to her. And the smile on his face told her that he could sense all of that. But how? Was he a pussy-whisperer or something? Eve told herself to be brave. She’d gone up against men bigger and badder than him. She would not fold under his gaze.

“Your pussy is talking to me,” he told her.

“What is it saying?” she asked, mostly to fill the silence.

“It’s telling me it’s hungry.” He stood up.

“Hungry?”

“For dick.”

Arousal flooded her system as her pussy nodded in agreement with his assessment.

“Your turn,” he told her.

“My turn for what?”

“Listen to my body. Tell me what it’s saying.”

“I’ll pass.”

“Scared ass.”

Offended, she told him, “I may be a lot of things, but scared will never be one of them.” She’d learned early in life that fear was just an emotion, like any other. Being afraid didn’t change outcomes. But pushing fear aside could bring about change.

“Prove it,” he told her. “Tell me what my body is saying.”

He was trying to make her uncomfortable. Fuck that.

“Okay. I’ll listen,” she agreed.

He took a step back.

“Where are you going?” She grabbed his cock and pulled him closer.

He sucked in a deep breath. His eyes widened, shock registering in his gaze. She gave him atwo can play this gamelook as he exhaled slowly.

“How can I listen to your body if you’re that far away?” she asked sweetly.

“Eve...” he growled.

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