Page 27 of Enzo
The sheer white curtains danced in the air as a breeze swept in and air brushed my heated skin, leaving goose bumps in its wake.
I looked around, the outline of the familiar muscular frame standing in the shadows.
“Hello, stranger,” I rasped, my voice soft. “What are you doing here?”
He stepped forward, his hands latching on to me. “I came to make you mine.”
His large hands grabbed my thighs, spread them open, and in one go, he plunged inside me. I moaned, his cock making me feel deliciously full.
He paused, letting me adjust to him, and then he started to move. Hard, punishing thrusts. His sculpted chest hovered over me, the single thorned rose tattoo coated with a sheen of sweat.
“Please… please… more…” My voice cracked with every word as he plunged deeper. My body tightened with each thrust, my whimpers increasing in pitch.
“Your pussy… fuck, it’s made for me, strangling my cock greedily,” he rasped with another thrust. “I could die like this, surrounded by you, and be a happy man.”
A heat in my belly built and built, the sensation fit to burst, when I startled, my eyelids flew open.
I blinked, disoriented, and for a second, I searched the darkness of my room.
Sweat covered my skin, making the sheets stick to me. One strap of my babydoll nightgown had slipped down my arm, leaving my breast exposed. And my panties were… on the floor.
The most shocking part?
My pussy wassoaked. My inner thighs were sticky and glistened with my arousal. My body ached with a need that only one man could satisfy.
I covered myself up, then scooted back against the headboard, pulling my legs to my chest. My eyes darted around the room again, then out through the open balcony beyond, where a moonless sky stared back at me.
Will that be my future?I thought to myself.Dark and lonely while I ache for the one man who can make me come undone?
I thought I’d have a fling and come out unscathed. I was so fucking wrong. The masked stranger remained with me, lurking in the corners of my mind and coaxing me into revisiting every single second ofthatnight.
It was only in the night, within the walls of my bedroom, that I allowed myself to think about him. I often wondered what would happen if I saw him again. So many what-ifs that life would allow me to explore if only I weren’t marrying someone else.
Chasing my silly dreams away with a subtle shake of my head, I carefully stepped out of bed and padded to the bathroom to wash off the evidence of my desire.
Dreaming was for women who weren’t trapped in an arranged marriage.
ENZO
The dream always started the same way.
“It’s time we stopped sharing a room,” I grumbled, staring at the mess scattered all around.
My six-year-old brother stood next to me, his eyes wide. “But why? I like sharing.”
“You’re a mess, Amadeo.” I opened my arms and pointed at the toys covering the rug. “Every time we come back from school, we have to clean our room.”
We went to the same school. I was a year older, so my classes started at eight while his started at nine. You wouldn’t think one hour was enough to pull every single toy out, but it totally was. My brother proved it over and over again.
A light spilled out from under the bathroom door.
“And you left the light on,” I reprimanded.
I stepped forward, bookbag still on my shoulder, and wandered toward the bathroom on the other side of the bedroom. Amadeo was close behind me, huffing and puffing. Whenever I brought up having independent rooms, he’d get upset.
But Father was right: it was inevitable.
My hand on the handle, a faint scent of copper registered as I pushed the door open. I stepped forward, my brother’s body bumping into me as I froze.
