Page 41 of Enzo
“That’s what I’m trying to do,” he says on a gasp, as I get my knees under me and thrust inside him all the way.
It’s weird, and awkward at first, doing this without two full legs, but we figure it out, Kail soft and gentle as he encourages me, hands pulling at flesh, guiding me where he wants me.
I kiss him, one hand landing on the bed beside his head, the other holding his hip up to where I can get the best angle to fuck into him over and over again.
“Fuck, baby. Yes!” he cries out, hand flying to his dick as I sit back and pull him to me, getting in deeper.
“Get yourself off, K,” I tell him with a groan.
He fucks himself on me at the same pace he strokes himself, his ass tightening as his eyes close and he throws his head back, coming with a shout.
Fuck. Grabbing his hips, I pull him down on me, holding him there as I come inside him.
Kail gasps and throws his arms around my neck, hanging on for dear life as our bodies shake with the force of coming together, and our breathing begins to slow.
He slips off my cock as it softens, and I mourn the loss of him, but the feel of him in my arms means more than sex.
“I hope you locked the door,” he says against my throat.
I laugh and then groan. “I did not. If Doc decides to walk in right now, though, I’ll fucking shoot him…after asking James for his gun.”
Kail laughs. He pulls back and frames my face with his hands. “I love you, Enzo. So much.”
“Even when I’m a dumbass?”
“Yes, because you’remydumbass.”
I snort but kiss him, feeling…lighter and more myself than I have in a long time, maybe even since before the accident.
“I asked Dr. Madison to write me that prescription for the antidepressants,” I tell him when the kiss breaks. “It’s not fairto you or me to try to ignore what’s going on in my head any longer.”
He strokes my cheek. “I’m here. Every step of the way.”
“I know.”
And I do know that. It might have taken a minute or five for me to pull my head out of my ass, but I know what I have, and I’m not going to risk it. Not again.
Dinner at the Marino is always a… lively affair. Adrian and Vic are in charge of cooking, while Micah and Gavin make chaos rather than doing anything useful while keeping Lara away from the food lest she accidentally poison us all—it’s happened too many times to count. Kail’s nona is in the living room, pretending to be napping, but really, she’s just enjoying not having to cook for once…and probably plotting how to swindle me out of more money.
Kail and I sit on barstools at the counter, out of the way, both of us content to watch as the action happens around us.
“Why do you have wine from thirty years ago?” Gavin asks as he roots around in our father’s pantry.
Adrian shrugs. “Was probably a gift or something. Bring it out.”
Gavin appears with the bottle clutched in his hand. “Shall we open it? Wine is supposed to get better with age, right?”
“It’s dusty as hell,” Vic says. “Are you sure it’s wine?”
“The hell else would it be?” Gavin wipes at the label and squints at it. “It’s a merlot. Has to be good.” Without waiting for an answer from anyone, he heads to where Adrian keeps the bottle opener.
“Fuck!” Gavin exclaims, causing everyone to look over at him. His cheeks pinken as he says, “Fucking cork is disintegrating into the bottle.”
“Probably a good indication that the wine’s rancid,” Micah points out.
“Nah…it’ll be fine. A little cork never hurt anyone, right?”
I snort. “You have a cheese cloth, Papa?”
