Page 50 of Filthy and the Beast

I wiggle my toes against his feet. “That was sexy.” I kiss his nipple, licking it softly, and drag my hand down to his hip. “Have you thought more about anal?”

His body tenses, but when my hand brushes his cock, he’s hard again.

“I don’t know.” Enzo's voice is rough. “Seems a little advanced for me.”

His straining dick suggests otherwise, but I don’t want to push him. “No problem.” Taking his nipple in my mouth, I tilt my eyes up to hold his gaze. “I can drive you out of your mind just like this.”

Our weight shifts. My cock is hard again, too. As I work his nipple with my lips, we start up. Our erections grind together, that full-body contact we both love overpowering my senses. The friction burns in the good way, but Enzo gets his hands on the lube. Next thing I know, we’re slicked up, grunting and moaning and rubbing each other until we come again.

I bite his nipple as we climax, and Enzo buries his hands in my hair, holding me to him.

“Fuck,” he gasps.

Panting, I collapse with my face on his hairy chest, semen hot between us. “Fuck,” I agree.

Working his arm around my shoulders, he holds me to him. We lay there, content and quiet, until Enzo kisses me again, and we both stir. He grabs some tissues, cleaning us off, and I rummage around for my underwear.

My double-orgasmed brain starts to go places I don’t want it to, telling me this is too good to let go of, that I need to make Enzo mine in a real way. I’ve never directly asked him if he’s open to extending our arrangement after I move out, partially because I’m scared the answer will be no.

If I need any proof, he still hasn’t invited me into his lair, which is a convenient reminder. I’ve held the same boundary in place, not inviting him up to my room, so at least it feels even.

There’s no reason to work myself up and consider something more. Hell, I still don’t know if I want a boyfriend.

Just know this feels nice. Really, really nice.

Nice in a way that might scare me, if I let it.

Standing, I tug on my briefs. “Nico is going to pick me up when I move out in a couple days,” I tell Enzo, reminding myself of the fast-approaching deadline. “You remember me talking about him? My best friend?”

Enzo grunts as he pulls on his boxers, avoiding my eyes. “Sure. Keyboard. Picture on the fridge.”

“Exactly. Since he’ll be here anyway, I thought maybe I could introduce you two?”

Enzo frowns, not answering.

“Or not,” I add hastily, although disappointment sinks in my gut. “If you aren’t up for a social visit, I would love to introduce him to the dogs. Would that be okay with you?”

Enzo rubs his beard, shaking his head slightly.

“No?” I ask.

He looks up at me. “Stay,” he says firmly.

I pull on my sweatshirt. “Stay? Like, with you?”

“Training is about to pick up. And you’re useful around the house. Would be better if you kept working for me.” He turns his gaze away. “Free rent. Maybe it will help you save more money for school.”

Eyeing him carefully, I sit across from him on the leather couch again. “You’re offering to extend my job?”

He nods. “If you want.”

A thrill fills me, tickling from my gut up to my chest. A big, big part of me wants to say yes, but words of caution whisper in the back of my mind. I could justify this whole "sleeping with the live-in boss" scenario short-term, but what would extending this mean?

“Do you really need me, though? I help with house stuff and the dogs, sure, and I spot you while you’re training, but you’re moving around on your own without any hassle now.”

“I’ll make a new list. There’s plenty to do. Errands. Garden shit.”

I must appear skeptical because Enzo rubs the back of his head and tries again. “The rescue called. They’ve got a new dog they think I’ll be perfect for. A pit. One year old. She’s a good girl, but she needs some training. If I take her, it will be a lot of work.”

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