Page 77 of Twisted Vows

He pulls back just far enough to glimpse my flushed appearance. “You’re nervous.” His eyes blaze as though he enjoys it, but his tone softens. “Good. First times should make you nervous.”

I flush. Jacob and I never went this far. I always stopped him. But this… “I don’t… I mean, I have no clue what I’m doing.”

There’s that crooked grin that ruins me every single time. “Then stop worrying. Let me.”

Slowly, he peels my dress off my shoulders, watching every twitch and stutter. I try to cover up, instinct flaring, but he catches my wrists and pins them above my head with a kind of certainty.

“No hiding. I want to see you.” His gaze drags down my body as the fabric pools at my waist. “Every blush. Every tremor. Every inch that belongs to me now.”

The intensity of his words steals my breath. Though he’s only gotten me down to my lingerie, I feel exposed already.

He kisses me again. His tongue dances in my mouth, flicking sensitive corners I never knew existed. He’s slow, almost careful, like he’s easing me open instead of just taking. He keeps at it until my knees become jelly. I’m now pressing against him, all my nerves short-circuiting, shyness replaced by an unbearable ache for more.

His hand finds my breast, his thumb pinching and circling my nipple. I arch into him, half afraid I might snap from the pleasure.

“Beautiful.”

Emboldened, I slip my hands under his ruined shirt, my fingers wandering over muscle and scars. I wonder about the story behind each one…how many he’d tell me if I asked, how many he’d swallow down with that careful silence he uses when the past gets too close. Maybe one day. Maybe, if we get enough time, he’ll let me learn them all. He hisses, and damn, that reaction does things to me.

“You’re shaking.” His mouth twists into that smug, cocky little quirk.

I just nod, not even pretending otherwise. “I…I’ve never…”

He kisses me. “I know, bella. That’s why I’ll make sure you’re ready. So ready, you’ll beg me to take you.”

Heat explodes through me at his promise.

Next thing I know, he’s down on his knees, spreading me open. Then his mouth is on me, right through the lace. I gasp, and my fingers tangle in his hair. He’s got my hips pinned like there’s no escape, and then it’s just his hot, hungry tongue, which causes my brain to basically malfunction. Thinking? Gone. Breathing? Overrated.

“Enzo…oh fuck!”

He actually laughs, and a shockwave jolts through me. “Sweet. It tastes like something forbidden, baby.”

When he shoves the lace aside and dives back in like he’s starving, I just dissolve. His mouth, his tongue…the things he does…circling, flicking, making me forget my own name. He swaps his tongue for his fingers just long enough to suck my clit so hard that I nearly black out, and I come apart. My nails dig into his shoulders as my whole body pulses. He just keeps going, drinking me in like he’ll never stop.

I’m still dazed when he scoops me up and tosses me onto the bed like I weigh nothing. Seriously, the man is a menace.

“You think I’m done at one?” he teases, his voice dark and dangerous.

He’s on me again, his mouth at my breast. He tugs at my nipple through the lace with his teeth, sucking until I’m a mess of moans. His hand slips between my legs, two fingers sliding in, stretching me, finding a rhythm that inspires me to grind up into him like I’ve got no shame left.

“That’s it.” His grip tightens as he watches me lose myself. “Ride my hand, bella. Show me how much you fucking need it.”

So I do, rocking against him, choking on a sob when his thumb finds my clit again. Another orgasm slams into me, and my thighs clamp around his wrist. I swear I’m seeing actual constellations. He doesn’t let up, not until I’m begging for mercy.

“Too much.” The raw, shredded words tear out of me.

“Not enough.” He captures my mouth, kissing me deeper. He pulls his fingers out and brings them, slick and glistening, to my lips. “Taste yourself.”

The humiliation wars with the hunger inside me. Slowly, I take them into my mouth and suck. His guttural response has me dripping.

“Christ. You’ll be the end of me.”

“Enzo…” I gasp when he drags his lips down my jaw and bites the tender skin of my throat hard enough to mark.

“You drive me insane.” His breath burns my skin. “Every look, every word out of your smart mouth. I should keep you at arm’s length. I should never touch you.” His hand slides down my back, cupping my ass and yanking me against the rigid length straining in his trousers. “But, hell, I’d rather rot than see someone else touch you.”

That admission—deep, desperate—knocks the wind out of me. I reach out with clumsy hands as I rip open his shirt, ravenous for more skin-on-skin contact.