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“That was for being arrogant.”

“Do it again.”

“Oh, you’re one of those.”

“One of what?”

“Men who encourage bad behavior.”

“Only yours.”

His fingers move faster. I lose the argument. Pressure curls low in my stomach, stronger with every movement of my hips and every rough circle of his thumb. Enzo watches me. Not looking away. Not letting me hide.

“Come for me.”

I shake my head even though my body has already decided otherwise.

“Bossy.”

“Come on, Bridget.”

His voice drops.

“Let me see you.”

That gets me. Everything tightens at once. Then breaks. My orgasm hits harder than the first one, my body clamping around him as I gasp his name and forget every clever thing I’ve ever said. Enzo catches my hips and thrusts up into me through it.

“Fuck.”

His control finally snaps. He rolls me beneath him again before I’ve entirely recovered, and I barely have time to wrap my legs around him before he starts moving harder.

“Enzo.”

“I know.”

His forehead presses to mine. A few more rough thrusts and his whole body locks. He comes with my name against my mouth, his fingers digging into my hip while I hold on to him. For several seconds, neither of us moves. The room is quiet except for our breathing.

Then I say, “Well.”

Enzo laughs against my neck.

“That’s all you’ve got?”

“I’m composing a formal review.”

“Good?”

I consider pretending otherwise. Then he lifts his head and looks at me, hair destroyed, lips swollen, and enough satisfaction in those dark eyes to make lying pointless.

“Annoyingly.”

His smile is pure male arrogance.

“I’ll take it.”

“Don’t get comfortable. There’s always room for improvement.”

Enzo kisses me. Slow this time. Tender enough to make something inside me ache in a way the sex didn’t.