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“Enzo!”
There are flower petals everywhere. The light from one lamp is enough to show me what he’s done to the room. A champagne stand and two glasses. Hundreds of rose petals. The curtains, all open, and the flickering lights across the lake visible from the restaurant are now outside our room on all sides.
I have no words.
“I wanted it to be perfect.”
I shiver. Enzo notices, and he comes to me. It looks like he’s about to say something more, but I’ll never find out what. Because I’m the one who kisses him this time. Hard.
And Enzo responds.
My sweater is off so quickly, I’m surprised by the rush of cold air, but then Enzo’s hands are everywhere, and I no longer care. I can’t seem to strip his clothing as quickly. After what seems like a year and a half, his sweater and undershirt are off. His sculpted chest and shoulders are on full display. Different than when we were young.
This is a man’s body.
“Chari,” he breathes, his mouth on my neck. I tilt my head to the side, giving him better access as my hands explore. “I’ve waited forever for this.”
Not as long as I have.
While my pace is still frantic, he’s slowed down. Not like he wants to stop, but like he wants to take his time. I grab, but Enzo caresses, his tongue trailing a path up toward my ear. He knows I like that, and it’s so much better now that we’re naked. Or half naked.
Which reminds me.
I reach down with what faculties still function and attempt to unzip his jeans. But Enzo stops me.
“You first. If you touch me right now, this won’t go like I planned.”
His voice is thick with desire, and I’m here for it. And I can’t help but feel a hint of wonder that he feels like that because of me.
He reaches behind my back and unclasps my bra with the deftness of someone who’s done it many times before. One bedside lamp is enough for me to see his expression, his parted lips. Dear lord, my insides are breaking apart.
One second he lays his hands over both breasts, cupping and teasing the nipples as he watches my reaction. The next, he does to me exactly what I’d intended to do to him. Jeans, unzipped. Pulled down. And of course I’m not wearing underwear.
Never do.
“Holy shit.”
Something snaps in him. Enzo doesn’t even bother to take off his jeans before he pushes me onto the bed. On top of me, gloriously dominating me like I’ve wanted him to do since forever.
I kiss him back as Enzo’s fingers both part and enter me at the same time.
“Screw slow,” he says, his lips back on my neck, which is totally fine because now I can grab ahold of that tousled black hair of his and hold on for dear life.
“What,” I gasp, “are you doing?”
I mean, I know what he’s doing, but it’s like the first time, on steroids. How can it possibly be even better than before?
“I am finger-fucking you, Chari,” he whispers in my ear, his tongue in rhythm with his two fingers inside me. “And then I plan to fuck you for real.”
“When?”
I tug at his jeans, needing more of him. All of him.
“When I hear my name coming from your lips.”
He pulls away to watch me as his hand continues its magic.
“Enzo,” I say, eager and ready.
