"Enough," he groaned, but his hips thrust up into my mouth like his body had lost all control. I thought for a moment he would spill down my throat, but he eventually tugged me off his cock.
Hands grasped me around the waist, turning me to face him and straddle the bike. "Lean back and touch yourself," he ordered. "I want to see how wet sucking my cock made you, Carina." I laid out carefully, my back resting on top of the fuel tank and arching with the curve of it. Reaching a hand between my legs, I propped myself up on one hand behind me so I could reach. Enzo's eyes tracked the movement, watching as two fingers touched my clit and my legs twitched from the shock of contact.
Slipping down to my entrance, I slid a finger inside myself, loving the way his attention held firm. A bomb could go off in the house, and I wasn't sure Enzo would notice. Such was the intensity of his focus on me. "Fuck, Baby Girl. You're soaked."
"How could I not be when I'm with you?" I teased, slipping my hips closer to him. I reached between us, taking him in hand and guiding him to my entrance. A roll of my hips and he pushed inside. I rolled them over him, working to take him deeper as my body acclimated to being impaled on him. "Lorenzo," I whimpered.
"This is how I want you to give me my lap dances," he said, a seductive smile on his face. So stunningly beautiful with his angular features and classic good looks, it was a wonder Enzo didn't want to spend the rest of his nights buried in a buffet of women.
I might not have believed he loved me a few days prior, but the way he studied me as I leaned all the way back on the bike again and rolled my hips to take him in and out in slow grinds left little doubt in my mind.
Enzo was mine just as much as I was his. Something about it comforted me. Like my life aligned with his and everything clicked into place in that moment. His hands touched my stomach, trailing up to cup my breasts. The friction between us left little trails of red flakes over my skin that Enzo eyed with lust on his face. Finally gripping my hips, he slammed me down on his cock so he rammed to the end of me and drew a gasp from my lips. Driven to the edge by the sight of his rival's blood on my skin, he pummeled into me, guiding my hips through the motions he wanted. Tossing my head back to hang between the handlebars, I let him take what he needed.
Let him give me what I wanted with harsh strokes of himself inside me.
When I screamed out my orgasm and shattered around him, he followed soon after. Filling me with his heat, he held me still. Rooted on him. Filled with him as I laid there panting.
Drunk. Sated. Tired.
He chuckled, helping lift me off the bike and setting me on my feet. The blood on both our skin demanded a shower, even though all I wanted to do was crawl into bed.
Even if it would be alone.
Weight covered my back, pressing me into the mattress. Difficult to breathe beneath the heaviness of it, I gasped as I came awake. Memories of the attack in my apartment assaulted me, bringing my panic to the surface.
Only the smell of Enzo calmed me and prevented me from fighting on instinct. The memory of him tucking me in after our shower was vague, as I'd been half asleep. I'd asked him to stay until I dozed off, wanting to feel a little less alone in the night. "Enzo?" I asked, getting my hands underneath me and pushing up gently.
His arm slid under mine, grabbing the front of my throat and squeezing so hard that I choked on the feeling of the nook between his thumb and pointer finger as it pressed into my jugular. "Enzo," I wheezed, trying to push back against him.
He didn't respond to me, kneeing my legs apart so he could get better leverage and insert one knee between them. His bare thigh rubbed against me from behind, an invasion of the worst kind despite knowing who he was.
Because it wasn't really Enzo touching me in that moment, but the killer who lived in his dreams and haunted his waking hours.
"Enzo! Wake up!" I said as loud as I could, my voice muffled by the pressure on my throat. He pulled me back up tighter, his breath hitting my ear and sounding pained even in his sleep. "Fuck," I groaned. With all the strength I had, I forced my weight back into him. Getting up to my knees, I spun. Catching him in the face with my elbow, I sucked in deep gasps of air as his hand left my throat entirely.
I bolted off the bed, going for the door to the bedroom, but the sound of Enzo's voice stopped me. "Sadie," he mumbled, his voice filled with confusion. He turned on the lamp next to the bed, looking me over and examining my heaving chest. "Fuck!" he snapped, burying his hands in his hair and tugging at the strands. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," I said, knowing I'd be fine by morning. His hand had cut off my breath, but it hadn't been hard enough to bruise or hurt me long-term. He nodded at me, striding past me to go for the door and presumably to his own bed.
"I'm so fucking sorry. I can't believe I fell asleep. I won't let it happen again." His somber voice broke something in me. Knowing all that pain and guilt came from something that wasn't his fault, and that I wasn't really hurt.
"It's fine. I'm fine. Come back to
