Accidentally Yours (Merffy Kizzmet) novel Chapter 210

Chapter 210

84

Lola

The suite was still half–dark when she woke, light leaking through the curtains in thin ribbons across the sheets. The air smelled faintly of him espresso, cedar, and sin.

He was already sitting up against the headboard, hair mussed, reading something on his tablet. Always working. Always ready to shoulder the next war before breakfast.

“Morning,” she said, voice scratchy with sleep.

He looked up immediately. “You should still be sleeping.”

“Couldn’t.” She pushed the sheet aside, bare skin brushing cool air, the faint scrape of silk against her thighs. His eyes followed the movement; he didn’t even pretend otherwise.

She climbed over him, knees sinking into the mattress until she straddled his hips.

The motion drew a quiet exhale from him low, reflexive.

“Morning,” she repeated, slower this time.

He didn’t move, only looked at her. “You trying to kill me, gattina[kitten]?”

Her fingers slid down his chest, nails tracing over the ridges of muscle and the faint line of hair that disappeared beneath the sheet. “You’ve been patient long enough,” she murmured. “Honestly, I was starting to think you’d taken up sainthood.”

A sound rumbled in his chest, half laugh, half threat.

“Saints don’t think the things I’ve been thinking about you.”

Her smile turned feral. “Good. Then stop thinking.”

He did.

His hand came up, caught the back of her neck, and drew her down into him. The kiss was slow at first, more worship than hunger but it deepened fast, teeth clicking, breath tangling. Every movement felt like something being reclaimed; every sigh, a promise neither of them had language for yet.

She rolled her hips once, deliberate. His grip tightened. The soft rasp of a growl ghosted against her mouth.

God, I missed this. Missed him. Missed feeling like I still belong somewhere that isn’t broken.

“You’re playing with fire,” he warned.

“I am the fire,” she whispered, and bit his lower lip.

The sound he made then was pure surrender. The tablet slid from his hand, forgotten. His fingers dragged down her spine, mapping the

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11:29 Thu, Oct 9.

Chapter 210

small tremors that ran through her. The sheet twisted under them as he shifted, rolling her beneath him in one fluid motion.

The kiss broke only long enough for a breath and a glance, his eyes darker now, that steady control gone molten.

“You sure?” he asked.

She nodded, fingers curling into his hair. “Don’t make me beg, Enzo.”

Because I will. God help me, I would, I would get on all fours and beg if that’s what it took.

His mouth found her throat, her collarbone, the edge of the chain at her neck. Every kiss felt like an oath renewed, every touch a reminder of how close they’d come to losing this. The rhythm built between them, slow burn into something rough, desperate, all–consuming.

Her hands dragged across his shoulders, nails leaving thin red lines down his back. He swallowed her moan, breathing her name against her skin like a confession.

When it finally broke when the world narrowed to nothing but heat and pulse and the sound of his voice in her ear, it wasn’t about grief anymore. It was reclamation. Them, whole and filthy and alive.

For a long time neither spoke. Then he said quietly, “We’ll get through it. You and me.”

She smiled against his skin, voice lazy and warm. “You say that like you ever had a choice.”

He huffed a laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest. “With you? Never did.”

Her lips brushed his collarbone, a ghost of a grin. “Good answer.”

He kissed her once more, softer this time, but when she whispered his name against his lips, he started moving again slow, reverent, endless.

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