“I’m possessive,” he corrected, voice darker now. “There’s a difference.”
His hands slid down her thighs, spreading her knees wider.
“And after our shower–after you strut into work wearing my fingerprints–I want you to remember this moment.”
She grinned, bold and reckless. “Yes, Daddy.”
Enzo groaned, forehead tipping to hers.
“I swear to God, woman. Keep that up and we won’t make it to the shower.”
“Your move,” she murmured, licking her lips.
He shoved the shower door open.
Challenge accepted.
Steam licked up the glass.
His girl–his fucking girl- skin goosebumped and waiting.
Waiting for him.
Enzo didn’t speak.
Didn’t have to.
He stepped forward–wet, massive, carved from shadow and heat–and watched her pupils dilate.
God, she was perfect like this.
Bare. Breathless. Bratty.
And his.
“Turn around,” he said, voice low. Lethal.
But she didn’t.
She challenged him with that fucking look.
Enzo raised an eyebrow and went in for the kill. She hit the tile like a goddamn fever dream he never wanted to wake from–palms braced on the built–in bench, legs parted, back arched, water cascading over her spine like a benediction.
And Enzo?
He was already behind her.
Already hard.
Already there.
1/4
Fist in her hair, tugging her head back just enough to hear her whimper, to watch the steam curl around her bitten lips.
“You look like sin,” he said, voice dark and low.
Lola looked over her shoulder, defiant. “Then fuck me like you’re trying to exercise the demons from this body. Fair warning you’ll never be able to no
matter how hard you try.”
He didn’t need a second invitation.
He dragged the head of his cock through her soaked folds, teasing her clit just long enough to make her gasp.
Then-
He slammed into her.
She cried out–loud, raw, unfiltered–and the sound echoed like worship against the marble.
Her hands scrambled forward to catch the bench.
He watched her steady herself, her knuckles whitening, her arms shaking under the weight of him.
“Take it,” he growled, snapping his hips again. “Fucking take all of me.”
The sound of skin against skin was thunderous.
Water poured over them.
Steam filled the room like smoke from an altar.
He shifted his grip–wrapped one arm around her waist to pull her back onto his cock, the other snaking up, fingers sliding across her slick throat.
Not stopping breath–just reminding her who owned every single one.
“Enzo,” she choked out, hips jerking back, meeting every thrust like she needed it to breathe.
He squeezed tighter, loving the way her moan pitched higher, how her body clenched around him like it knew it was his.
“Who do you belong to?“.
“You,” she sobbed. “You, Enzo, I’m yours–please-”
“Damn right you are.”
He pulled out just enough to slam back in, angling his hips so she felt every ridge, every vein, every brutal inch of him claiming her from the inside.
Her arms started to give.
She was shaking.
2/4
He didn’t slow down.
Didn’t let up.
Instead, his hand slid from her waist, down to her clit–and he rubbed it mercilessly.
Tight, fast, devastating circles.
She screamed.
Almost collapsed.
“Hold on for me kitten,” he growled, voice wrecked. “You want to come?”
“Yes–please–please-”
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