brutal claim on my body.
“I. Do. Not. Fucking. Care!” he roared, making me flinch and then still. He slid a hand beneath me, using two fingers to stroke my clit until I couldn’t hold back the twitching in my thighs. “Who owns you?” he asked, putting so much pressure against the bundle of nerves that it crossed that line from pleasure to too much.
“You do. You fucking twat,” I argued, shifting my thighs forward what little I could to relieve some of the intensity from his touch.
“And are you going to put my woman at risk again?” he asked.
“No!” I shrieked, my body convulsing with my release as he shoved deep with one final thrust. He worked his fingers over me more gently as he filled me with his release, until I shuddered and cried out with a blinding climax that brought me over the edge of normal and into a land I’d never dreamed could be real.
Death by orgasm felt very real as he pulled out of me and untied me from the headboard. The reality that I would have to trudge back to my own bed hit me like a punch to the chest, but I stood and made my way to his bathroom to clean up.
It was only when I turned and started to leave the bathroom that I saw my ass in the mirror. Even backwards, there was no mistaking his name scratched into the flesh of my ass.
“ENZO!” I yelled, rage filling me at the sound of his roar of laughter as it came from the bedroom.
He stepped into the bathroom, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest and a satisfied smirk on his face. “It’d be better as a tattoo,” he said, taking my hand and guiding me to the bed. He tucked me in, pulling the covers over my head and moved to a chair at the edge of the room with a blanket that had fallen off the end of the bed. “Go to sleep, Baby Girl,” he murmured.
It wasn’t quite having him in bed with me. But after the night we’d had, I’d take it for what it was. At least I wasn’t alone.
Sitting on the couch and staring at the fireplace in the corner, I hated the red and orange flames and the way they danced. What had once felt like a comfort only felt like an ominous reminder of everything that was gone. "Your parents are on their way," Enzo said, his voice tight as he studied me from the kitchen.
He was supportive and did what he could to comfort me when my emotions took over since I'd gotten up that morning, but the deep bags under his eyes showed just how tired he was.
And still pissed, no doubt.
"You called them already?" I asked, glancing over at the clock. It was only nine in the morning, and I'd only woken up less than an hour before and rolled into the shower.
"I wanted to make sure someone told him before he saw it on the news. Especially so that he would know nobody was hurt," Enzo confirmed. I nodded, feeling like a terrible daughter because it hadn't been the first thought on my mind when I woke up that morning to a roomful of new clothes Enzo’d had delivered urgently. "You should eat something," he commented.
"I'm not hungry," I whispered back. The truth was that I was always hungry, but not then. I didn't think I could eat a bite. The doorbell ringing at the front jarred Enzo out of whatever he'd been about to say.
My heart leapt into my throat knowing who waited on the other side. My eyes snapped to Enzo, and he sighed, closing the distance between us. He helped me stand from the couch, touching his forehead to mine. Our sex the night before hadn’t been enough to erase his anger over what I’d almost done, but just having him close went a long way to easing the worry that I’d fucked up beyond all repair. "All they care about is that you're safe, Carina."
Leaving me standing in the center of the room, he went for the door and tugged it open after a quick glance through the peephole. Mama's face filled the doorway, her distraught features morphing as she glanced around Enzo and pushed past him to charge at me. Hands coming down on my face and grasping it in her hands, she whispered softly. "Oh Mahal." Watching as tears flooded