“Enzo!” I gasp, but there’s no time to lay into him for destroying my underwear, because he enters me with a rough thrust.
His eyes lock on mine to check for my reaction.
I’m not quite used to his size yet, and there’s a sting, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.
“You good,meu anjinho?”
I nod quickly before I have to grab hold of his wrist and hold on for dear life.
Enzo keeps a tight grip on my neck, but not so much that I can’t breathe, and he begins to drive hard into me, each thrust jostling my body.
I can see the pleasure on his face as he takes me with no restraint, and it makes me get even wetter for him. I’ve never seen anything hotter than my man claiming me hard and fast.
Holy crap on a cracker.
The friction is so intense that an orgasm seizes me. I let out moans and cries, and when I close my eyes, Enzo orders, “Eyes on me while I’m making you come.”
They snap open again, and I gasp through the ecstasy. Every time he fills me with a hard thrust, it makes more pleasure scatter through me.
When Enzo’s orgasm hits, he doesn’t let up at all, but instead slams even harder into me while a groan rumbles from him.
I cup his jaw with my palm while still holding onto his wrist with my other hand and feel how he clenches his teeth from the pleasure he’s experiencing.
Suddenly, he loses all his strength, and he falls down on top of me. Just like the couple of times we’ve had sex, I quickly wrap my legs around him.
I hold Enzo until his breathing returns to normal, and when he lifts his head and our eyes meet, he asks, “Are you okay?”
“I’m better than okay.”
He lifts an eyebrow at me. “I wasn’t too rough?”
Shaking my head, I lift my head and press a soft kiss to his mouth. “You were perfect.”
ENZO
There isn’t a store in Lisbon that Jenna hasn’t dragged me to. She insisted we make the house ours, and I quickly learned that meant we’re redecorating the entire place.
The cream leather lounge suite in the living room reminded her of the hotel we stayed in when I took her shopping in Minneapolis, so I got it for her.
I also bought her the biggest TV we could find for her to watch her K-dramas on.
As I hammer nails into the walls so we can put up framed photos of us, Jenna’s phone beeps, and when she checks the message, she lets out a chuckle.
Frowning at her, I ask, “Who texted you?”
“Cassia. I sent her photos of all the changes we’ve made to the house. She says you look grumpy and should smile.”
I let out a grumble and carry on slamming nails into the wall.
“You should smile more. Especially when we go out. You always look like a thunder cloud,” she says as she hangs a photo she sneakily took of me while I was driving.
“Meu amor, you’re the only person I smile for. The rest of the people out there don’t get to see that side of me.”
“Yeah-yeah. You need to uphold your badass status. I get it.”
I reach over and smack her ass, then give her a playful glare. “You’re getting too brave for your own good.”
She pauses and gives me a surprised look. “I am.” Looking all impressed with herself, she heads down the stairs. “You’re rubbing off on me.”
