Page 85 of Enzo

“You don’t owe me that?—”

“I want to.”

Something darkened in his eyes. “Robbie?”

Instead of answering, I leaned up and pressed my lips to his. Unlike our desperate kisses from last night, this was gentle, questioning. His hand left my hair and cradled my face, thumb stroking my cheek as he kissed me back with a tenderness that made my chest ache.

“Tell me,” I murmured against his skin. “Tell me what you like.”

“I like kissing you. I like you sitting on my lap, safe in my arms.” He dipped his gaze as if that embarrassed him.

“I like all of those, but I also want to make you come,” I said as boldly as I could manage.

Enzo pulled back to study my face. “You’re not just doing it because you think I expect you to?—”

“No,” I said, surprised by how sure I was. “I want to learn your body the way you’ve learned mine.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Fuck, I want that,” he whispered, voice husky. “But we go at your pace.”

I nodded, feeling a surge of both nervousness and determination as I pushed gently at his shoulder. He went willingly, rolling onto his back. I followed, propping myself up to look down at him. I could see him properly in the morning light—the lean muscle beneath his warm-toned skin, scars on his belly, the dark trail of hair disappearing beneath the sheet that barely covered his hips.

“You’re staring,” he said, a hint of vulnerability in his voice I’d never heard before.

“You’re beautiful.”

His laugh was brief and self-conscious. “I’m bruised and cut and used up,” he murmured.

I shook my head and tapped his pec right over a compass tattoo. “Beautiful. Dangerous. Safety.” Then I smiled at him. “Mine.”

A slow smile spread across his face, his eyes darkening as he reached up to touch my cheek. “Yours, huh?”

“Is that okay?” I asked, uncertain. This was the first sex I’d had, and it mattered. He mattered, and I wanted to show him that.

“More than okay,” he murmured. “I’ve been yours since you first opened your eyes.”

“My protector.”

“Yours.”

“My lover.”

“Yours. Always yours.”

I paused. “I don’t know how to be with someone where it doesn’t hurt.”

My confession sent a shiver through me, and he caught my hand and laced our fingers. Something real passed between us, and I broke my exploration of his skin to move my lips along his jaw, pressing a quick kiss to his soft lips, then down the column of his throat, feeling his pulse quicken beneath my mouth. His skin tasted like heaven, and I wanted more.

“Can I?” I asked, my fingers playing with the edge of the sheet at his waist.

He nodded, his breath catching as I pulled the sheet away. I tried not to be obvious in my staring, but it was impossible not to appreciate his beauty, exposed to me. My gaze traced over his body, taking in every detail, every scar, the hard lines and soft curves that made him Enzo.

“You’re still staring,” he said, voice rough.

“I can’t help it,” I admitted. “I’ve never… not like this. Not when it mattered.”

His eyes softened. “Come here,” he said, reaching for me.

But I shook my head. “Not yet. I want to touch you first.”

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