Page 37 of Pen Pal

“With what?” I exhaled.

“You.” It was a statement, not a question.

I didn’t answer; I couldn’t. I knew Enzo years ago, but now, he was night and day from back then. He was too far down the rabbit hole, unhinged and unstable. His blood was too soiled with blood, and he could never go back to the vulnerable, self-reflecting man who was my pen pal as an intern.

Now, he was unpredictable, violent, and a cold-blooded murderer. How could I trusthim? How could anyone?

Sure, my body came alive under his touch. But maybe that was a mistake. Was a few nights of mind-blowing orgasms worth risking my livelihood, my career, mylife?

Enzo nodded as if he could read my thoughts, like my lack of a reply was an answer in itself. He yanked my hair, pulling my head back, exposing my neck to him as he lifted his chin, looking down at me with those blue eyes swirling with menace.

“If only your husband hadn’t come between us,” he tsked, dragging his fingernails down a vein at my neck. “I might’ve made parole, gotten out, and found you before the fucker had a chance to lay his filthy hands on you. Maybe I could’ve been the man you wanted.”

I whimpered as his teeth latched on my ear, nibbling it, making me shiver.

“But I’m more than that now,” he growled. “I’m not the man you want. I’m the man youneed. Because you’remine, Amara, and no one hurts what belongs tome.”

Enzo licked down my neck, latching on the skin below my ear, sucking, holding me still as all I could do was whimper as he marked me. I could feel the swell of my skin as he moved to the other side, biting into my flesh, making hickeys on my neck, and showing everyone that I was taken.

“You’re a good girl, aren’t you, Amara?” he breathed, his hands sliding down my body, groping my breasts through my dress, sliding down my belly, my pussy, and to the hem. “You’ve always been a good girl your whole life. I know your type, baby. Straight A’s, pretty clothes, living your life by the rules.”

I gulped as he fisted the hem of my dress.

“But you’ve always been drawn to danger, haven’t you? You chose the stable white-collar boy because society told you to do that. But deep down, you long to have a bad boyruinyou, break you, and make you beg for it, don’t you, baby?”

My breath stuttered, catching in my throat as I froze, paralyzed under a veritable predator, intoxicating and primal. Something electric passed between us, a chemistry, a connection that I couldn’t deny.

Enzo stepped away, leaving me breathless as he raked his eyes over me. “Look at you, my little pen pal, speechless.”

Then, out of the waist of his pants, he pulled out a gun.

I gasped. “H-How the hell did you get that?”

“Please,” he smirked. “You think I don’t have connections? I practically ownthis fucking prison.”

He spun the cylinder, the sound filling the silence like a warning.

Click. Click.

I stood before him, his weight pinning me to the wall, trapping me. Enzo ripped my top down to my waist. The muzzle of the revolver traced slow, lazy circles over my collarbone, then lowered, teasing the swell of my breast.

"One bullet," he murmured, pressing the gun against my ribs. "Six chambers."

My breath hitched.

"Do you think you're lucky?" His smirk was cruel as he dragged the barrel lower. He lifted the hem of my dress to my hips, and my knees buckled as he slipped the gun up my skirt between my thighs.

I clenched my legs, snapping them shut.

He laughed. "Oh no, baby, you don't get to hide from me."

His hand forced me open. The cold steel pressed against my most sensitive flesh. "Tell me," he murmured, his lips brushing against my ear. "Are you afraid?"

I swallowed hard, knowing whatever answer I gave would change nothing for an unhinged murderer like him.

"Yes," I admitted, my voice breathy and shaky.

His chuckle was dark, filled with something twisted and starving, deprived of a woman’s touch for decades. "Good," he whispered, cocking the hammer. "Now beg."

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