Page 78 of Pen Pal

That rock was fucking huge. It would be a challenge to work with that thing on my finger all day, but I looked forward to being constantly reminded that I was Enzo’s wife now.

And for once in my life, I knew that this time, I was safe with my husband.

Present Day

I smiled at the memories of our wedding and engagement. They helped calm my nerves as I sat on the bed in the conjugal room, the door closing behind the guard as he left the room.

I peeled my outfit from my body, revealing my white lace bridal lingerie underneath.

Unfortunately, soon after we got married, one of the clerks recognized Enzo, and he was arrested, so we didn’t get to have our wedding night. This was the first time we’d be sleeping together as husband and wife.

I folded my clothes neatly and placed them on a chair in the room. I sat on the bed again, fidgeting nervously. How long would it be before they finally brought in Enzo?

My pulse raced, my heart hammering against my chest. My body buzzed with anticipation as I crossed and uncrossed my legs, impatience setting in.

I heard an audibleclick!The door creaked open, and there he was.

My husband. The only man who ever deserved the title, and as far as I was concerned, the only one that ever counted.

His eyes darkened as his gaze raked over me, and he quickly shut the door behind him, shielding me from the guards’ view.

I took in the sight before me; Enzo, with his hair neatly coiffed, his mustache perfectly shaped, his knuckles bruised, and his eyes burning with unbridled possessiveness.

His eyes roamed, inhaling sharply at the sight of my lingerie. He stepped forward, confident as if he couldn’t help himself but get closer to me.

“Are you sure you want this?” he rasped, everything about him exuding hunger.

I knew that I was. Refusing to let Mark haunt me from the grave and keep me from my well-deserved happiness and pleasure, I sauntered toward my husband. I closed the distance between us, my fingers wrapping around the collar of his jumpsuit as I grippedit tightly.

The air vibrated with tension as I looked into his eyes, my expression speaking to him without words.

“You are,” he husked, his eyes blazing dangerously. He gripped my waist, backing me up until my legs hit the bed, and I fell backward onto it.

Enzo’s lips met mine, our mouths melding as his tongue wrestled mine, hot and needy. There was no room for second thoughts, just raw passion.

He hooked his fingers in my panties and garter belt, pulling them down as I went rigid.

He stopped, letting my lingerie fall to my ankles as he regarded me. “If you want me to stop, tell me now, love,” he warned. “Because once I have you, it might just kill me to stop.”

“Don’t stop,” I breathed, tugging at his jumpsuit, the buttons unsnapping as I pulled it down to his waist.

He searched my expression, making sure that I meant it, before he lifted my legs, settling them above his shoulders as he knelt by the bed, dragging my hips toward his face.

“Enzo?” I breathed.

“I need to taste what’s mine,” he rasped, and his touch branding, claiming. His mouth found my pussy, already soaking for him, and he licked myentire slit. I moaned, gripping the sheets as his blue eyes locked on mine, his tongue swirling around my throbbing clit.

“Fuck!” I exclaimed, my hands sliding to his hair as my hips moved of their own accord, rubbing my clit against his tongue. He groaned, his fingers sliding up my inner thighs before he circled my entrance, and I bucked in response. “Please!” I shouted.

“My little wife asking so nicely,” he husked, shoving his fingers inside me. My eyes crossed as he curled them, stroking my G-spot so expertly that tears welled in my eyes.

“What am I to you?” he asked against my clit, his hot breath fanning over my sensitive flesh.

“Mine,” I panted, the words sending a thrill through me.

“Your what?” he teased between licks, flicking his tongue expertly, and a single tear escaped.

“My husband,” I moaned. “You’re my husband.”

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