Page 112 of The Toy Collector

As I finish the final stroke, she tugs her leg free from my grasp, already shaking her head before I can even ask, making it clear she won’t let me shave anywhere else. The dark landing strip between her thighs remains untouched, a boundary she isn’t ready to surrender.

I slide my hands up her thighs, my mouth following the path my fingers blaze. She tries to press her knees together, but I’m already between them, my shoulders keeping her spread open for me.

“I love you exactly as you are,” I murmur against her clit.

She gasps. “You love me?”

Frowning, I look up at her. I’m pretty sure I’ve told her over and over that I love her. I mean, I’ve said she’s mine, that’s fucking synonymous.

“Yes,” I rasp. “I love you, Piper.”

“H-how can you love me when you don’t even know me?” She lifts her hips, trying to grind against my face. But I pull away, denying both of us. “Tell me,” she demands breathlessly.

“I do know you,” I answer, blowing air against her sex, making her shiver. “I know you act like you hate when I lick right here.” Pausing, I press my tongue to her clit for a brief moment.

“Enzo!”

My cock throbs, and I’m tempted to wrap one hand around the base, but this isn’t about me. It’s not even about pleasure. I’m determined to show my toy once and for all what she means to me, and the maddeningly perfect sex we have is just one aspect of our relationship.

“And I know you whimper so fucking prettily when I use my teeth. And when you can’t take it anymore,” I growl, “you ride my face like you want to smother me with your cunt. Like you’re desperate to do right now.”

“Am not…” Her denial dies the moment she realizes I’m right. She’s rotating her hips. “Okay, you got me there. But you don’t know where I grew up, or if I have any phobias.”

Chuckling, I carry on. “I know you’re from Connecticut.”

“Google will tell you that.”

“Your uncle Teddy,” I rasp, “was the first man who treated you like you mattered.”

She jerks, her moan catching on a sob, her hands finding my hair, yanking at the strands like she doesn’t know whether to pull me closer or shove me away. I fucking love the way she’s making me hurt for her.

“You grew up starving for love you never got, carving yourself hollow just to be enough,” I continue. “And you hate the color yellow because your mother wore it when she threw you out.”

Her back stiffens, and she lets out a sob. “W-what?”

I lift my face and look up at her so she can see the truth in my eyes. “I know you, Toy. Better than you know yourself.”

“Is that so?” she volleys.

I nod. “Yes, it’s so. Right now, you want me to distract you with orgasms. And even though I’d love nothing more, I’m not going to.”

She pouts so prettily. “Why not? I want to come.”

“Because,” I pause to press a kiss to her inner thigh. “We both already know I know your body better than you do. Now, I want you to understand just how precious you are to me, and how well Idoknow you.”

When she tries to turn away, I catch her chin, my grip firm, wet, unforgiving, dragging her back to me like a sinner to confession.

“This is the only thing that matters, Toy,” I breathe, slowly rising to my feet. “You’re mine, and I’m yours. Blood, bone, fucking destiny.”

I lift her from the shower bench, feeling her weight settle perfectly in my grip, her skin slick beneath my palms. Her body fits against mine like a missing piece returned to its rightful place—wet, warm, and trembling.

There’s a heaviness in my chest as she wraps herself around me, a dark satisfaction that burns beneath my ribs. This is what I’ve waited for. This is what I knew would happen from the moment I first saw her.

Water sheets down her back as I shift my grip, my palm flattening against her slick spine, the curve of her ass fitting perfectly into my hand like it was carved there just for me. My cock aches, leaking with my need for her, but I still ignore it.

She clings to me, arms winding tight around my neck, her breath hot against my throat. Her legs lock around my hips, thighs squeezing. “Enzo,” she whispers, her voice breaking on my name.

I turn, pressing her back to the cold tiles. Her gasp is immediate, her body arching instinctively toward me, seeking heat, seekingme. Her hair is plastered to her neck, water beading on her collarbone before trailing down between her tits. I watch one droplet’s journey, mesmerized.

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