Page 135 of Ruined By Blood
Enzo shouts. "Oh fuck!"
Hot spurts of cum hit my tongue, the roof of my mouth. I swallow instinctively, milking him with my lips and tongue until his hips fall back to the bed with a low groan. His mouth still moves against me, gentler now, soothing as I come down from my own climax.
For long moments, the only sounds are our raggedbreathing and the slick slide of his tongue as he cleans my own release from my trembling thighs. I collapse beside him.
CHAPTER 44
Iwake to sunlight streaming through the windows and Enzo's warm body wrapped around mine. His chest rises and falls against my back in the steady rhythm of sleep.
Enzo stirs behind me, his stubble scratching my shoulder as he presses a kiss to my skin.
"Morning, piccola," he murmurs, voice rough with sleep.
I turn in his arms to face him. "Morning."
His dark eyes, still heavy-lidded, roam over my face. He brushes a strand of hair from my cheek, his touch impossibly gentle for hands that have done such violence.
He stretches, muscles rippling beneath histattooed skin. "We should get up soon. I have something planned for us today."
I prop myself on one elbow. "Before we go to your family's for dinner?"
"Yes." Enzo kisses my forehead before sliding out of bed. "Wear something comfortable. We'll be in the car for a bit."
I follow him to the bathroom. "Where are we going?"
He turns on the shower, steam quickly filling the glass enclosure. "It's a surprise."
I narrow my eyes. "You never do surprises."
It's true. Enzo always tells me exactly where we're going, what to expect. After everything with my father, he understands my need for information, for control.
A smile plays at the corner of his mouth. "First time for everything."
After showering and dressing in jeans and a soft blue sweater, I follow Enzo to the garage. He opens the passenger door of his Audi, rather than the Lamborghini.
"Practical car today?" I tease, sliding into the leather seat.
"Practical drive," is all he says.
We leave the city, traffic thinning as Enzo navigates onto a highway heading north. He keeps one hand on the wheel, the other resting on my thigh. The familiar weight is comforting.
About forty minutes into the drive, I recognize where we are.
"Enzo." I sit up straighter. "This is the way to my father's house."
Tension creeps into my shoulders. I haven't been back since that day six months ago.
Enzo's hand squeezes my thigh gently. "Not exactly. But close."
"Why are we here?" My voice sounds small, even to my own ears.
He glances at me, his expression softening. "Trust me?"
I nod, though anxiety still flutters in my chest.
Enzo takes an exit I haven't seen in years, turning down a familiar street lined with old maple trees. My heart starts to pound as I recognize more landmarks. The corner where Mom and I would feed ducks in spring.
"Enzo, what are we?—"
