Page 71 of Jordan

“That may be true, but you’re still wet. For me.”

“I’m not,” I grind out, gripping onto the countertop and digging my fingers in.

What the hell has gotten into him? He never acts like this. He never comes on to me like this. Hasn’t done anything like this since I’ve been here. Not outside of the theater, but even then, it wasn’t as brazen as this.

Enzo places his hands on the counter beside me, crowding my space. His firm chest grazes over my nipples, sending little sparks of pleasure right to my belly. He leans down by my ear, his scent making it hard to think. Why does he smell so damn good? I’m brought back to the night at the club. Sitting on his lap. Riding his cock.

“Prove it,” he whispers.

A shiver runs up my spine, and I bite down on my lip to keep the moan away.

No, I will not give in to him like this.

What is with him? Is it because Rafael isn’t here? Have they been together? Has he been with anyone? I hate that I don’t know anything about him, yet I’m going to be his wife!

I open my mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. He crouches down to drag his fingers up the inside of my thigh, settling right over my pussy. Thank god I have panties on. I bite down on my lip harder, my heart thundering.

“Hmm,” he hums. “Feels damp.”

“You’re wrong,” I whisper, hating how weak it comes out.

“Am I?” He raises a brow, his look nothing short of arrogant. He hooks his finger in the side of my panties and pulls them aside. “You sure about that?”

“Yes,” I say adamantly. But it’s a lie. It’s a big, huge, giant, wet lie.

“Care to make a bet?”

No, not really.

He’s still holding my panties to the side, his fingers pressed into the crease of my thigh, taunting and teasing me. He’s so close. Right there. He needs to move over an inch, and he’ll be right where I need him.

So close…

“Fine.” I raise my chin, ready to die on this hill.

“If I find you wet right now, so wet I can slip two fingers inside of you with ease, you let me eat your pussy.” I suck in a breath. How is that a win for him?

“And if I’m not?” I breathe out.

“If you’re not, I’ll walk away and leave you to eat…” He glances at the microwave that still isn’t running, then back at me. “Whatever it was you were going to eat.”

He tilts his head to the side, waiting for an answer. I’m not going to win this bet. I know it. Yet, I still nod my head, because now all my body wants is for him to touch me. And maybe if I say no, I don’t want to make a bet, he’ll leave. I don’t want him to leave.

Enzo came in here, looking all sexy in his pants, making me want him. So damn easily.

Would it be so horrible to have such a sexy husband? One who plays my body like his favorite instrument?

Yeah, because you won’t be the only one he’s fucking.

Nope. No. Not thinking about that.

“Ready?” he asks in a husky tone.

I run my tongue along my bottom lip. “Mhmm.”

Enzo lets go of my panties and they stay in place. Two fingers press down on my clit and my body trembles. I grip the counter tighter, refusing to give him any sound of pleasure. He holds my gaze and I hold his right back. I’m not backing down from this. I’m not giving up. Slowly, he slides his fingers through my folds. His eyes flicker with excitement as his fingers rest over my hole. My soaking wet hole.

He hums a sound of approval. “Angel?”