Page 72 of Jordan

“Yeah?” I whimper, my legs trembling.

“You lost,” he whispers, slipping his fingers inside me. I cry out, shooting up to my toes. My back bows from the counter, pushing his fingers deeper. He slides them all the way in, stroking my inside walls before pulling them out and shoving them back in with ease. He groans, this deep rumble of a sound and shockwaves of lust jolt through me.

My eyes squeeze shut as he fucks me slowly with his fingers, the wet sounds echoing around the silent room. When he pulls them out, my eyes dart open. So does my mouth, ready to tell him off. He needs to keep going! But before I can yell at him for stopping, his hands are on my ass and he’s lifting me to sit on the cold marble counter. He crouches down, spreading my knees wide and diving in.

He drags the flat of his tongue from bottom to top, licking me up and suckling on my clit. My head falls back, banging against the cabinets. I grab onto the edge of the counter as he devours me in a way I’ve never been devoured before. He’s slow but meticulous, like he’s savoring me. Similar to the way Rafael did, but with more. Just more. Like he wants this more, enjoys it more, wants me to enjoy it more. Like he’s trying to prove a point and show me he’s better.

There’s something about the way Enzo touches me that isn’t only for my pleasure, but his too. I noticed it at the club, and it’s no different tonight or the night in the theater.

Being with Rafael was fun. I knew what he was doing was for his pleasure as much as my own. When I was with Zach, it was all for him. But with Enzo? Everything is so meticulous. So controlled. He does things that please me first, and it’s like his pleasure is tied to that. Doing things I like brings him his pleasure.

Sounds a little twisted since he isn’t the submissive one, but what do I know?

“Are you mad, angel?” he asks as he slides a finger inside of me.

“About—what?” I pant, grasping at his hair and tugging.

“That you lost,” he says, running his nose along the inside of my thigh. He pushes his finger all the way into me, pressing upwards and dragging it out. I moan, my eyes falling shut again.

“No,” I breathe out. “No, no, no,” I chant as my hips rock against his finger. “Please, keep going. More.”

He delivers without a word, flicking my clit with his hot tongue.

Before I know it, the heat of an orgasm builds in my lower stomach. The way Enzo can make me come so quickly is ridiculous. It shouldn’t be possible. How the hell is he this skilled?

“Enzo,” I moan, thrusting my hips against his tongue and gripping his hair tighter.

“Yes, angel. Give it to me.”

He groans against me, suckles on my clit, and the orgasm crashes over me so hard I see stars. The counter beneath me grows slippery and Enzo digs his hands into my thighs to hold me in place as he keeps going, the orgasm lasting for what feels like forever.

When he stands, the light from the window flickers across him. His face and chest are dripping.

Dripping.

My eyes widen as fear freezes me. My heart is pounding, and I’m panting to catch my breath.

“Did-Did I—”

I can’t get the words out.

First, it’s my period.

Now, I—oh, god. I peed on him?

“Angel, that was by far the sexiest thing I’ve ever experienced. You just came so hard you squirted all over me.”

He’s panting too. Looking like he’s about to lose his control any second.

“I—what?”

Enzo tilts my chin up and leans down to kiss me. He kisses me and his mouth is soaked, both tangy and sweet and—

He pulls back, fingers digging into my thighs. I stare at the little droplets dripping down his chest, and I’m so confused. I squirted? I don’t know what that means.

“I want so badly to fuck this perfect cunt, angel. Fuck, you have no goddamn idea how badly I want it.”

I search his eyes, another wave of lust coursing through me. “Do it,” I tell him.