Page 99 of Enzo

His mouth slammed back on mine as his hands traveled south and ripped my bra and panties off my body.

We blindly tore at each other’s clothes until, in the next breath, he was naked too.

My husband’s hands were reverent on me, his rough palms gliding down my ribs, over my hips, spreading my thighs withgentle insistence. He touched me like I was the only thing that made sense. He touched me like he was desperate to commit every inch of my body to memory.

He scooped me up by the globes of my ass, and I wrapped my legs around his waist. His hard length pressed against my hot, throbbing entrance.

He broke the kiss.

Outside, rain continued to thrash at the windows. Inside, only the two of us existed.

Our eyes were locked, his lingering on mine, aching with unspoken things. With longing. With a heat that could consume me.

I shivered with need and emotions that were raw like they’d been sandpapered.

“Please,” I breathed, tipping my head back until it made contact with the hallway wall.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he entered me. I squeezed my eyes shut and gasped, needing to feel him everywhere. I needed his closeness, his heat.

He kissed my throat as he thrust into me, filling me to the hilt.

His breath caught, and a soft moan escaped my lips as his hips rolled into mine.

“More,” I whispered, amazed at how light I felt in his arms. “I need it all.”

He groaned low in his throat, the sound rough and familiar. He thrust inside of me with an intimacy that brought tears to my eyes.

His pelvis ground against mine, igniting sparks that spread from my clit to my toes. Every thrust turned urgent, but then he would ease his movements, as though wanting to prolong the sensation. In and out. Then fast and hard.

Our mouths fused for another kiss, his tongue sliding and licking. Wet and messy.

“My wife,” he rasped as my body shivered with an impending orgasm.

His fist in my hair, he thrust so deep I could feel him in my stomach.

My moans and his grunts vibrated against the walls, and I was sure nothing had ever felt so good.

He nuzzled my neck, his hips pistoning inside me and fucking me like the world was on fire. My pussy clenched around his cock, throbbing as an orgasm so violent raged through me.

I trembled, my legs still wrapped around him, as he followed me over the edge, his breath hot against my neck.

We stayed like that, our bodies molded together and him buried deep inside me. Our harsh breaths slowed, but I couldn’t quiet the whispers in my head.

Why didn’t he say anything when I told him it was him I loved, not his hair?

38

ENZO

Istepped into the hospital room, ducking my shoulders beneath the doorframe. The air was thick with the sterile tang of disinfectant and lemon floor polish, but not even that could scrub away the scent of death. It clung to the walls like smoke, dense and unmoving. The rhythmic beeping of the monitors felt slower here, each sound spaced out like a countdown.

Amara’s mother was asleep on a cot in the corner. The rest of the family had scattered to waiting rooms or cafeterias, trying to find a break from the reality pressing in. That was why I’d chosen this moment. I needed a sliver of time alone with her.

My sister-in-law—caught in a world that punished innocence—looked impossibly small beneath the hospital blankets. Her body seemed to sink into them, as if she were trying to disappear.

When her eyes fluttered open and she saw me, she smiled. Or tried to. It looked like it cost her something.

Her skin had turned a pale, yellow hue, and deep shadows framed her eyes. Pain had carved itself into every line of her face.