Page 20 of King of Obsession (Kings of the Underworld #1)

Enzo makes me feel things I can’t describe, let alone comprehend.

With him, I’ve tapped into a new world of sensations, riding the highest emotional wave possible. He’s so entrancing, making me feel as if I am constantly dizzy.

With him, I am never on alert, not thinking about my posture, my words, my actions. There are no power games we play, even though the atmosphere is always playful.

His words play in my head on repeat and desire swirls low in my belly, my thighs clenching in response. I let out a shaky breath, eager to experience that ultimate pleasure he so generously gives me.

In his presence, I forget everything. He’s beckoning me deeper and deeper into his dark lair with sinful promises of experiences I am eager to feel.

If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up, aware nothing will ever compare to the things I experience with him.

He straps the sandals back on my feet, the gesture melting me.

No one has ever taken care of me. He does it so selflessly, so instinctively, as if he can’t help himself.

I fear for this heart of mine that’s been longing for more ever since I can remember, while I’ve successfully ignored it until Enzo barged into my life.

Maybe he’s right, and this is fate. Then why would it be so cruel to bring him across my path in the first place? Haven’t I dealt with enough loss?

As we leave the restaurant behind, I curl my arm around his, letting him lead me and not for the first time tonight—something I thought I’d never allow a man to do, but with him I love that I can let go. He has me, and I know I am safe. Nothing can touch me.

Sadness crashes over me at the thought that this will soon come to an end. All I’ll be left with is desolation, replaying the memories of my time with him in a hellish loop of regret and unfulfilled wishes.

Even though it’s a short walk to the limo, a shiver runs down my body. The chill of the night awakens goose bumps, not the sensual kind. He stops and shimmies out of his suit jacket, placing it over my shoulders, shrouding me in his delicious heat and scent.

He takes my hand, interlinking our fingers. I hold on to him with all my might as if once I let go, he will slip away, and I’ll be left alone with no one truly understanding me—cursed once again to live a solitary life consisting of hits and making sure Augustus’s power flourishes.

I glance at the garden, and he looks at my feet, then back at my face.

“Those could be considered weapons.”

“They’re pretty.” Heels are not known to be comfortable or practical.

“They’re hurting you.” He glares at them. It wouldn’t surprise me if his hard stare incinerated them for causing me discomfort.

My insides turn to mush, my heart singing a song to him and opening for heartbreak. He has turned me into this emotional being. I don’t like that he has so much power over me. I pull back my hand and speed walk down the garden path, needing a moment to compose myself.

Soft golden round lights are placed strategically on each side of the pavement, leading to a fountain in the middle.

“This won’t work like this,” he says, erasing the distance and walking by my side.

I purse my lips. “This won’t work at all.”

I barely take two more steps when he hauls me from the ground and tosses me over his shoulder.

“Put me down, you brute,” I say, pummeling his back, wanting to punish him for causing this disconnect between my brain and heart.

Of course, he doesn’t listen because this man is custom made to make me lose my sanity. It’s not the only thing I am losing over him, and it terrifies me.

He won’t let go. He’ll make me face what I don’t want to because then my life will be altered irrevocably. I could never return to the status quo and that has been the only thing keeping me going.

He pushes me inside the limousine, discarding me in the back seat. His dark and broody energy wraps around me, thrilling me.

“Put the partition up, Tomaso,” he commands and when it’s up, secluding us in privacy, I move further away, not wanting to make it easy for him. But he’s the apex predator, easily overpowering me, making me aware that there’s no escape—only to fall right into his arms.

He wants me, and he will take me, as it’s the universal rule of our story.

A tremor wracks through me, and I experience a bout of frustration coupled with blinding desire.

“On your knees,” he demands.

A wave of lust surges through me. I will lose, but I refuse to make it so easy for him.

“Ask nicely.”

Through gritted teeth, he says, “On your knees. Now. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

The threat shouldn’t be hot, yet it is. I slide to my knees, baring my teeth to let him know I am not pleased at all. He loves to strip me bare, forcing me to obey him. He has me, but he’ll learn a lesson too. My submission is on my terms.

I look up at him, knowing exactly what he wants, but stubbornly cross my arms over my chest.

He arches a brow. “Playing games, amore?”

I huff. “Suck yourself off, amore. I’ll bite your cock off.”

“First, take it in your mouth. Though I doubt you can cram even half of my cock in.”

The challenge does what it’s supposed to do—makes me want to prove him wrong that I can take him even if I will most certainly choke to death on it, but I won’t back off.

“Take my cock out. Fucking now.”

How is it possible that I get wetter at his command, hotter, so wanton that I need to obey him and end this show of defiance? The sooner I do what he demands, the sooner I will find relief for my aching core.

With shaky fingers, I unbuckle him, taking out his cock that leaks pre-cum as if weeping for my attention. He leans back, closing his eyes for a moment, relaxing and so damn sure I will suck his cock like a good girl.

Just to piss him off, I nip the crown. The growl he lets out almost makes me come.

In one swift move, he fists his hand in my hair, pushing my face into his lap.

“If you act like a brat, I’m going to treat you like one.”

And then he fucks my mouth like he owns it, turning me into a hot mess. I choke on his cock, gagging every time he hits the back of my throat, and he’s not even halfway in. Spit drips down my chin as he continues plunging his enormous shaft into my mouth.

“Jesus Christ, you take me so fucking well.”

Tears stream down my face, but he looks at me as if I am fascinating, motivating me to bring him to his knees.

At some point, his grip loosens, and he gives me more leeway. I don’t make the same mistake again as I suck on his crown, nibbling along his length that I don’t even exaggerate—it’s longer than my face.

The sounds of pleasure rumbling in his throat direct me and coupled with his words of encouragement, I continue, giving him my first blow job. Another first .

I always thought it degrading, but this week, I realized I knew nothing about sex. It’s a powerful tool. I am on my knees for him, but he’s the one at my will.

“Fuck, you look so beautiful, mouth full of my cock, lipstick smeared and mascara running.”

I pin him with an annoyed look.

A lopsided grin arches the corners of his mouth. “Messy, greedy, sexual. That’s you, Luciana. Now I have to fuck that pretty mouth daily. You’re so good at this.”

I try to take more of him. His praise only makes me want to swallow all of him.

He guides me with his hand at the back of my head. “Fuuuck, amore. Fucking hell, you’re killing me.”

At least I kill him in one way, I think as he slips in my throat, past my gag reflex I try to breathe through my nose, but it’s like he’s ruining my esophagus.

Glancing up at him, he’s lost in pleasure, eyes dilated and jaw tight, breathing heavily. I might look like a mess, but he’s no different.

I take another full breath before I deepthroat him again and again, delirious to please him, and getting more desperate for my own release. I never thought sucking him would make me so wanton. My core throbs, and I clench my thighs just to ease the pressure a bit.

He fists my hair and pulls out, slapping his cock against my mouth. “Open wide. I am coming.”

“Was that a request?” I ask, catching my breath.

“Take my cum, Luciana, and say thank you.”

I am about to give him a piece of my mind when he thrusts his cock back into my mouth, erupting. He fills my mouth with a sticky liquid, and I swallow it on instinct.

“Good girl. Don’t waste a drop. You’ve worked my cock well enough to deserve my cum.”

I glare at him. “So gracious, sir. Thank you. You’re truly a selfless soul,” my deceptively sweet voice rings with sarcasm and his chest rocks with laughter.

One moment I want to kill him for his arrogance, and the next, I want to beg him to fuck me.

Swiping his thumb across my chin and lips, he feeds me the rest of his release. I lick his finger clean, gravitating in his orbit with no way to escape. There are forces I can’t control nor manipulate—out of my power.

He pulls me to his lap, kissing me with so much passion I openly welcome the madness. The only way with him is to fall, hard and deep—irrevocably.

With a minimum recovery period, he bunches my dress up and just pushes inside of me, filling me to the brim. I gasp in half a moan, half a whine. He’s that freaking big and as he lets me adjust to his size, which I think will always be the case, he strokes down my back.

“You’ll pay for reconstructing my pussy after it takes your monster cock,” I pant.

He smiles in my neck, nibbling along the sensitive skin.

“Your pussy does what it’s supposed to do, stretch to its limits to take me. I take pride in fucking this pussy to my cock’s shape.” But then he tips my chin up, his eyes boring into mine. Something soft crosses his face and he brushes his knuckles along my cheek. “Am I hurting you?”

He does in more ways than one, but physically not so. “You’re big, but it feels so good. I like that bite of pain. It makes me think you have all the control and I have no other choice but to take you.”

“You were made for me, amore mio.”

I am afraid I am.