Page 8 of Lethal Bliss

I should stop crying now, but I just can't. I only manage a quick nod and a sniff and then my body shudders with fresh sobbing.

Enzo bends and reaches for my lips.

It’s so unexpected that I don't have time to think about it. The brief moment before our lips meet, when he looks into my eyes with a question in his, is not nearly enough for me to decide. Yet my lips part of their own volition, hungry for whatever his are bringing.

He claims my lips, gently, first with a slight brush of his and then a light kiss. It’s another subtle request for access. I respond to it eagerly, desperate for the escape he holds.

His hands find my waist and circle it easily. Instinctively, I reach up and link my fingers behind his neck. Now my chest is pressed against his taut, muscle-bound body. I want to meld my own body with his, to lose my emotion in whatever comfort I can find in that broad capable chest of his.

His kisses deepen now, and in a moment, I feel his tongue sliding into my mouth, reaching for mine. I suck on it, and he lets out a small groan. It’s deep and guttural and evokes my deepest and most primitive desires.

Down below, my faucet starts to leak.

At this moment, I'm well past the point of restraint. There’s a pent-up emotion within me that needs to be released. It started to build up the moment Enzo stormed into that motel room, eyes flashing and waving his gun carelessly, first like the danger that had come in to obliterate me and then like my knight in shining armor. Now it's choking me on the inside, pushing hard against every inch of my mind in search of an escape.

Enzo has the magic wand that can set me free. But to reach for it now might be crossing a certain line. I struggle with my uncertainty, overcome with the urge to reach for it and yet terrified by the possibility that might follow if I awaken it.

Without any warning, Enzo bends to grab hold of my ass and lifts me off my feet into the air. A gasp escapes my lips, and I cling closely to his neck for dear life. Instinctively, my legs wrap around his waist for support as he begins to walk to the bed on the other side of the room.

It’s going to happen after all.

Now my heart begins to race.

CHAPTER 5

Enzo

AsI near the bed with Flora in my hands, my senses begin to return to me.

She's clinging so tightly to my neck that her breasts are squashed against my chest. Her breasts are generously proportioned and soft, and the flimsy material of her shirt is not nearly enough to diminish their effect on my bare skin.

It’s difficult, if not impossible, to keep ahold of my senses. Her heady perfume doesn’t help matters. It fills my nostrils and clouds my reasoning.

When I reach the bed, I kneel on its edge to lower her gently on her back, and she lets go of my neck. However, her eyes stay on me, those big blue eyes holding me in place with invisible hands, luring me in, into their depths. Her lips are slightly parted in a silent invitation. They’re full, they’re red, and they’re tempting, practically begging me for another kiss.

I pull my gaze away from them, but that takes it inadvertently lower, to her chest.

Her shirt is tousled. A button must have come loose or open at some point during our flight from the motel room or when I lifted her here. But I can tell that the creamy mounds partially exposed by the slight opening is not encased in a bra.

The knowledge makes my head pound with a rush of blood. However, it’s nothing compared to the rush between my legs. I can feel myself getting hard by the second.

Her shirt lies flat over her taut stomach, and when my eyes stray past her torso, they trace the gentle curve of her hips, covered in a pair of black denims that accentuate that curve. A maddening need to rip her clothes off takes hold of me. This need is a living thing, gripping me in a chokehold so tight I can only manage the shallowest of breaths.

You shouldn’t.

The warning is faint, almost inaudible in the chaos that is my head. I should heed it and back away, but I don’t. Against my better judgment, I lower myself slowly over her.

Her legs are open, still loosely hanging from my waist. They reel me in, onto her body. She raises her head to reach for my lips as I settle over her. I meet hers with gratitude.

There is a hunger in her kissing that takes me by surprise. It tugs at the leash holding me back and comes really close to unraveling it. I can’t say if it’s the incredible softness of those lips that hold me back. They border on a delicateness that worries me. I don’t want to leave bruises on her mouth.

I try to maintain as much self-control as I can while I kiss her. Matching her silent demands without going overboard is a challenge that takes more from me than I expect. Her hands find my nape again, and her fingers get lost in my hair.

Beneath me, her body is pliant and welcoming. I want to ravish every inch of it as I pull away from her lips and find the sensitive hollow at the base of her neck.

I kiss it once, twice, and then thrice before moving up to the side of her neck to plant a love bite. All it takes is a little sucking, and she’s whimpering. I go lower again, away from her neck and perilously close to those succulent mounds.

I palm them through her shirt, one after the other, and knead gently.