Lucy Greene and Enzo Russo find each other in a twist of fate and instantly desire takes them over.
But as the real world creeps in around them, it seems that fate has played a trick on them.
Lucy Greene is on her year abroad in Italy when she mee...
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Smirking quietly to myself, I strut down the corridor towards the bathroom as I try to control my thumping pulse. Under my innocent looking top and shorts hides the red lace of my own personal birthday present.
Shucking off my clothes, I stare at myself briefly in the mirror. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a new patch of red, angry stretch marks on my hip and I feel my stomach sink for a moment.
Twisting and turning, I finally shake the insecurities out of my head. Enzo isn't going to notice, or even care about that, we're all just imperfections after all.
Striding back down the hall, I find Enzo sitting patiently on the floor where I left him. His hands are corded with veins flooded with tension and I can practically feel the desire radiating off him.
Tiptoeing over to him, I can tell by the pink hue at the back of his neck that he knows I'm approaching him.
Bending down, I let my red painted lips brush gently against the shell of his ear.
"Good boy," I murmur, "now come and get your reward."
Enzo spins his head around, his hungry eyes devour me. When his hands clench, a buzzing fills the room.
We both look down and see the red vibrator has been turned on accidentally by Enzo's eagerness.
I begin to laugh and wait for Enzo to switch it off, but he doesn't.
Grabbing me with one hand, Enzo pulls me to the floor until I'm sitting between his legs. Those few precious moments where I was in charge and calling the shots are over now as Enzo grips my blonde hair and tugs, forcing me to arch my back and look at him.
"Hold still." He teases as his free hand shifts the lace of my thong to the side and I wait, gasping, for the feeling of his fingers to run over my soaking core.
Instead, I'm met by electronic buzzing on my sensitive nerves which instantly has me throwing my head back against Enzo's shoulder in a moan of pleasure.
"That's it." Enzo praises as my knees drop and I spread myself further for him, "you're my good girl, aren't you."
"Yes." I gasp, biting my lip as moan after moan escapes my lips, "I'm your good girl."
"Fuck." Enzo mutters, tightening his grip on my thigh, "you're insane, Lucy girl, you know that right."
"Please." I beg as he teases my clit over and over again until I'm teetering on the edge of a cliff.
"More?" Enzo teases as he drags his tongue up my neck, "if you want more you have to be a good girl and beg for me."
"Please, please, please. I need this."
"What? You tell me what you need."
"More." I plead, "please Enzo, I need it!"
"Good girl." Enzo kisses my neck and thrusts the vibrator deeper into my core until I'm writhing on the floor, trapped between Enzo's powerful legs.
"Be a good girl for me, Lucia, don't fight this." Enzo commands as wave after wave of desire tingles and trembles through my body until I'm panting against him.
Enzo gently removes the toy as his free hand strokes up and down my thigh. I whimper as his hand finds my core and groan out, "No more."
It surprises me as well as Enzo, but I'm just too damn tired after the week I've had to do anything else.
"Ok my beautiful girl." Enzo coos before scooping me up and carrying me to the bathroom.
He places me gently on the toilet and kisses the crown of my head, "that all too much for you, baby?"
"I think so." I mumble, feeling embarrassed even as sleep claims me.
"Don't feel embarrassed, gorgeous. It's all good." Enzo reassures as he messes with the taps until steam and running water fills the bathroom.
"Happy birthday." He murmurs as he kneels in front of, stroking his palms up and down my thighs.
"Thank you for my present, and the others." I say with a gentle smirk.
Enzo opens his mouth to speak, but he is cut off by his phone ringing. He shoots me an apologetic smile before he walks from the room, answering it as he goes.
He's not gone for long, a few minutes at most, but when he returns, his mood has plummeted. A thick scowl of bad temper adorns his forehead and the tightness of his mouth seems like he will never smile again.
"Who was it?" I ask softly before clambering into the bath.
"My father. He want to meet you."
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