“Thank you for this. You were right. I needed to eat.” I wipe my mouth with a napkin.
Enzo picks French fries off my plate without asking and dips them in my ketchup. It doesn’t bother me one bit.
“Do you feel better?” he asks.
I speak from my heart, looking him right in the eye. “I always feel better when I’m with you.”
He smiles but says nothing. I watch as he cleans up our dinner, rolling the room service cart into the hallway. I sit on the edge of the bed, legs together, feet dangling in the air. I watch him walk back to me. I feel like I should leave, but I know I’m not going to. I want him to come closer and he does. He walks toward me until he’s standing right in front of me. I look up at him, and then he drops to his knees.
My gaze follows his and with him kneeling before me, his eyes are even with mine. He places his hands on the bed beside me. Our bodies are not touching . . . but I want them to be. Pieces of me are screaming out for him to get closer. Desire runs hot in my blood. My heart pounds and my breath quickens, but all he does is look at me. I want him. I want to kiss him but he’s just kneeling there staring at me. Completely hypnotized, I can’t look away from his gaze. The air between us is heavy, and the anticipation of what’s about to happen is suffocating and thrilling at the same time. Sensing my poignant desire, he leans closer and his hips press against my knees.
“Spread your legs,” he whispers.
It’s not a demand or a question. It’s just what we both want. I do as he says and his waist fits between my knees. His suit pants brush against my stockings and make a rustling sound. He touches my shoulders, then my neck, then my face. His lips wrap around mine. My legs tangle around his waist and my arms snake around his neck as he kisses me. I pull his face closer. His lips are soft but aggressive. Our mouths open and melt together, and I feel his hot breath against my cheek.
He pushes me down on to the bed, and I can feel him. He’s hard where I’m soft and wet. I feel it through our clothing. Ripples of chills run through me. He slides up and down against me as we kiss, and we moan together at the pleasure and heat rising and growing between us. I want him so badly, but he stops our kiss. With his arms at either side of my face, he looks down at me, but his hips keep moving. His hardness keeps sliding and grinding between my legs, against my body where I most want to feel it. His eyes narrow as he moves, and he inhales and then sighs. I bring my hands up and run them over his jaw, through his hair, over his head, and down his shoulders. I begin to unbutton his shirt. My mouth falls open as he rubs against me faster. I don’t care if it’s wrong. I want him inside me. I pull him down so I can kiss him again. Our tongues touch and withdraw as I hold his face, and his hands explore my body. My arms, my breasts, the back of my thighs, my neck. My skin knows that his hands are new and different. It’s exhilarating. We kiss deeply as he moves against me, and my skin is on fire. I push the straps of my dress down. I want to feel his body, naked.