Hexed (Never After #6)

46. Enzo

FORTY-SIX

ENZO

Coming home to Venesa is an experience .

She may not realize it yet, judging by how surprised she was when I had her refurbish the entire apartment, but she’s it for me. And I don’t care what anyone else has to say about it.

Maybe it’s the honeymoon phase, and maybe it will wear off in the future, but whenever I look at her, whenever I think about her, I feel the same way I did when I was a kid, wishing I had true love.

I’m scared to tell her that, though. She’s wary of men, of relationships, and…I don’t want her to run away. I want to know that she’s in this too.

And Gio, the smart motherfucker that he is, suggested we sit down and talk .

So that’s my plan.

After I fuck her again, obviously. I’m riding high from my meeting with De Luca.

Turns out, when someone forcibly takes power the way my pops did, they make more enemies than friends. And those enemies have been biding their time, waiting for the right moment.

I’ll kill my father, take over his seat, and reinstate the commission, letting the don of each family have a place at the table.

Grabbing Venesa’s hand, I pull her up from the bed and move her to the mirror, because I want her to see us together, want her to watch what she looks like to me, and I want to see it on her face as she realizes how fucking perfect we are.

And maybe she already knows, but it doesn’t matter if she does because I’ll tell her every day anyway.

I slide my hands down her arms as I stand behind her, staring at our reflection.

She already looks freshly fucked, her makeup smeared, her red lipstick rubbed off almost entirely and smudged around her lips.

“Hands on the mirror, baby.”

Venesa does what I ask without complaint, and it sends a rush through me to have such a powerful woman surrender so completely. To trust me the way she does.

It’s fucking sexy.

I grip the base of my cock and line up behind her, my head prodding at her tight wet hole. My free hand glides along her back, glistening with a sheen of sweat, most likely from how hard she just came all over my face. I lick my lips to get another taste.

My palm keeps moving until I reach her shoulder, where I give a slight squeeze before continuing until I wrap around the front of her neck, cupping her throat, keeping pressure off her windpipe.

I watch her reaction in the mirror.

Her eyes flare, and she bites the corner of her bottom lip.

She likes it.

It’s torture when I push into her slowly, holding back even though she’s wrapping me up so tightly.

“Do you see how good you look, under my hands, taking my cock?” I ask her. Our eyes lock on each other in the reflection.

“Yes,” she murmurs, pushing herself onto me, trying to take more.

Tsk-tsking at her, I pull back out and tighten my grip on her throat. “Greedy girl, aren’t you?”

“Enzo, fuck me.”

I lean over her, my stomach flipping and cock jerking with the need to obey her command. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

And then I slam into her, doing what she wants anyway.

She lets out a guttural moan, her eyes rolling up in her head at the feel, and I squeeze her neck again, my palm resting on the necklace I bought her. It fills me with so much joy when I see her wearing it. Especially when it’s the only thing she’s wearing.

“Do you like this?”

“Mmm.” She nods.

I pull out and slowly slide back in, and she’s so wet, my dick glides in easily.

My heart spasms in my chest, and I thrust harshly again, slipping my cock in from root to tip, then rotating my hips once I’m all the way inside her. My fingers tighten more on her neck, slowing her breathing down, but I’m watching carefully to make sure she isn’t in pain.

Her mouth parts and her eyes widen, but she never drops my gaze. And her cunt is drenching me.

I’m fucking up into her now at a steady pace, her tits jiggling with the motion, hanging down from how she’s bent over while I take her from behind.

My free hand reaches up and holds her breast because I can’t resist when they’re right there, so juicy and full and begging me to hold them.

I watch her face turn red and feel her pussy quivering around me. “That’s my girl.”

Releasing her breast, I move down and pull my cock almost entirely out of her, my fingers dipping into the wet, sloppy mess and dragging it up until I circle the sweet round bud of her asshole, making it well lubricated.

She tries to suck in air, but it’s restricted, and the sight of her at my mercy, so trusting, has me almost losing it before she does.

Fuck.

My eyes meet hers in the mirror, and I thrust my hips forward, my cock slipping back into her tight channel inch by inch. At the same time, my finger brushes against her other entrance, pushing through the resistance and sliding in and out slowly. Softly, because I know it takes preparation and a slow stretch to really feel good.

Her pouty mouth parts, and her eyes roll up in her head, her body growing lax beneath my ministrations. My hand tightens on her neck, anchoring myself to her while I fill both her holes with me, and her palms smack against the mirror, leaving smudged handprints on the glass.

Her pussy contracts around my length, squeezing and releasing, and the sight of her this way, so open and vulnerable, has heat spreading through my lower abdomen and wrapping around the base of my spine like wildfire.

I peer down at where I disappear inside her, my cock jumping at the sight. “Look at you, greedy girl, sucking me in like you can’t get enough.”

“Enzo,” she groans. Sweat beads at her temples, making her hair stick to the sides of her face, and her cheeks are flushed the perfect rosy pink.

She’s close.

“That’s it, baby. Give it to me. I’m so proud of you,” I whisper, because I know praise gets her off.

She explodes around me, and I’m right there with her, sinking all the way inside and unloading deep in her pussy, imagining my cum filling her up and tying her to me in another way, a way that means she could never leave, making my orgasm last for what feels like ages.

Out of breath, I collapse onto her back and release her throat, pressing lazy kisses to her spine, my face sticking to her skin from the perspiration.

I wonder if she realizes she holds all the power here, that I would crawl on my knees to be wherever she is.

I’m still wondering the same thing an hour later when I’m standing behind Venesa and pulling her into me while she heats two plates of food Scotty covered and left in the oven for us with a note.

Now Scotty and Bastien are both gone, obviously leaving when they realized I was making Venesa scream.

The elevator dings, and my brows furrow as I look over toward the entryway.

Who the fuck now?

Venesa stiffens slightly and looks back at me. “You really just let anyone walk into your apartment like this? Honestly, Enzo, it’s ridiculous.”

“Not usually, no,” I reply.

The doormen know I’m not supposed to have any more visitors. I don’t know who the fuck that could be.

I debate going for my gun, but it’s in the other room, and even though Venesa can take care of herself, I don’t want to leave her alone. Still, I turn around and keep her behind me when I hear footsteps walking down the hall and into the living area.

My body tenses further when Pops walks into the space, then turns until he sees us in the kitchen.

“Well, isn’t this cozy?”

Fear grips me. Damn it. I didn’t want him to know about her.

Ever.

And his being here right now? It makes me nervous because I can count on one hand the number of times Pops has stepped foot in my apartment, and it’s never been for a friendly visit, and the fact it’s happening directly after a meeting with Matteo De Luca has me on edge.

He smiles at me, and I fake one back, grabbing Venesa’s hand and bringing her to my side.

I’m incredibly uncomfortable, but I don’t want him to suspect anything’s up. To him? We should be copacetic.

“Well, aren’t you going to introduce us?” He nods toward Venesa and moves into the kitchen until he’s standing directly across from us.

I smile and clear my throat, hoping the panic doesn’t show on my face. “What are you doing here?” I ask.

He gives a smarmy look. “Am I not allowed to visit my son?”

“You are,” I say slowly. “You just usually don’t. But it’s a nice surprise.” Swallowing, I introduce them. “This is Venesa.”

I expect her to cower, the same way I think anyone else would. Carlos Marino has a reputation, and meeting him has to be especially hard for Venesa because she knows he favored her cousin. I wouldn’t blame her for being nervous.

“Ah,” he says. “The woman who ruined my son’s marriage.”

She forces a grin, those dimples popping out, and releases my hand to walk forward and shake his. “It’s a pleasure, Mr. Marino. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

If I wasn’t sure before this moment that she was my queen, then this would confirm it.

She’s poise and grace in the face of adversity. Polished on the outside. And it gives me a thrill to know she’s capable of being so bad at the flip of a switch.

He takes her hand and brings it to his lips.

My hands clench to temper the urge to rip her away from him.

“I’m sorry I can’t say the same,” he replies, clucking his tongue. “Not from my son anyway.”

What’s that supposed to mean? My spine stiffens. He’s implying he heard about her from someone, and I flip through who even knew about her to say something.

A rat.

“I know you, though,” he continues. “I’m very surprised to see you in my son’s kitchen. You’re a much more forgiving man than me, Enzo.”

Venesa takes a step back from him, ripping her hand from his grip.

My brows furrow in confusion, and I can’t help the laugh that escapes me. “Why’s that?”

I move next to her, giving her a funny look.

“Nervous?” Pops smiles at her.

Her chin stiffens.

“Oh, I see.” He tsk-tsks. “You didn’t tell him, did you? You stupid little girl.”

“Don’t talk to her like that,” I snap. “What the fuck ?”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “You’ve always been so naive. So blind to what’s right in front of you, figlio mio .”

“This isn’t the time, Pops. You’re in my house. You’ll respect the people in it, including me and her.”

“I think this is the perfect time,” he parries, his voice like a thunderclap that strikes across the room. “Don’t you, Venesa? ”

He elongates her name, almost making it sound like a song.

Again, I look at her, expecting for her to look just as confused as I am.

But she doesn’t. She looks scared.

And that terrifies me.

“Somebody better tell me what the fuck is going on right now.”

Pops’s eyes twinkle with mirth, and he keeps staring at Venesa. “I’ve waited a long time to look into the eyes of the woman who tore this family apart.”

I laugh, thinking it’s a joke, but the way Venesa stiffens sends red flags waving and sirens blaring in my psyche.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I demand.

Now Pops looks at me. “I’m talking about the fact the woman you’re fucking is the one who killed your brother.”