Passport to Him - Page 51

The short ride in the elevator to our floor felt like it took hours. The overwhelming anticipation I felt in this moment was unlike any other.

Ding.

The elevator doors opened to a darkened hallway. He motioned for me to exit. His fingers grazed my hips as he followed behind me. My skin was suddenly awoken as if my body has been asleep for years. My steps cushioned on the charcoal carpet. I felt as if hell was a darkened tunnel. It’s dark-grey walks and bright wall lights seemed like it went on forever.

A never-ending dark wall to hell, seems about right.

He stops at a ruby red door with a black “302” plaque hanging in the middle of the door. As he opened the door with a keycard, I drew in a long desperate breath. My first steps in the room were careful. He placed the bottle of wine in his hands on the table near the door before putting his back against the crimson fleur-de-lis patten covered wallpaper. He watched me intently take in every detail. His thumb grazed over his open mouth and the move didn’t go unnoticed by me. My fingers grazed across the black bedspread before looking at a mirrored wall in front of me. In blood red paint was written “Welcome to Hell.”

“You took me to hell,” I whisper, meeting his intense gaze.

“I did.”

I reach down and nervously play with the ring on my finger, numbly spinning it around. He walks over from the wall, taking my hand softly in his. His fingers grazing across the cold golden metal of my ring.

“A claddagh,” he whispers.

“I am half Irish.”

“So is this Finn.”

“Enzo,” I warn.

“Should I be worried?” He asks, his fingers playing mindlessly with mine.

“You want the truth?” I ask.

“That serious?”

“I’m not going to lie and say there wasn’t anything there with him. He’s a really good man and there was something there,” I said.

“And he helped you with your passport.”

“He did,” I agree.

“You have feelings for him,” he says.

“There are feelings, and I don’t know how strong. I don’t,” I said, my shoulders shrugging in doubt and defeat.

I sat defeatedly against the black bedspread with a deep resounding sigh.

“He’s protective of me,” I whisper.

“How can you not be protective of perfection?” Lorenzo asks.

“I’m not perfect.”

“But, you are so confident, princessa,” he says.

My confusion and self-doubt boiling into irritation and frustration. I push his towering body away from me. Seeking solace next to the hell mirror in front of me.

“I’m not. I’m not confident, Enzo. This is an act,” I say, turning around to face the man staring back at me.

“I know what I see,” Enzo says, his large hand cupping my cheek.

“You know what I let you see, Enzo!” I exclaim, pushing him away.

I can’t hold up the act any longer. I can’t act like this is normal. This isn’t me.

“I don’t know what Antonio is to you. I don’t know what you do for a living. I don’t know where you’re from. I don’t know you and you don’t know me. But I let you have your fingers inside me while people walked past us, and I didn’t even know I was capable of that!” I exclaim, my voice getting progressively louder with noticeable frustration.

“People do unimaginable things when you have a connection with someone,” he says.

“You go to a movie and dinner with someone you have a connection with. You don’t have dirty, certifiable porn star sex in public with a man you know nothing about!” I exclaim.

“You are an enigma, princessa,” Enzo says.

My eyes fluttered shut after rolling my eyes in frustration, “Stop calling me that.”

I took a deep breath and turned back around to face him, “Lorenzo, I can’t deny there is something with Finn, I breathe.

“I’m from Sadoca, Sicily. I was adopted when I was a child. Antonio is like a brother to me and he’s a partner at my job. I know there is something between us. I don’t know what. I don’t know why, but I know that I can’t get enough of you. I took you to hell, but I will take you to heaven. You just say the word, princessa,” he says, his breath ragged and short.

As much as I feel for Finn, I cannot deny the sheer magnetic pull I have towards the man in front of me. Lust? A fling?

In this moment, my insides scream at me they knew before my brain did. My thighs got warm as the wetness pool inside yet again. His sly smirk turned into an amused and toothy grin directed at me.

“A little sin never hurt anyone,” I whisper.

He pressed his large, muscled body between my legs as he pushed me against the bed. The look in his eyes is that of a hunter stalking his prey. His eyes darkened with passion. He kissed me in a fit of lust that my body craved. Our tongues entangled together, my breath leaving my lungs. He moved my hair away from my face, entangling my curls in his tatted and ring full grip. With one pull of my hair, he has me on all fours in front of him on the bed. The bottom of my tight dress was rolled up methodically and pushed past my breasts as it hung loosely around my neck.

“I can’t contain myself with you,” he says.

His deep sigh escaping from his mouth sounded almost like a moan. He slid his hand along the inside of my thigh and up towards the middle of my stomach. His fingers gingerly grazing over the lace, before suddenly violently tugging on the fabric. I look behind me as he puts the frayed and ripped panties in his pants pocket before unzipping and exposing his long cock, ready for me.

“Enzo,” I moan.

“You moaning my name makes my cock want to own you. I am fucking addicted to you, princessa.”

“Then show me what I do to you. Use your mouth for something other than talking,” I say, looking behind me at the literal look of want on his face.

I laid down flat on the bedspread and pushed my ass into the air to meet him. A resounding SMACK rips through the air as his palm meets the skin of my right ass cheek in a sweet sting. I giggle in amusement that he just spanked me.

He just spanked me, and it was hot. I now laid on all fours on full display in front of him.

Waiting.

Wanting.

Needing.

Tags: Brittany McMahan Erotic
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