Does It Hurt?: An Enemies to Lovers Romance
Does It Hurt?: Chapter 26

I’m peering through a cloud of red fury as I lift my leg and power it into the door, cracking the wood. I need to get to Sawyer—it’s all I can feel, think, breathe. Get to Sawyer.

Just as I’m getting ready to kick it through a second time, I hear the tinkle of keys before the lock clicks.

I ready myself as the door swings open, the wrong side of the barrel being pointed in my direction the first thing I see.

Sylvester glares at me from behind the weapon, taking a step back and jerking the gun toward the stairs. “Go.”

Fuming and silent, I step out of the room and head toward the steps. The press of metal is lodged into my back as I slowly walk, Sylvester’s wooden peg carrying him right behind me.

“Where’s Sawyer?” I growl.

“Gone, but don’t worry, I’ll get ’er back.”

“Did you hurt her?” I bite out.

“Ya know, it didn’t have’ta go down this way, son,” he says, ignoring me. My fury heightens, and I’m now peering through a black cloud. I’ll gladly hand my soul over to the devil if he hurt her.

“I’ve given you far too much leniency when I shoulda blown yer head off from the start.”

“You should’ve,” I agree. That would’ve been the only thing to save his life.

“And I will once Sawyer comes back. I think if I kill ya prematurely, she’ll take herself in that ocean.”

Not so sure about that, but I’ll let him believe it anyway. Despite what Sawyer thinks, she’s a fighter. She’s done nothing but fight for the better half of her life.

She wouldn’t become a meager little slave, resolute to spend the rest of her life trapped somewhere. No, she would do everything in her power to get the fuck out of there, even if it meant getting more blood on her hands.

Fuck, I love her.

The little thief is capable of so much; it’ll only be Sylvester’s demise if he forces her into that position.

But he won’t get the chance to. Instead, I’ll be his demise.

Keeping silent, I reach the steps and speed-walk down them, making it hard for Sylvester to catch up. In his attempt to, I hear him stumble forward.

I have literally two seconds, but I’m quite accustomed to outmaneuvering a shark in its own territory. I’ve no doubt I can handle a man with a log for a leg.

In a blink, I’m pitching myself over the side of the railing, the floor only five or so feet below. He fires off a shot, the heat of the bullet zipping over my shoulder. It hits something in the kitchen while I grab ahold of the long barrel and yank it from his grip.

“Son of a bitch!” he spits, attempting to hold on to it, but I’m too strong for him.

I flip the gun on him, enjoying how he freezes, his face purpling from anger.

“Don’t stop on my account. Let’s see you finish stumbling your way down.”

“I’m going to fu—”

“Not really interested in hearing about your dreams, Sylvester. Hurry up,” I snap.

Grunting, he reaches the bottom step, glaring at me from beneath his bushy brows. I glance around, noticing the rug and table have been moved aside. In their place is a cellar, the door wide open. I assume that’s where he planned on keeping me in the meantime.

“Don’t think you have what it takes to kill a man,” Sylvester drawls. He’s sweating profusely, the edges of his ball cap stained.

He’s wrong. I’d be happy to show him he’s not the only one who knows how to take a life. He can have everything he’s ever wanted. To forever stay on Raven Isle, even in the afterlife.

As badly as I’m itching to kill him, I care more about what happens to us after than satisfying the need to feel his blood on my hands.

“Get in,” I say, motioning toward the cellar with the gun.

“My leg—”

“Is useless, I know. Not my problem. Make me ask again, and I’ll shoot off the other, so you have a matching set.”

He scowls, aiming another glare my way as he hobbles toward the cellar. Once he’s in front of it, I decide to make it easy on him. Lifting my leg, I power it straight into his back, sending him flying down the hole.

He shouts, and whatever way he must have landed isn’t too pretty, considering his yelling turns into an outright roar.

Again. Not my problem.

When I look down into it, I replace him only about twenty feet down, rolling to lay flat on his back, curses and spittle flying from his lips.

I have no sympathy. Shooting him one last look, I grab the door and slam it shut. There’s a simple sliding mechanism to lock it, and while I’d prefer a deadbolt, it’s the best I can do for now.

Sylvester never said if Sawyer was hurt, and every molecule in my body is now centered on her.

As I’m making my way to the door, I notice a blanket lying haphazardly on the couch. I snatch it, just in case I need to staunch a wound, or fuck, even for if she’s a little cold.

It takes me only a few minutes to get to the cave, every second feeling too long.

“Sawyer!” I yell, stomping through the tunnel.

“Enzo?” she answers, eagerness saturating my name. Just as I reach the opening beneath the glowworms, I see her rushing toward me, her skin awash in blue.

Her face is slack with relief, and her teeth are chattering.

It’s freezing in here. With the constant storms, the temperature has dropped significantly.

“You hurt?” I ask, my gaze sweeping across her body while I set down the shotgun. She’s still in her shorts and a t-shirt, her arms and legs covered in goosebumps.

But I already have the answer to my question.

I zero in on her swollen eye and bleeding lip. My blood turns glacial.

The muscle in my jaw thrums, and my fists curl as I stalk toward her. She goes to step back, but as quick as a viper, one hand snaps out, grabs the back of her neck, and jerks her face into mine. She stumbles, catching herself on my chest.

Instantly, her hands curl into my shirt, but I can’t distinguish if she’s trying to push me away or hold on.

My chest pumps heavily, the fury wreaking havoc on my control.

Morirà lentamente. I will claim self-defense when the authorities get here. He put his hands on my girl, and I sure as fuck will no longer allow him the gift of breath.

I lean in close, her body trembling and eyes wide. They’re dilated, but it’s not with fear this time. There’s no mistaking the heat in them.

A small gasp slips free when my lips softly caress the side of her reddened eye.

“Enzo…” she whispers, her words trailing off as I softly press a kiss there.

“Don’t worry, baby,” I breathe, the ice in my body chilling my words. “I’m going to end him. And I will let you watch.”

She shudders, her hands tightening in my shirt. “I hope you do,” she rasps, sounding on the verge of coming without me even touching her. However, she gathers herself enough to ask, “Where is he?”

“He had a cellar hiding beneath the dining room table. He’s in there now,” I explain, remembering to wrap the blanket around her shoulders. She’s looking up at me with glimmering eyes, staring at me as if I was the one who saved her.

She’s so fucking beautiful.

“That’s… interesting. Wasn’t expecting that.”

“Worked out for us,” I mutter, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the pool.

“We can go back whenever you’re ready,” I tell her, tugging her until she sits beside me.

“Can we stay here tonight? I know it’s not very comfortable, but I just want a night outside of that lighthouse. It’s fucking suffocating.”

“Whatever you want, bella.”

Her face twists into a pained expression. “Tomorrow morning, we’ll start looking for the beacon again. We have to replace it. I don’t want to stay here for any longer than we have to.”

”I’ll get the answer out of him,” I swear, wrapping an arm around her and bringing her into my chest.

She snorts, assumingly laughing at the awkward angle her head is in. “You’ve never cuddled a day in your life, have you?”

“No,” I clip.

“I can tell. You’re tense.”

But I’m trying.

“What happened with him?”

This time, she’s the one who stiffens. Her discomfort is obvious and only serves to reignite the flames burning in my chest. They never died out, but fuck, if he tried anything with her…

“He asked me to stay. I said no. He threatened to blackmail me, and things went downhill from there.”

The muscle in my jaw nearly bursts from how hard I clench it.

“Did he touch you?” I bite out through gritted teeth.

“Aside from him backhanding me? It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.”

My fists curl, the image of Sylvester hitting her nearly catastrophic to my control. “The fuck does that even mean?”

“It means Sylvester has always taken it upon himself to lay hands on me, but that doesn’t mean I let him.”

My upper lip curls into a snarl, and likely sensing the black fury radiating from me, she looks up and rests her cheek on my shoulder. Her hot breath fans across my neck, and I fight the urge to pull her on top of me. I focus on the pool before giving in to my darker instincts.

“What are you thinking?” she asks in a whisper.

“He wants what I have.” When she stays silent, I drop my gaze to her. “You, bella. He doesn’t like the thought of me having you,” I say, my voice so deep, I no longer recognize it myself. “Imagine how he would feel if he was made to watch.”

“Enzo,” she breathes.

This time, I’m unable to look away. My body grows hotter, while my cock stiffens.

Forcing Sylvester to bear something he would deem unbearable… I can’t explain the excitement that has adrenaline injecting straight into my heart.

“But then I would really have to kill him,” I conclude.

Her brow pinches, and that pink mouth is parted with confusion. Despite her uncertainty, her eyes are blown wide, and little pants are slipping past her tongue.

“Why?” she murmurs. I reach up, thumbing those sweet lips until the sensitive flesh pinches into her teeth.

Who knew a single word could plague me so profoundly?

Mine.

“Because anyone who looks at what’s mine will never live to tell about it,” I rasp.

“Is that what I am?” she croaks. “Yours?”

“You always have been,” I murmur. “Now, it’s only a matter of if you stay.” She doesn’t say yes, and again, I’m overcome with the need to keep her anyway.

Her tongue darts out, licking the tip of my thumb. All my focus zeroes in on what she’s doing, my cock hardening impossibly further.

“Tu sei mia,” I growl, hunger clawing at my insides as she draws my thumb between her teeth and clamps down. I hardly feel the pain. I can only feel something dark and primal begging to be unleashed.

“What else?” she encourages. “Tell me everything you could never say.”

I know what she’s asking. Confess to her in a language she doesn’t understand. I’m not sure if it’s for my benefit or hers. Does she think it’s the only way I can profess my feelings, or is it because it’s the only way she’ll listen without running?

“È impossibile odiarti quando mi fai sentire così vivo,” I start, slipping two fingers past her lips and hooking them over her teeth, bringing her closer.

“Ed è esattamente per questo che voglio odiarti. Prima di incontrare te ero un sonnambulo. Cazzo, non ero pronto a svegliarmi.”

She stares at me as if she understands. Even when I’m speaking another language, she still hears me.

“Ho sbagliato a dirti che eri debole. Sei così incredibilmente coraggiosa, vorrei che lo vedessi anche tu.”

Releasing her jaw, I slide my hand beneath her t-shirt, dragging my wet fingers against her soft stomach, eliciting a shiver for an entirely different reason. The fabric lifts as I travel up between her breasts. Growing impatient, she sits up enough to pull the shirt over her head, tossing it to the side and leaning back into me. Next, she removes her jean shorts.

Turning to face me, she crawls on my lap, resting her hands on my shoulders while the blanket falls away.

“Don’t stop,” she pleads.

“Ti penso ogni ora, ogni minuto, ogni dannato secondo. Non so che fare.”

I release the knots around her neck and waist, biting my lip when the material falls away and reveals her pert breasts. I can’t resist leaning in and placing a gentle kiss on her rose-pink nipple. She gasps, prompting me to lick it, and I groan from how addicting she tastes.

“L’oceano era l’unico posto in cui mi sentivo a casa,” I continue, moving my hands to the knots on either side of her hips. I pluck those, too, raw desire consuming every one of my brain cells when her bottoms drop. I can smell her arousal, and I’m struggling to concentrate on what I’m saying.

“Era l’unica cosa che mi eccitava e dava pace. Hai rovinato anche questo. Sentirti su di me è meglio di immergersi nell’oceano. Neanche con questa rivelazione so che fare.”

Leaning forward, I draw her nipple into my mouth, sucking on it harshly and earning a low, husky moan. I wrap one arm around her, keeping her immobilized, while my other hand teases her entrance, spreading her arousal up to her clit and circling lightly.

“One day,” she pants. “I’m going to learn Italian, and I’ll know exactly what you said.”

I can’t explain the visceral emotion that arises in my chest at the thought of her learning my language—immersing herself in my culture. There’s no controlling the flashes of Sawyer walking down Mercato Campo de’ Fiori in Rome, a look of wonder on her face while she visits the bancarelle lining the square, smiling at the sellers as they call out to her, attempting to charm her into coming to their stands. She’d marvel over the fruits and vegetables, and gravitate toward the strong aroma of fresh flowers, sticking her button nose in each one. I’d tuck a blue hibiscus into her hair, the color rivaling her eyes.

Un giorno.

She said she’d let me keep her safe, but I don’t know what that means for us. I don’t know if she’ll stay. I’m not sure there will be a one day, but I keep that to myself. I have no interest in hurting my own feelings.

In place of an answer, I sink my middle finger in her wet pussy, my own groan masking her cry.

“Cazzo, quanto sei bagnata,” I murmur.

“Enzo,” she moans, rolling her hips into my hand. I add another finger, curling them as I stretch her, replaceing that sweet spot and stroking it persistently.

Her cries pitch higher while I use my thumb to rub her clit.

“Please, I need more,” she begs, tearing at my shirt. I’m forced to pull away from her to remove it, but the cold air feels good against my heated skin.

She works on my shorts next, and after some maneuvering, she slides them down my legs and mounts me once more.

Just as she prepares to sink down onto my cock, I stop her.

“No need to rush, bella,” I tell her, and my lips involuntarily pull into a grin when she mewls in outrage.

“You’re going to torture me, aren’t you?” she pants. “You’re supposed to be begging for my forgiveness.”

“Can’t we beg together, baby?” I rasp darkly.

Her mouth falls open, but I’m standing, lifting her in my arms as I do. She inhales sharply, quickly grabbing onto my neck. As if I’d ever let her fall. Not unless it’s for me.

I carry her over to the pool, and with each step, she grows stiffer.

“Enzo,” she warns, squirming in my hold and rubbing that sweet, little cunt against my cock. Though I don’t think she intended to, I growl anyway, grinding against her. “Enzo,” she repeats, hysteria in her tone. “Don’t do this to me again. I thought you wanted me to forgive you.”

“Shhh, I’m not going to hurt you, amore mio. I’m going to replace that memory with something good,” I assure her, dropping to my knees and settling her at the edge of the pool.

“You wanted me to apologize for what I did to you on the boat, and I said I wouldn’t until I was sorry.” I brush my lips across her jawline, her body trembling deliciously.

“I’m ready to repent, baby. You tell me to stop, I stop.”

She’s staring at me with wide, panicked eyes. If Sawyer and I do have a one day, then I will make sure she never looks at me like this again. I can’t take back what I did, but I will replace it with something good.

“What are you going to do?”

“Adrenaline can be like an aphrodisiac,” I explain. “The fear, the possibility of death, makes you feel alive. That’s part of the reason why I do what I do.”

“Swimming with sharks turns you on?” she questions with doubt, though she’s entirely distracted. I twist her rigid body around before she can spot the grin on my face. When she’s facing the water, I press my chest to her back, flattening my palm against her stomach and leaning down to whisper in her ear.

“Considering my job isn’t remotely sexual, I don’t get aroused, no,” I say with amusement. “But it does make me feel alive. And this will, too, if you let me show you.”

If I had X-ray vision, I’d see two halves of her brain at war with each other. She’s scared, but she’s also intrigued.

“Will I get aroused?” she asks quietly.

“Si,” I answer. “You will come harder than you ever have before.”

She chews on her lip, still contemplating. “That’s a big promise to make.”

“Then you’d better let me keep it.”

After a moment of consideration, her chin dips in the tiniest of increments, and that primal, animalistic part of me breaks free.

“Bend over,” I order, pushing her upper back down until her nose is within an inch from the water and her round ass is high in the air.

“Bellissima,” I praise, brushing my hand across her backside and squeezing firmly.

She’s gripping onto the edge of the pool so tightly, her knuckles are bleached white. But I don’t give her reassurances. While I want her to feel safe, I also want her to be scared, too.

She should be scared.

I lean down, replacing my hand with my mouth and trailing wet kisses down to her dripping pussy. The closer I get, the louder her panting grows.

“Fuck, you smell so good,” I groan before diving my tongue inside her tight hole. Sawyer moans loudly, the sound echoing throughout the cave as I begin to eat her cunt with vigor.

“Enzo,” she cries, bucking her hips into me. I slide my tongue down to her clit, circling it persistently until her legs are shaking.

“Oh, don’t stop!” She widens her stance and arches her back further to give me a better angle.

She’d have to throw herself in the pool to get me away from her. I imagine this hunger I feel for her is no less savage than a starving shark amongst its prey.

Quickly, I turn away from her and lay on my back, positioning my head between her thighs. Then, I lower her hips until she’s sitting on my face. Her spine straightens, now riding my mouth with just as much ferocity while I lap up every drop she has to offer.

Her hands cup her breasts, tweaking her hardened nipples while her head kicks back, her cries bleeding into screams. It’s the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. Enough to bring me to the edge myself. I grab my cock, squeezing tightly until the pain pushes aside the need.

“Oh my God, Enzo, I’m going to come,” she moans. I feel her thighs clenching around my head, and just as she begins to let go, I push her up.

Her head snaps down in shock, a ferocious look on her face. An angry goddess here to take what’s rightfully hers, with fire in her eyes, blonde curls surrounding her face like a lion’s mane, and a snarl curling her lips.

Christ. She’s magnificent and has me on the precipice of exploding like a fucking pubescent little boy.

Before she can curse at me, I’m plunging two fingers inside her and curling them deeply. Her mouth drops, those flames brightening into twin suns as she begins to unravel.

“Now’s your time for revenge, bella ladra. I’ve drowned you once. It’s your turn to drown me.”

Every exhale is a breathless moan, and she pants like she can’t get in enough air while I lap at her clit, never removing my eyes from her. I’m putting firm pressure on her G-spot, feeling her arousal beginning to flood past my hand.

“En—oh my—wait,” she gasps, her words senseless and garbled. So overcome with pleasure, her hand slaps the top of my head, and I can’t tell if I want to laugh or bite her clit.

But then her cunt is tightening around my fingers, and I have to pinch my eyes shut, forcing out thoughts of what it would feel like if she were clenched around my cock instead.

She goes silent for two heartbeats and then erupts. A loud scream pierces the air, and her entire body begins to seize. The moment I retract my fingers, her release is pouring onto me. Quickly, I hook both arms around each thigh and force her back down on my face, opening my mouth wide and drinking from her like a man who’s been lost at sea for months.

My name is an echo as she thrashes above me while filling my mouth with her cum, trails of it leaking past my lips.

I’m groaning into her, and I think she’s hitting me again, but I’m so far gone in my bliss, so intoxicated by her taste that I hardly notice anything outside of her release sliding down my throat.

It feels like her orgasm drags out longer than normal, and by the time she slumps, I’m vibrating with the need to fuck her.

“Stop, oh my God, I can’t take any more!” she begs, attempting to pull away.

I let her go, but only long enough for me to slide out from beneath her and move her back into the previous position. Face above the water and ass in the air.

“Wait, don’t put me under yet,” she breathes, her heavy exhales disturbing the still water. “Let me—I still can’t breathe.”

“Baby, you’ll never be able to breathe as long as I’m inside you,” I retort. I line up my cock with her entrance and slowly push inside her, no longer able to go another second without her wrapped around me.

“Oh, fuck,” she bites out, moving to sit up.

“Uh-uh, did I say you could move?” I snap, grabbing the nape of her neck and pushing her back down.

“Too much,” she chokes, voice strained as I sink myself deeper in her tight warmth.

“You can take it, bella. Let me see your cunt swallow my cock as good as you do with your throat.”

Her only response is another garbled moan. I bury myself to the hilt, and my eyes roll from the utter fucking bliss.

“Cazzo,” I rasp. “That’s such a good girl, baby.”

I retreat long and slow, dragging my glistening dick from her warmth, enraptured by how fucking soaked she’s making me. Then, I drive into her roughly, earning a sharp gasp, followed by my name. It almost sounds like an admonishment, and it brings out a savage grin to my face.

“You can take it,” I assure. “Can you feel how tightly your pussy clings to me? Like it never wants to let me go. How deep do you think you can take me before you’re begging for me to stop?”

“I—” she gasps, when I angle her ass higher, allowing me a better angle to hit her cervix.

“That—that’s my limit,” she squeaks.

“Then let me take you to a new limit.”

Before she can protest, I fist her curls and push her head underwater. She thrashes, and I tighten my core to balance myself, so I can reach beneath her and strum her clit.

She jerks against me, and I pull my hips back, only to slam into her again, forming a steady pace while she drowns. Bubbles disturb the surface, but her pussy is tightening around me almost painfully.

Pushing her to this dangerous limit is undeniably erotic. Feeling her fight beneath my hold, unable to stop me from draining the life from her, is addicting.

What she doesn’t realize is that I’ve always held her life in my hands, and she never knew that she was trusting me to guard it.

I pull her head up, and she instinctively inhales deeply—desperately.

“Brava ragazza. You’re doing so fucking good,” I praise, rolling my hips into her. “I’m so proud of you.”

She whimpers, mumbling incoherent words. Yet, her hips push back into me, seeking more from me.

Flirting with death is a fucking thrill.

“Deep breath, bella.”

She listens while I quicken my pace, making it difficult for her to get a good breath in without huffing out a moan.

“Wait—Enzo,” she screams, feeling the narrowing window.

I don’t let her finish. I’m forcing her head back down, and a flood of bubbles rises to the surface, presumably from her screaming underwater.

She’ll have less oxygen this time, but I want to fuck her while she feels like she’s dying.

I circle her clit faster, groaning when her cunt tightens again, her legs quivering as I pick up speed. My cock is thickening, and I’m so close to coming, but I refuse to end this too soon.

Just as I begin to lose myself in her sweet pussy, she begins to fight. She’s panicking, but I push it a little longer until she bucks wildly against me. I allow her to come up, another choked gasp of breath.

I don’t relent on my pace, her watery screams somewhere between jumbled protests and high-pitched mewls of encouragement.

“Do you forgive me, piccola?”

“I can’t… Enzo, I don’t—”

“Take a deep breath. This time, keep it in,” I order. “I’m going to keep you under longer, and I don’t care how much you fight me. Your pussy gets so tight when you’re on the brink of death.”

Her response is a sob, but she does as I say and inhales as deeply as she can.

“Relax, bella. I won’t let you drown. I want to show you how good it feels to live.”

She nods, and her trust only serves to strengthen my obsession with her. The moment her lips clamp shut, I put her back under. I lift one of my knees, planting my foot firmly on the ground for more stability. I’m fucking her hard enough that the sound of our skin slapping and the wet noises her pussy is making are louder than her splashing in the water.

Intense pleasure is building in the base of my spine, and her struggling to breathe is only enhancing it.

I focus on the water, making sure the bubbles are still consistent, but it seems as if she’s trying to keep herself from thrashing. Vibrations are racking every single bone in her body one moment, and the next, she goes completely still.

And then, she’s exploding. She’s tightening around me until my eyes threaten to cross, and I’m lost in the euphoria. I release her head, allowing her to come up, but I’m oblivious to her when she’s nearly convulsing around my cock.

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK, Sawyer,” I chant, crowding over her and sinking my teeth into her shoulder as my own orgasm tears through me. More words slip out, trading between Italian and English. I’ve no idea what I’m saying, solely that it’s the only prayer I’ve ever believed in.

My vision goes black, and never-ending groans ripple from my throat while I spill inside her, streams of cum filling her pussy until it’s pouring out of her.

“Oh my God, oh my God, Enzo,” she chokes, voice raspy and hoarse.

The sensation becomes too much, so I rip myself out of her, an animalistic feeling rising in my chest when my release streams down her leg.

Using two fingers, I gather it from her leg and push it back inside her cunt, biting my lip when she chokes on a gasp and turns to look back at me.

“This is mine,” I proclaim. Then, I repeat it in Italian. “Questa è mia.”

I withdraw my fingers and spread my cum up to her ass, circling the tight entrance before dipping my thumb inside. She sucks in sharply.

“Enzo,” she hisses.

I need to know that I’ve been in every part of her. On every part of her. I gather more of it from her dripping pussy, then trace my name into her skin with it.

“Now you can have my name,” I murmur. She peeks at me over her shoulder, her cheeks tinted red, eyes dilated, and her pink mouth parted.

I want to keep her. I will keep her.

As if hearing me and solidifying it, she licks the salty water off her lip before whispering, “I forgive you now.”

A wicked feeling is swirling in my chest. The same feeling I had when her hair was in my fist and my cock buried within her the first time I held her beneath the water.

“Yet, I will never stop asking for it,” I tell her. “I will never stop worshiping you.”

I cup her again, baring my teeth while the darkness thrashes against my flesh, threatening to tear right through.

“You will be mine until you draw your last breath, Sawyer. And it will be my hand holding you beneath the surface, introducing you to death.”

I dip my fingers into her pussy again, then retract them and hook the same two in her bottom teeth, jerking her face toward me. She squeals, stunned as I lean closer until my breath fans across the wet curls matted to her face.

“Ma solo quando sono pronto a venire con te. Annegheremo insieme, bella ladra.”