Enzo's POV
The sting of his entry made my whole body jolt forward, my chest pressed tight against the table as his thickness pushed deeper and deeper into me. My fingers clawed against the wood, searching for any sort of grip, but the smooth polished surface gave me none. Every nerve in my body lit up like fire and I couldn't help the broken sound that tore from my throat.
"Fuck, Alaric…" my voice was nothing but a hoarse whisper, trembling with the weight of pleasure and pain entwined.
He leaned over me, his chest flattening against my back, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. "That's it… take me, Enzo. Every damn inch." His breath was hot, ragged, the kind of hunger that made my spine shiver.
My body was stretched to its limits, but the fullness… the fullness had me melting, had me arching against him despite the ache. He didn't move at first, as if savoring the way I clenched around him, as if branding me from the inside. And then, slowly at first, he began to move.
