Accidentally Yours Chapter 32

**Enzo**

She took off barefoot, laughing like a maniacal little gremlin with zip-tied wrists.

Wild. Reckless. Beautiful.

Enzo didn’t move right away.

Didn’t need to.

He just watched.

Watched her bolt down the hall in nothing but those oversized pants hanging dangerously low on her hips—hips he’d had his hands on not even an hour ago. What she wore up top was basically a bra. Her scuffed knees told the story of her fight. That wild red hair whipped like a flag of defiance around her shoulders as she disappeared around the corner.

And something inside him—snapped.

***She’s made me a fucking animal.***

And he liked it.

No—he loved it.

Loved that she didn’t fear him.

Loved that she ran.

Loved that she made him chase.

She had war in her eyes. Fire in her blood.

Even with zip-tied wrists, she never backed down.

She didn’t play it safe.

Didn’t ask for permission.

Didn’t submit—

Not until she chose to.

And that?

That made her more dangerous than any man he’d ever stood across from.

More addictive than any drug he’d ever touched.

She didn’t make sense.

She didn’t need to.

She was his.

And he would spend the rest of his fucking life proving it.

Enzo gave her ten full seconds.

Just long enough for her to think she had a head start.

Long enough for the blood in his veins to turn molten.

Long enough for his cock to get hard again.

Then—

He started walking.

Slow.

Deliberate.

Predator through and through.

She wanted a game?

She was about to lose it.

Hard.

**Lola**

The elevator opened with a soft chime—civilized, polite.

Unlike everything else tonight.

Lola darted out onto the rooftop, still panting, heart slamming against her ribs. The air was warm, wind slicing through her hair, the glittering skyline of Vegas blazing behind her like fire and diamonds.

Her skin tingled from adrenaline and sweat. Her wrists burned. Her thighs ached from the fight.

But she was buzzing.

Alive.

Free.

She turned to look at the elevator—

The soft ding of another arrival.

And then—

Enzo stepped out.

Black shirt, bare feet, eyes like sin.

She backed up slowly, breathing shallow, hands still zip-tied in front of her.

“So,” she whispered, a wicked smile tugging at her lips. “you let me get all the way up here. Slipping, bound and you still couldn't catch me?”

His voice was low. Lethal.

“Didn’t want to catch you yet.”

A pause as his eyes drag over her.

***Oh. I know I should be Mt. Tambora mad right now but damn this is so fucking hot.***

Her knees wobbled.

“Are you gonna kill me?”

His jaw ticked. “Worse.”

She grinned.

Laughing with one eyebrow raised, “You threatening me, Don?”

“No, baby. I’m waiting for you to keep running.”

***Oh, he’s serious. Like, deliciously serious. I should probably fear for my life. But mostly… I want to climb him like a jungle gym.***

A beat. Her smile turns sharper. And then—

“Catch me in the deep end.”

She jumps. A splash. Enzo’s shirt is off in seconds, and then he’s airborne, chasing her into the water.

She hit the water with a splash, the cold shock snapping against her skin like a dare accepted.

By the time Enzo dove in after her, she was already kicking toward the deep end, laughing, heart pounding, adrenaline humming through her bones.

Something tugged around her hips—then with a finger flick they loosened.

Her pants drifted down her legs and sank like a corpse in a mob movie.

Lola surfaced, breathless and grinning, now wearing nothing but her snug tube top and a soaked black thong.

Enzo broke through the surface a few feet away—his hair slicked back, water rolling down his jaw, eyes locked on her like she was both target and reward.

Predator. Gorgeous. Wet.

“You are in so much fucking trouble,” he growled.

Lola treaded water, raising an eyebrow. “You always this pissed when a girl ditches her pants in your pool?”

He started toward her, slow and steady. “This isn’t about the pants, baby.”

His voice was low, rough. “It’s about the mustache.”

She burst out laughing. “You *dared* me to!”

“I made a *joke.*”

“And I committed to the bit.”

“You drew a full villain ‘stache and monocle while I was sleeping.”

She hopped backwards just out of reach, like she was born to taunt.

“I don’t recall any fine print on that dare, Don.”

“You need to be punished.”

***Oh fuck yes.***

***Oh no.***

***Oh fuck yes.***

***I know I should be Mt. Tambora mad right now, but goddamn this is so fucking hot.***

***Enzo***

“I’m starting to think you like chasing me,” she said, breath catching as he cornered her near the wall.

He closed in, water between them churning from movement and tension.

“You have no idea how much I like it.”

***But God, I wish she did.***

***Wish she knew the kind of thoughts I’ve had since the second I laid eyes on her.***

***Wish she knew how fucking feral it makes me feel watching her run, laugh, fight back…***

***How bad I'm going to ruin her for every man who thinks they can keep up.***

Then, softly—almost sweet:

“But you’re gonna learn.”

She stilled, eyes narrowing as her back hit the far wall of the pool. Trapped.

Except she didn’t look scared. She looked delighted. Challenged.

***Of course she did. My little* mayhem magnet *doesn’t fear the devil—she invites him in and teaches him how to misbehave.***

He reached out, one hand landing just beside her head, the other settling on her waist underwater. Her breath hitched.

“You think you’re safe just because we’re in water?”

His voice dropped to a dark hum.

“You’re not. You never are. Not with me.”

She bit her lip—and smirked.

“I was counting on that.”

**Lola**

His body caged hers against the edge of the pool, the heat of him rolling off in waves

despite the water clinging to his skin. She was trapped—barely afloat—her arms zip-tied tight in front of her, so she looped them around his neck like the world’s worst flotation device.

Which, to be fair, he kind of was.

“You shouldn’t be allowed to look at me like that,” she whispered, breathless. Her thighs squeezed instinctively around his hips just to keep from sinking.

***Don’t look down. Don’t look hungry. Don’t look like prey.***

Enzo’s eyes darkened. “Then stop looking so fucking good when you’re asking for it.”

***Oh.***

***Well, okay then.***

His mouth crashed against hers, brutal and hot, all tongue and teeth and claiming. Water lapped around them, but it felt like drowning in fire. Her back hit the concrete wall as he pressed in—shoulders like anchors, thighs like prison bars. She was caged. Contained.

***This is a bad idea. A reckless, idiotic, end-of-the-world kind of idea.***

***So why the fuck does it feel like the only thing that’s ever made sense?***

His.

And god, she wanted to be.

“Let me hear you,” he growled into her mouth, biting her bottom lip before dragging it out with a sinful slowness that made her toes curl. “Let every one of those boys inside know who you belong to.”

***Claim me, then. Fucking claim me.***

“I’ll scream your name so loud your enemies will come running,” she panted, rolling her hips against the hard length pressed between them. “But I’m still not apologizing for the mustache.”

His grin was all teeth. Wicked. Unforgiving.

“You’re right,” he said, dipping just enough to press the head of his cock right between her folds. “You’re gonna earn that apology.”

***Holy shit, I am so screwed.***

He thrust upward in one slow, devastating motion—and Lola shattered.

Her cry echoed off the tile walls, shameless and sweet and fucking feral.

***No one's ever touched me like this. No one's ever had the nerve.***

***God, I don't want it to stop.***

Her hands, bound in front of her, gripped the back of his neck like a lifeline. Water splashed around them. Her thighs locked tighter. He slammed in again, harder this time, and she felt herself rise off the ledge only to be slammed right back down onto him.

“I should hate you,” she gasped.

***I should.***

***But I don’t. And that might be the most dangerous part.***

“You do,” he rasped. “That’s why you feel so good around me.”

He bit down on her shoulder, just shy of breaking skin. Her nails dug into his neck. The water did nothing to cool them. He pounded into her like punishment, one arm locked around her lower back, the other braced beside her head. She couldn’t get away. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t do anything but let him take.

***Fuck, fuck, fuck—***

***This isn’t soft. This isn’t safe. This is fury and hunger and need, and I want every second of it.***

And he did.

She came so hard her vision whited out—hips bucking, breath caught, head falling back as her scream bounced off the ceiling and back down into her own ears.

He didn’t stop.

“Take it,” he growled. “You wanted punishment, baby, and I don’t fucking stop halfway.”

She whimpered into his mouth, too gone to even form words anymore. He angled her hips higher, started rubbing her clit as if there were a genie inside and he needed to make wishes—water sloshing, body trembling, legs useless—

***He’s going to ruin me.***

***He already has.***

—and fucked her until she was a wrecked, sobbing mess in his arms.

When he finally followed her over the edge, it was with a snarl and a growl of her name that sounded more like a vow.