66. Lorenzo
“E-Enzo,” she whispered, her voice fragile. Yet, somehow, that voice was commanding, pulling my attention back to her. She stood before me, entirely bare, as exposed as I was.
I was unable to take my eyes off of her and I was mesmerized. I didn't know what it was about this woman that kept me glued and no matter how much I tried to run or how far I ran, I still couldnt get away.
The name she called me—one I hadn’t heard in years—reverberated in my chest raising emotions I thought I had already buried. My throat tightened as I stared at her. At those lips that had called me Enzo.
Her pale, flawless skin glowed under the dim light, casting soft shadows over her curves. My gaze lingered, drinking in every inch of her—the gentle swell of her breasts, tipped with dusky red n***
