Maxine Martin’s POV
"Ah!" Enzo grimaced, holding my hand to stop me from touching his face again. His other hand tightened its grip on my waist, accompanied by a gentle caress.
"Wait, babe," I said. "Don't move around." We were on the couch, sitting so close to each other. I couldn't properly treat his wounds because he kept trying to press himself closer to me.
I couldn't help but laugh at Enzo's pained expression as I dabbed his wounds with a cotton ball soaked in alcohol. I didn't think it was that painful anymore. Just a little sting and he was already acting like it was painful, clearly trying to get my attention... whereas earlier, he was tirelessly active in bed without a single complaint about his wounds. Even when he was getting tired. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying himself.
