Does It Hurt?: An Enemies to Lovers Romance

“Why do people say the universe makes them feel small but never say that about waterfalls?”

“Probably because they feel waterfalls can be conquered. But no one will ever conquer the universe.”

I jut out my bottom lip, considering his response. “The ocean hasn’t been conquered. People don’t say that about them, either.”

He scoffs. “Those people have never been in the middle of the ocean then.”

Fishing out his wallet, Enzo tosses it on the ground before reaching behind his head, grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling it off. My mouth dries as he drops the material to the wet rock, wondering how he can make it so a stone retains moisture better than me.

He’s only wearing black swim shorts, leaving far too many inches of skin exposed. Every muscle that shouldn’t be physically possible to exist… well, exists. My knees are seconds away from crashing to the rock.

“Please put your shirt back on,” I beg.

He brushes past me without listening to my very reasonable request and dives headfirst into the massive diving hole before us. His skin barely touched mine, yet it still feels like electricity is dancing across my body.

If I jump in now, I’ll die via electrocution.

“You could’ve hit your head!” I shout above the thundering rush of water as soon as his head pops up from the aqua surface. He ignores me and swims toward the waterfall, his tanned back glistening beneath the sunlight.

Really, I’m not even sure why he invited me. 

But I’m glad for it, because now that his muscles are no longer visible, I can properly appreciate the view. 

It’s breathtaking. A small alcove surrounded by cliffs and bright green plant life that bleed into the sparkling blue depths. Straight ahead is a massive waterfall, the force of it vibrating my bones. Vines crawl up hundreds of feet of rock, and I’m deeply considering grabbing onto one and testing my Tarzan skills. I’ve always wanted to swing from a vine and jump into water. Be one with nature and shit.

Enzo turns to look at me, and my heart stops for a very brief moment. 

“You coming in?”

“Only if you promise not to touch me,” I call back.

“I promise not to do anything you don’t beg me for.”

Then, he turns around and dips under the water, disappearing under the falls. 

I groan aloud, kicking my head back. I’m equal parts relieved and pissed that he couldn’t just make the promise. He’s sending me some seriously mixed signals. 

Sighing in resignation, I slide my tank top over my head, unbutton my jean shorts, and let them drop. Thankfully, I’ve learned not to go anywhere without wearing my bathing suit. 

I slide my fingers over the fresh tattoo on my thigh. It’s only been a couple of days, and I’m risking infection by getting in the water. But not getting in it and never finding out what will happen behind the waterfall feels worse.

I think the only wise decision I’ll make today is not swinging from a vine. I won’t show up the king of the jungle today, although I wish Enzo didn’t disappear so I can ask him if it’s safe to cannonball into the spring. He may have dived, but I also get the feeling he could dive in four feet of water and not even scratch his nose. 

Deciding to go for it, I do a running jump, curl into a ball, and slam into the water like a true imbecile. Most girls would probably sashay into the water like they’re in a photo shoot, but my life is too uncertain not to do the things I truly want to do.

Like, seduce the hottest man I’ve ever seen behind a waterfall. I groan again, this time at myself. It took two seconds to talk myself into it, though I already knew I wasn’t going to say no.

I like to lie to myself.

I come up for air long enough to breathe in one big gulp and then dive back under, cutting beneath the waterfall.

It’s so warm in here; it feels like being wrapped in a heated blanket on a cold day. So comforting that it gives you goosebumps. 

When I re-emerge, Enzo is sitting on the rock floor at the edge of the pool, one knee kicked up and supporting his arm, and the other still dipped in the water while he waits for me. His body glistens, and one droplet in particular snags my attention, trailing down his defined stomach and toward the waistband of his shorts. 

Swallowing, I meet his stare, staying in the water where it’s safe. I can’t decipher any of the emotions in his eyes. He has them on lockdown, and not knowing how he’s feeling or what he’s thinking—it’s disconcerting.

“Are you going to murder me now?” I ask, my voice scarcely above the thunderous sound from the falls. It would be incredibly easy for my screams to be washed away.

“Would anyone be looking for you?” he retorts.

I smile sardonically. “Yes. I have people looking for me right now.” He’ll never understand the truth of that statement. Not until it’s too late, at least.

“This waterfall isn’t well known,” he responds, dragging his gaze down the column of my neck before returning to my eyes. “It’d take a while to find you.”

Despite the fact that I’m sweating from the temperature, his answer—no, his voice—sends shivers down my spine.

I shrug. “I never want to be found.”

“Then I suppose I have you right where I want you,” he drawls lazily.

I’m in trouble, but it’s the type of danger that makes you smile uncontrollably as you ride the line between life and death. The kind of danger that gives you a thrill, makes you feel alive, and then leaves you bereft and empty when it’s over.

“Want to know what I thought of you when we were in the bar?” I quiz.

“That I could get you pregnant with one look,” he reiterates dryly. Liquid heat pools low in my stomach from his words. I don’t even want kids, so it’s shameful to admit that I’m incredibly turned on.

It’s like your celebrity crush talking about knocking you up. Doesn’t matter if you want kids or not, your panties immediately melt at the thought.

I shake my head, breathing in deep, hoping I inhale oxygen that will cleanse the delirium from my mind.

“That you could ruin me with just the tip,” I admit, grinning when he looks a little taken aback.

“What makes you think I’d fuck you?” 

Ouch. 

I shrug, ignoring the embarrassment beginning to creep up my cheeks.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t?”

He stares at me for a moment, his eyes assessing. It feels like he has a lockpick and is poking through my brain, trying to unravel all my secrets.

But I’ll never tell.

Finally, he slowly shakes his head, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. I zero in on the act, my mouth both parting and salivating. 

He drops his knee, both legs now submerged in the water, and leans forward. I bristle under the intensity of his stare, unsure if his eyes are blazing because he’s attracted to me, too, or if he’s tired of my questions.

“You’re going to ruin me, too. But unfortunately for you, that’s where I feel most at home.”

I gather enough courage to tread closer to him, but not close enough for him to grab for me. I’m not that brave yet.

I’ve never been brave at all.

“What does that mean?” I ask, getting distracted by another droplet trailing down his chest.

“It means that if anything happens, tonight is it. One night.”

I look up at him through my lashes, and I feel a bead of water drip from my eyebrow and trail down my cheek. It feels symbolic.

“Deal,” I say, my voice hoarse with desire. “Then we never see each other again.”

Before he can answer, I dip below the surface and swim until I’m right at his feet. I pop up, swiping my hands back through my blonde strands, and nearly choke from the fire in his hazel eyes.

Heart pounding, I brace my hands on each of his knees and lift myself up until we’re eye to eye. He tenses beneath me but doesn’t move away. Up close, I can see just how extraordinary his eyes are. Swirls of golden brown and green mix together, rimmed by a dark ring. And on his right eye is that dark spot, like someone accidentally dropped a bead of ink.

“But I need to make sure of one thing first,” I tell him, darting my tongue out to wet my lips. His eyes drift down, watching my tongue disappear before traveling farther south, lingering on my breasts that are pushed together and the water trailing over my curves. Slowly, he lifts his stare, and by the time our eyes reconnect, I’m nearly panting. Now, I can see raw emotion reflected back at me. Near-feral desire, and it’s fucking invigorating.

His fists clench and my breathing stutters as I watch a man possessed with need hold himself perfectly still, not even a breath expanding his chest.

Forging on, I whisper, “I’m tired of men who don’t know what they’re doing. So, kiss me first. If you don’t know how to fuck me with your mouth, then you won’t know how to use your dick, either.”

He chuckles, the sound low and deep. Humorless, like I’ve just told him that I’m not scared of him while he’s holding a knife to my jugular.

Even though his smirk is cruel, it does things to my insides anyway. Twists them up like a rag drenched in gasoline before lighting a match to it. I just know I’ll never be the same again after tonight.

A dimple appears in his right cheek as those white teeth sink into his bottom lip, as if he’s holding in cynical laughter. 

“You want me to fuck you with my mouth? I can do that, baby. But it will be your pussy I’m fucking.”

He lifts a hand, trailing his fingers up my cheek and into my hair. I tremble beneath his fiery touch, my bones turning to jelly just from a single brush of his skin.

His grip turns rough, jerking me forward and wringing a gasp from my throat, nearly causing my hands to slip.

“But I promised I wouldn’t do anything you didn’t beg me for,” he reminds me, a vicious challenge in his tone.

I’ve never begged for dick in my life. Never had to, when men are so fucking simple. Though, I guess that’s actually not true. There were a few occasions when they accidentally stumbled upon my G-spot, and I pleaded with them to stay right there.

They never did.

“Please,” I croak.

He only shakes his head, and I try not to feel rejected. Cocking my head at him, I scan my eyes down his physique, questioning if he’s even worth begging for.

Noting the look on my face, he reaches between my thighs and presses firmly down on my clit, causing me to jolt beneath his touch.

“I’m not the type of man you want to doubt,” he says, his voice deepening.

He can locate the clit. Good enough for me.

Biting my lip, I lean forward until my lips brush against his jaw, delighting in the way he stills.

“Please, Enzo. I need you,” I whisper, ensuring he can hear every note of desperation.

A deep growl rumbles in the base of his throat as I drift my mouth toward his, coming so close before he pulls back.

Denying me his lips, he grabs my waist and lifts me up, relieving my trembling arms from supporting my weight. Spinning me around, he sets me down on the slick rock and slips back into the water. 

Our positions now reversed, he weaves his arms under my knees, grabs my hips, and roughly tugs me toward him. The unforgiving surface grates against my flesh, but it only serves to sharpen the desire cutting through my nerve endings.

Steam billows around us from the hot springs and the rushing waterfall fifteen feet away. It coats my skin, leaving me flushed and panting. Or maybe it’s the way Enzo leans forward, staring up at me through heavily arched brows and thick lashes, that is setting me aflame.

His finger teases the edge of my bathing suit at the apex of my thighs, creating a full-body shiver strong enough to make my teeth chatter. Then, his gaze drops as he slowly slides my bottoms to the side, baring me completely.

He hisses between his teeth, and all I can do is thank God that I shaved today.

“So fucking pretty,” he murmurs before placing a slow, soft kiss directly on my clit, glancing up at me as he does. I inhale sharply, disappointed when he retreats.

“Is that the type of kiss you wanted?” he taunts, sparing me another glance before his eyes gravitate back down like he can’t stand to look away.

“No,” I whimper. “You can do better than that.”

“Can I?” he muses. “How would I do that? Use my tongue?” Right as the last word leaves said tongue, it darts out, lashing at my clit before disappearing between his teeth.

I groan, my hips involuntarily rolling toward his mouth, desperately seeking what he’s so cruelly depriving me of.

“Yes, like that,” I mewl, my legs beginning to tremble. Arousal is gathering low in my stomach, and my pussy throbs from how potent it is.

“Like that,” he echoes, licking my clit again. Though this time is slower, causing me to shudder from how fucking good it feels. 

“Don’t stop,” I gasp, my head falling back and my legs widening. Another moan bounces off the stone walls when he heeds my request, sensually curling his tongue as he would if it were in my mouth waging war against my own.

I find myself desperate to experience that, too, because he can kiss. And without a shadow of a doubt, I know this man can fuck just as well.

He groans against me. “You taste better than the sweetest wine, and I could fucking drink you forever.”

My heart stutters, and my hips swivel, grinding against his mouth as he tastes me, drinking from me like a sorrowful man desperate to escape through a bottle. The stubble on his jaw only serves to heighten the pleasure, making me grind harder against him.

He sucks on my clit, earning a sharp moan followed by his name, and it’s like watching a flower blossom with the way he comes alive.

The veins threading throughout his arms swell, and I can see the tension gather in his shoulders as he brings me closer, the entirety of his mouth covering me like he can’t get enough—eat enough—of me.

“Open wider, bella, I need more of you.”

I do as he says, hiking my knees as far up as I can. His tongue explores every inch of me, plunging inside my pussy and gathering my arousal on the tip before dipping even lower and laving at my tight entrance. Something I’d normally shy away from, but with Enzo, my body only seems to beg for more.

It’s when his mouth closes over my clit again, sucking in deeply while lashing it with ferocity, that my knees snap inward, nearly crushing his skull between my thighs. My eyes roll to the back of my head, and my surroundings dissipate, all of my senses honing in on the sensations radiating from beneath his persistent mouth.

My legs squeeze tighter, but I don’t relent—can’t relent—too lost in the never-ending pleasure to give a fuck. Breathless screams are pouring from my throat, and my nails score across his scalp. The orgasm building low in my stomach is reaching a sharpened peak, and my desperation to reach it is ruthless.

He pries my thighs apart, holding one down with his arm while his other hand swipes up my slit, the only warning he grants me before two of his fingers sink inside me, drawing out a high-pitched moan while he curls them up and fucks me with them.

It feels like I’m on the verge of losing control of my bladder, yet it mingles with the acute need to come. Then, he hits a spot that makes me go blind, and oh my God, he doesn’t stop or move even a centimeter.

I lose all function.

I can only choke on the euphoria, all sounds ceasing while I fight for oxygen. My mouth opens on a silent scream, incapable of giving anything else when my body has lost control.

My eyes roll, and I feel something just… snap. Every one of my vital organs has been overpowered by the orgasm crashing through me, and it feels like I’m quite literally exploding. It isn’t until I’m on the verge of blacking out that my lungs finally open, allowing me to let out a sharp cry.

“Fuck,” he curses against me, continuing his assault with his fingers. Vaguely, I glimpse a pool of liquid in his hand, but I’m too delirious to care as long as he keeps doing… oh God, that.

“Oh my God, Enzo,” I sob, my body convulsing while his is tense, battling to keep me still. His fingers withdraw, replaced by his tongue, and he greedily drinks from me.

Just when it becomes too much, he retreats, and I feel my soul slump inside me, spent from the most world-bending orgasm I’ve ever experienced.

“That,” I gasp, out of breath, “was not normal.”

My legs are shaking, and aftershocks ravage my being as he lifts himself out of the water and crawls over me.

It takes effort to get my bleary eyes to focus, and when they do, I immediately flush from the sight. His face is… soaked, and his eyes are blazing hot.

“Did I…?” I trail off, too embarrassed to even say it aloud. I’ve never squirted before, and the experience was as otherworldly as others have claimed.

“You did,” he confirms, his voice deepening with unrestrained desire. “And now I want to see you come like that all over my cock.” He leans down, sending chills skating across my flesh as he whispers, “I won’t stop until you do.”

Oh, fuck. I’m dead, aren’t I? Suffered a heart attack of some sort. Surely, a man determined to make a girl come more than once doesn’t actually exist, right?

He tugs at the strings around my neck, the buttery-yellow bathing suit top slipping from my breasts as the knot releases.

A deep rumble builds in his chest as his hands sweep up and cup them in his large palms, swiping his thumbs across my pebbled nipples and wringing a whimper from my throat.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs.

I bite my lip, peeking up at him through my lashes. He looks at me as if I’m a masterpiece, a shrine to worship, and I can’t deny how invigorating that feels.

I wet my lips and then croak out a weak, “Thank you. I grew them myself.”

He pays me no mind, instead swooping down and capturing a nipple between his teeth. Inhaling sharply, I arch into his hot mouth, eyes rolling in sync with his tongue. 

He groans deeply before switching to the other. His grip turns punishing, and I revel in the feel of his hands marking me. I want to be covered in bruises by morning. It’ll be the last time he’ll ever touch me, and I want something good to remember him by before I ruin it.

He pulls away with a plop and then curses. “Goddamn it.”

“What, what’s wrong?” I ask, looking around to find the source of the problem. Did he lose his boner? Christ, that’d be my luck. Find a guy that can fuck like a god, but only when he can get it up.

“No condom,” he chokes. He starts to pull away, but I stop him.

“Uhm, not to be weird because we’re strangers, but I’m clean and on birth control.”

His brow pinches, a frown pulling down his lips. 

“I don’t fuck without condoms.”

“Then why did you bring me here? Why not, like, your house or a hotel?”

 ”Because you looked like you needed an escape. I wasn’t planning on fucking you.”

“Oh,” I say, clearing my throat awkwardly. “Well… uh, you provided an escape all right.”

There’s a hint of his dimples, and once again, I’m overcome with the need to bring them out.

Slowly, his eyes track down my curves, and for the first time, I feel a sense of insecurity. Inadequacy. Like he can see the sins that cover my body like oil.

“Maybe just this once,” he murmurs, seemingly to himself. I roll my lips together, impatiently waiting for him to decide. When his hazel eyes lift, it nearly stops my heart in my chest. He’s just so goddamn… intense.

“You’re going to ruin me,” he reiterates.

I will.

“I won’t.” 

At least not like he thinks.

“You’re lying.”

I am.

“You won’t be the only one that will be ruined, remember?” I settle on, deciding to go with the truth.

I absolutely will destroy him, and later, I’ll hate myself for it more than I already do.