Accidentally Yours (Merffy Kizzmet) novel Chapter 214

Accidentally Yours

Chapter 214

Not tomorrow. Not someday. Now.

But first, he had to catch his demon.

“Five seconds, gattina|kitten],” he called, voice dark silk. “Then I hunt.”

Her laugh rang out like a dare. “You’ll have to earn it, Marchesi!”

Enzo grinned, slow and wolfish. “Challenge accepted.”

She’d vanished somewhere between the kitchen and the west hall. A door creaked somewhere above him; air shifted. He moved slow, every step measured, grin carved in shadow.

“Come out, gattina,” he called, voice low enough to vibrate against the walls. “You know I always find you.”

Silence. Then the faintest sound, bare feet against metal. He looked up just in time to see her drop from the railing like a damn assassin.

She hit him square in the chest. The impact knocked them both to the mat of the hallway rug; his back hit first, her laugh exploding right above him wild, feral, delighted.

“Gotcha!”

He reached for her. She rolled, slippery and fast, laughter ricocheting off the walls. “Not even close, amore!”

“Lola-”

“Too slow!”

She darted around the corner, braid snapping like a whip behind her. Enzo sat up, half laughing, half growling. “You’re gonna regret that, diavoletta.”

“Promises, promises!” came her sing–song reply, somewhere near the living room.

He got up, heart pounding for all the wrong reasons. This was new; the chase, the chaos, the sheer audacity of her turning their home into a battleground. He’d expected an argument, maybe a scolding. Not this. Not her laughter pulling him through the penthouse like a compass needle.

And damn if he didn’t love her more for it.

He kicked off his socks and shoes, moving quieter now, hunting her by sound the muffled giggle, the creak of a vent, the rustle of curtains.

“Lola,” he warned, voice rough silk, “if I have to drag you out-”

A whisper behind him: “You’ll what?”

He spun. Empty hall. Then hands, hers, ghosted across his back, gone before he could catch her.

“Oh, I’m gonna enjoy catching you,” he muttered, already smiling.

He was halfway through the hall when the sound came; bare feet against marble, quick and light. He turned just in time to see her dart past the hall’s edge, hair flying, laughter echoing like a promise.

Lola’s breath hitched. “You wouldn’t.”

He looped the belt around her wrists, leather whispering against skin, and pulled it snug, not cruel, just enough to make her gasp. “You keep forgetting who you’re playing with.”

Her eyes went molten. “Oh, I remember,” she said, voice low, teasing. “I just like making you prove it.”

He laughed under his breath, the sound dark, amused, aroused. “You enjoy poking the wolf, huh?”

“I enjoy surviving it.”

His mouth hovered over hers, barely a breath apart. “Then don’t beg for mercy now.”

*Who said I’d beg?”

That did it. The smile that curved his mouth was pure sin. fte kissed her, deep and punishing, all teeth and breath and laughter tangled in heat.

She arched up against him, belt tugging taut, every move testing the hold just to feel him tighten it again.

“Still think you can run?” he murmured against her lips.

She met his gaze, wild and grinning, wrists still caught in the belt. “I think we both like it better when I do.”

For a heartbeat, he just stared at her–wicked smile, that challenge–before he laughed low and dark, kissing her again like she’d just handed him his favorite sin.