Page 108 of Mafia Kingdom

"Do you like it?" he asks quietly, standing directly behind me.

"It's stunning," I whisper, breath hitching as his hands settle lightly on my shoulders, fingers skimming over my skin in featherlight touches. Warmth radiates through me, pooling low in my abdomen.

"Not nearly as stunning as you," Marco murmurs, his breath warm against my ear. I tilt my head slightly, leaning into his touch, craving more. His lips brush gently over the curve of my neck, making me gasp softly.

"Marco..." My voice trails off into a quiet moan as he kisses the sensitive spot beneath my ear, his teeth grazing my skin. His hands slide down my shoulders, tracing along my collarbones, slipping lower to caress the curves of my breasts through my silk blouse. My breathing turns uneven, desire swelling inside me like an unstoppable tide.

He tugs at the fabric impatiently, undoing buttons swiftly until the blouse parts, exposing my skin to his exploring hands. His fingers skim over my bare flesh, igniting sparks wherever they touch. Slowly, he turns my chair, guiding me to face him. My heart slams against my chest at the heated intensity in his dark eyes.

"Stand," he commands softly.

I rise shakily, the chair scraping back across the polished floor. Marco's gaze roams over me hungrily as he pushes the blousefrom my shoulders, letting it flutter softly to the floor. He pulls me closer, his hands settling on my hips possessively, fingers pressing firmly, anchoring me to him.

"You're mine, Sasha," he whispers roughly, eyes blazing with fierce possession.

"Yours," I breathe, surrendering fully.

Marco's mouth crashes onto mine, hungry and demanding. His tongue sweeps inside, claiming me entirely, and I melt into him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt. The world disappears—there's only Marco, the heat of his skin, the strength of his arms around me.

He guides me backward, lifting me effortlessly onto the dining table. The cool tabletop beneath me contrasts deliciously with the scorching heat of his touch. Marco’s hands find the zipper of my skirt, tugging it down with controlled impatience, discarding it swiftly.

His fingers brush teasingly over the lace edge of my underwear, and my hips arch instinctively toward him, desperate for more. He smiles darkly, sliding the lace down my legs slowly, tormenting me with anticipation.

"Marco, please..." My voice trembles with desire.

He leans forward, his mouth tracing a searing path along my inner thigh. I grip the table’s edge, eyes fluttering shut, overwhelmed by the sensation. His tongue moves higher,brushing against my aching core, drawing a broken cry from my lips.

"Look at me," Marco commands hoarsely.

My eyes snap open, locking onto his intense gaze as he continues his exquisite torment. Pleasure spirals higher, each flick and stroke of his tongue bringing me closer to the edge. His name tumbles from my lips, breathless and pleading, until finally, mercifully, I shatter, sensations rippling through my body, leaving me trembling and spent.

Marco rises, swiftly undoing his belt and freeing himself. He aligns himself between my thighs, leaning over me, eyes locked with mine, his expression raw and vulnerable.

"Forever, Sasha," he murmurs, driving into me with one deep thrust.

I gasp sharply, wrapping my arms around his neck, holding him tightly as he moves within me, each movement deep and deliberate. Our bodies find a rhythm effortlessly; matched breaths and synchronized heartbeats fueling our passion.

He captures my lips again, tender and fierce, our moans blending into each other as pleasure builds rapidly. I cling desperately, nails scoring into his shoulders, as ecstasy crashes over us both, pulling us under wave after wave.

Spent, Marco gently gathers me against his chest, pressing soft kisses to my hair. I nestle into him, breathing deeply, feeling the steady, reassuring rhythm of his heartbeat against my cheek.

"I love you," I whisper, my voice barely audible.

"And I you," Marco replies fiercely, his arms tightening around me protectively. "Always."

We gather our things, turn off the lights, and walk upstairs to the apartment above the restaurant. It's nothing like Marco's fortress of a house—it's smaller, warmer, filled with Lily's artwork and my cookbook collection and the gradually accumulating evidence of our life together.

As we reach the door, I glance back down to the street where Tony's car is parked, a dark sentinel against the curb. Some things haven't changed. Some never will. The danger that shadows Marco is part of our reality, one we've accepted.

But inside, with Marco's hand warm against the small of my back, I'm not afraid. We've created something I never thought possible when I first went to him for help.

I close the door behind us, leaving the shadows outside. At least for tonight.

LUCAS

The Aftermath

I CAN’T FEEL my legs.

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