Page 69 of Auctioned To Her Dad's Mafia Enemies

“I think the need to pee might force theissue,” he says, and I start to wriggle away from him as he laughs, dragging meback.

“Kitten.” He strokes my hair back from myface, staring down at me with what can only be described as fondness. “I loveit when you beg me to come.”

Inside me, his cock jumps, illustrating hispoint.

“I think I like begging.”

He kisses the tip of my nose. “I think we’remade for each other.”

My limbs feel heavy, lazy, and too relaxed tomove, and Alexis stretches out beside me, one arm folded beneath his head, theother tracing slow, idle circles over my hip. His eyes, heavy-lidded and sated,study me like he’s memorizing every inch of my face. Like he’s afraid if heblinks, I might disappear.

He catches me watching him and smirkslazily—that wicked mouth. I should know better by now.

“Careful,dolcezza,” he murmurs, voicestill rough from what we just did. “Keep looking at me like that, and you’ll betoo sore to walk tomorrow.”

I let out a breathless laugh, the soundrasping through my still-raw throat. My body aches in all the best ways, but Iarch a brow, playing along. “Big words, considering you’re the one who justcollapsed on top of me two minutes ago, panting like a ninety-year-old.”

He makes a sound in the back of his throat—alow, playful growl—then props himself up on his elbow. His knuckles driftlazily over my bare shoulder, then down, tracing the curve of my arm like hecan’t help himself.

“Collapsed?” he repeats, mock-offended, hislips curving into a grin. “I was letting you catch your breath, baby. Being agentleman.”

I snort softly, but my heart skips a beat whenhis fingers catch mine, slowly tangling them together. I glance at our joinedhands, suddenly feeling too exposed, too raw, but he holds on tighter.

“You’re such a liar,” I murmur.

He dips his head, brushing his lips over myknuckles, a reverent, almost tender gesture that leaves me stunned andbreathless.

“Only when it matters,” he counters smoothly,his gaze suddenly too serious, too piercing.

And just like that, he has me again, ruiningme again, with nothing but a look.

For a long moment, we just stare at eachother, the playful banter falling away, leaving something heavier in its place.Something that makes my chest ache.

But then, he leans in close, his mouthbrushing my ear, and his warm breath fans across my skin, making me shiver.

“Besides,” he whispers, low and sinful,“you’re the one who was screaming my name so loud, I’m pretty sure they heardyou in Sicily.”

I slap his chest, heat rushing to my face, buthe only chuckles, smug and satisfied. Completely unrepentant.

“Asshole,” I grumble, trying to squirm away,but he catches my wrist and hauls me back against him, my spine flush with hischest.

“You love it,” he murmurs against my neck, hisvoice a dark, velvety promise.

And God help me, I do.

Because when he holds me like this, sopossessive, so sure, I know he could ruin me a thousand times over, and I’dstill come back to him.

He touches my cheek, suddenly, more seriously,holding my gaze like he’s at war with himself over something. Then he says, “I’mnot a good man, Aemelia. But with you, I want to be. I want to deserve you. Buteven if I never do, it won’t matter because I’m keeping you, whether I’veearned you or not.”

And even though there are many reasons for meto fear his confession, I pull him down to kiss me, wanting to be kept.

30

LUCA

HIS LAST MISTAKE

The elevator hums softly as I descend into thebasement, the smooth motion doing nothing to settle the rage simmering beneathmy skin. Antonio stands beside me, his knife already twirling between hisfingers with effortless precision. He doesn’t need to speak; I already know histhoughts. Whoever took that shot at us outside our own building made a gravemistake.

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