Page 97 of Auctioned To Her Dad's Mafia Enemies

She leans in, her mouth brushing against mine,her breath warm and sweet. “I love you, Luca. My husband.”

I close my eyes for a beat, feeling the weightof it—the promise, the gift of it—pour over me like baptism. Like salvation.

Aemelia makes me want to be a better manworthy of her innocence and love. I don’t know what that will mean when weleave this paradise and return to the prison of our lives, but I have a feelingthat nothing will remain the same for long.

When I open my eyes, I meet her gaze fiercely,my voice hoarse and cracked from the force of what I feel. “I will never stoploving you. Not for a day, not for a minute. Never.”

And then, I kiss her again as the sky losesthe warmth of the day, with the taste of salt forever lingering on our lips.

Day 4

ANTONIO

The night is still, except for the rhythmiclap of the waves against the stilts of our villa. Luca and Alexis left an hourago to play cards in a bar up the road so that I can spend some time alone withAemelia. It’s been our arrangement since we arrived, and I’ve relished theintimacy it brought to our time together.

I sit on the edge of the bed, propped againstthe headboard, legs stretched out in front of me. The silk sheets are bunchedaround my waist, and Aemelia is tucked into my side, her head resting on mychest. She traces idle patterns against my skin, her fingertip gliding over thesmall scars and jagged marks that tell the story of my life. A life thatexisted before her and a life that now only makes sense with her in it.

She runs her finger over a narrow scar justbelow my ribs, the mark from a knife fight years ago. Her lips brush the raisedflesh as if her kiss alone could erase it. I catch her wrist and still herhand, bringing her fingers to my mouth. I press a kiss to each knuckle,reverent and tender. She doesn’t realize how easily she undoes me with agesture so small.

“You’re quiet,” she whispers, tilting her headback to look at me. “Are you okay?”

I turn to my side, pinning her beneath me. Shegasps softly, but her eyes never leave mine. She trusts me. Completely. Thatknowledge sends a dull ache through my chest. She’ll never know all my sins,but she accepts me as I am—a flawed man in a flawed world. A man who’d dobetter if my circumstances were different.

“I’m more than okay,” I murmur, brushing astrand of hair away from her face. “I’m wondering how I ever lived withoutyou.”

Her lips part slightly, eyes going soft andglassy. I lower my head, kissing her slowly, deliberately. My hands slide downher sides, revering every inch of her, memorizing the slope of her waist andher skin's warmth.

“You’re mine, Aemelia,” I rasp against herlips, my voice shaking slightly with the weight of the truth. “But you’re morethan that. You’re my peace. My redemption. My reason.”

Her breath catches, but she doesn’t look away.She cups my face in her hands, tilting her head slightly, and kisses me backwith a slow, aching tenderness that makes my pulse throb in my throat.

The world outside these four walls could burn,and I wouldn’t care.

I let my hand drift between her legs, strokingthrough the stickiness of our release and sigh from a bone-deep contentmentthat’s new and unfamiliar. We talked about birth control, but Aemelia’s readyto start a family. Knowing she might be pregnant with our child has made useven more protective of her if possible.

She squirms against my touch.

“Again?”

She reaches out for my semi-erect cock. “Areyou complaining, old man?”

I pin her to the bed so fast, she squeals. “Whoare you calling old man?”

“No one.” Laughter bursts from her as I grabat her side to tickle her.

“Oh, yeah? Want me to show you what I’velearned with all my extra years of experience?”

She bites her lip, playful and sweet, and Ispread her legs with my thighs and thrust so deep inside her that she criesout.

The lock beeps, the door opens and Luca andAlexis stroll into the villa casually like we’re watching TV, not in the middleof fucking.

“Well, what do we have here?” Alexis drawls,his eyes glimmering with heat, already reaching for the back of his shirt andtugging it over his head in one fluid motion. His grin is all hunger and sin,but Luca’s eyes?

They blaze with raw, unrepentant possession.

Icantmy hips,driving into the Aemelia just the way she likes, and she moans, pinching hernipples in time with my thrusts. Luca watches, his jaw tight, his chest heavingwith slow, heavy breaths, and then he moves.

Efficient. Controlled. Like a predator finallyclosing in on his prey.

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