Page 143 of Vicious Games

He thrusts into me with a groan that sounds like surrender. My head falls back against the cold glass, a shocking contrast to the fire between us. He moves with purpose, each thrust deeper than the last, his hands gripping my hips, guiding me into the rhythm, drawing breathy moans from my lips with every stroke.

“You feel like heaven,” he rasps, kissing the hollow of my throat, his tongue flicking the pulse there. “So fucking sweet.”

His mouth trails lower, dragging fire along my skin, down my collarbone, across the swell of my breast, until he latches onto my nipple and sucks with the kind of hunger that leaves me trembling, gasping his name.

My fingers thread through his hair, tugging, anchoring me to this moment as his thrusts grow faster, deeper, more desperate. The glass behind me fogs with each breath, each cry, each whispered plea I didn’t know I was capable of making.

Every drag of him inside me feels like a promise written in fire. Every moan from his lips is a confession.

When his forehead drops against mine again, his eyes locked on mine, our bodies slick and trembling, he whispers, “Come for me, Frankie. Let go. Let me have you. Let me have all of you.”

And I do. I fall apart in his arms, body arching, legs tightening around him, mouth open in a silent cry that only he could pull from me. My release crashes over me like a wave, like a storm, shattering everything I thought I knew about pleasure, about love, about being seen.

Lucky follows with a curse and a groan, burying himself deep as he comes undone inside me, every muscle taut, every breath ragged. We shake together, our bodies locked, and our souls stripped bare.

Then, for a long, aching moment, there’s only silence. Only us.

I hold onto him, burying my face in his neck as the city lights blur behind us. And in that moment, against the glass and the night sky, I stop running and let myself fall—into him, into this, into us.

“I’m not going to become a nun, am I?”

“No, baby, you’re not. The only vow you’re making is to me one day.”

Chapter 25

Luciano

What’s that saying? Time flies when you’re having fun.

Well, it flies even faster when you’re in love.

For the past couple of weeks, I’ve been on cloud fucking nine.

And that’s all because of her.

Because of my Frankie.

Damn.

If I’d known that getting punched in the face would lead me to my soulmate, I would’ve baited her to swing at me a long time ago.

But like Mom always says—timing is everything.

And right now? It’s make-your-girlfriend-come o’clock.

“Lucky, where are we going?” Frankie giggles as I tug her out of the school hallway.

“You’ll see.” I grin, slipping an arm around her waist and yanking her close before she can escape.

“Whatever you’re planning, stop.” She slaps my hands away, laughing. “We’re supposed to be decorating the school for Christmas. Not fooling around.”

Yep. Frankie somehow talked me and most of my siblings—Marcello and Stella included—into helping decorate the school since Christmas is right around the corner. What she didn’t know is that I had my own reasons for saying yes, and they weren’t exactly selfless.

“Did you seriously think I came to school on a Saturday to hang tinsel with the decorating committee?” I raise a brow. “Babe, I came because I needed some alone time with my girl.”

Her face instantly lights up, and my heart does a goddamn backflip. I’m addicted to that glow she gets whenever I call her mine. Took me a while to break through that beautiful, stubborn shell of hers, but she’s starting to see what I already know.

We’re not just some high school fling that fizzles out after graduation.

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