Page 64 of Mafia King of Lies

The anger that glazes over her tone is warranted. But it still catches me off guard slightly.

I shake my head, dragging a hand through my hair. “I can’t—I won’t let you get attached to me, Maria. I don’t want you to confuse what this is.”

She levels me with her stare. “Unlessyouare a little confused, I will tell you. This, what is going to happen between the two of us, is a normal action that occurs between husband and wife. If I’m stuck in this marriage with you, Matteo, then you’re either going to fuck me—or let me find someone who will.”

Her words flare something dark and dangerous within me. I grab her thigh with one hand, grip her chin, and tilt her face up to meet my gaze. “You would let another man have you?”

She sucks in a breath, but her voice doesn’t waver. “The man I want won’t take me.”

My grip on her tightens. Fucking hell.

She tilts her head back, her lips inches from mine, her breath warm and unsteady. “So tell me, Matteo—should I give myself to someone else?”

The words ignite something dark inside me. My restraint—already threadbare at best—tears apart completely.

I grab her chin, forcing her to look at me again. My voice is low, guttural. “You think I’d fucking let that happen?”

Her lips part, and I don’t miss the way her pulse flutters at her throat, the way her body trembles against mine—not with fear, but with anticipation.

“Then do something about it,” she whispers, her voice barely above a breath.

Her words slam into me, knocking the breath from my chest, slicing through me like a blade.

The image of another man touching her—his hands where mine should be, his mouth claiming what’s already mine—it’s a sickness, a madness I can’t control.

I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t need her this much.

The thought of her belonging to someone else?

It makes me homicidal.

Maria isn’t a possession. She isn’t mine to keep. But fuck if I’ll let another man have her.

And that’s when I snap.

My restraint shatters, splintering like glass, torn apart by something dark and primal. A slow exhale escapes me—a warning, a surrender, a fucking admission of defeat.

I crash my lips onto hers, hard, punishing, possessive—devouring her like a man starved, like I need to erase the very idea of anyone else touching her.

Because tonight, she’s not just my wife.

She’s mine.

19

MARIA

The moment his lips crash against mine, I meet him with equal hunger, daring him to take more. He swallows my moan greedily, pulling me in. His body is fire, his heat seeping into my skin, branding me, making me crave more. He coaxes my lips to move and I follow without complaint.

He kisses exactly as I expected—lethal, all-consuming, overpowering. Just like the man himself. Passion and excitement surge through me in monstrous waves. His tongue tangles with mine, and I melt into him, starved for his touch.

We moan in unison, our hunger igniting, stripping away every last shred of restraint. My hands tangle in his hair, gripping the silky strands as heat pools deep in my core.

This is a feeling I have never experienced in my entire life. It’s… cosmic. It consumes me and takes over all logic, and I move on pure, raw instinct. He rips his lips from mine, causing a whimper to escape my mouth.

“Maria,” he breathes, his lips trailing wet hot kisses up and down my neck. I arch my neck to the side giving him more access to the sensitive parts of my skin. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

I open my mouth, but only pleasure-filled sighs escape. I pull at the hairs on the back of his head. My legs wind around his waist, pulling him even closer. I crave more—aching for him in ways that feel almost sinful.

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