Page 68 of Surprise Twins for the Mafia Prince
“I bought it for you,” he says, as if this should be obvious.
“Sure,” I say with a wink. The bottle is full and unopened, so he’s probably telling the truth, but it’s too fun to tease him. I can’t resist. “It’s okay to admit that you like the bubbles tickling your skin. Does the scent of lavender linger on your skin the next day?”
Dario narrows his eyes at me, and I can’t hold in a giggle.
“Are you done?” he asks dryly, and I shake my head.
“No promises.”
“You know, my plan was to spoil you, but if you keep it up, I might have to go with a punishment instead.”
I plant my hands on my hips and pop one out. “You wouldn’t dare.”
But I know he would. And I’d probably love every second of it.
Dario doesn’t rise to the challenge in my words. Instead, he turns to the tub, calmly twisting the faucet. Steam curls up almost instantly. He opens the bubble bath and pours it in without a word. A third of the bottle gone in one smooth motion.
When he turns back to me, his eyes are dark and fixed. The kind of look that leaves no room for misinterpretation.
Heat surges low in my belly. I lick my lips as he peels off his shirt, revealing the body that still makes me weak in the knees.
“Are you getting in too?” I ask, trying to sound casual. I fail.
“Of course.” His mouth curves into a lazy, devastating smirk. “You know I don’t do anything half-assed.”
As if to prove his point, his hands reach for me. My blouse hits the floor, then my bra, unhooked with a practiced ease that tells me he’s already ten steps ahead of me.
Before I can catch my breath, his mouth is on me. He cups my breasts, thumbs brushing over my nipples as his tongue flicks between them—slow, teasing. I let out a shaky moan, my head falling back, hands finding his shoulders.
He grazes me with his teeth, then soothes with his tongue. The contrast sends a full-body shiver through me. My knees threaten to give way.
“You always taste so good,” he murmurs, his breath hot against my skin. “But I need more.”
His fingers are already tugging at my jeans, dragging them down with my panties. The air hits me, cool against my flushed skin, and my nipples tighten even more.
I’m bare before him. Breathless.
Without a word, he leads me backward until my spine meets cool tile.
“Dario, what?—”
The question dies in my throat when he drops to his knees. For the second time today.
Only this time, there’s nothing gentle about it.
He hooks one of my legs over his shoulder and buries his face between my thighs. No hesitation. No preamble. Just raw hunger.
The first sweep of his tongue has me crying out, one hand slapping against the tile behind me for balance.
He devours me like I’m the only thing that’s ever tasted good.
My moans blend with the sound of running water as his thumb teases near my clit—almosttouching, never quite. Meanwhile, his tongue slides inside me, curling, stroking, pulling wanton sounds from deep inside me.
“Dario,” I pant. “Please—god—please touch my clit. I need?—”
He hums against me, like he’s savoring my begging, and the vibration alone nearly unravels me.
“Such a needy little thing,” he says, lips brushing my skin. “You know I’ve got what you need.”
