Page 29 of Abducted By the Mafia Don
“This is insane,” she murmurs.
“No.” I reach out and touch her cheek, regarding her with all the real affection I feel on full display. “This is love.”
Her breath hitches, and her lips fall open.
I smile as I take the opportunity and kiss her lightly on that pink bow of a mouth.
There’s new brightness in her eyes when I draw back, pretending that such moments are commonplace for us, and that they don’t affect me intensely.
Every moment is fresh with Taggie. Each kiss is more meaningful.
She brings a finger to her lips and brushes it, giving a little laugh. “Your beard is scratchy.”
I smirk. “You love it.”
And the shyly pleased expression that she gets then makes my blood sing. She’s mine. She doesn’t realise it yet, but she’s mine forever.
“Open your present, bambola,” I prompt.
This time she obeys, carefully peeling off the ribbon and the tape and then pausing to relish the pulling back of the brown paper... to reveal a book. Leather-bound, chunky.
She lets out a squeal of excitement and runs her finger over the raised gold lettering on the cover.
“I knew it!” Lina crows.
“That is gorgeous!” Jessa peeks over from the other side of the table.
“The jealousy around here right now,” laughs Willow from the stage. “We should start the next auction lot so Richmond can have his thank-you kiss.”
Taggie blushes the cutest shade of pink and I grin. Hell yes, I’ll have a thank you. Maybe even take one tonight...
I swore I wouldn’t go to her room again, but as she cautiously puts the book down as the description for the next book begins, I know that’s a lie. I cannot stay away from her.
“Thank you.” She gives me a peck on the cheek.
Nice. Cute.
“Fuck it,” I growl, and pull her onto my lap. “That’s not enough.”
I take her lips greedily. She’s across my thighs, and her body is so slight and tiny—the doll that I call her—and my cock responds automatically. She’s everything. I kiss her with every bit of possessive feeling in me, and what’s baffling and wonderful is that she kisses me back.
Taggie lets out a little whimper and curls her fingers into my lapel, and I hold the back of her head and her waist, like if I let her go, she might fly away from me.
“I love you.” I don’t realise I’ve said it aloud, right into her mouth, until she says too and my heart takes flight.
I press my forehead to hers, my eyes closed.
Fuck. If this is faking, and reality is that Taggie doesn’t love me and won’t whisper those precious words, then I’ll stick with the charade. Reality can go fuck itself.
Over-fucking-rated.
We miss the entirety of the next auction lot, but by the time the third begins, I have Taggie comfortable on my lap, but thankfully not touching my hard-on, and have managed to stop mauling her.
She sneaks looks at her new special edition fantasy romance, one finger tracing over the dragons on the cover. But her hand remains on my chest, over my heart.
I wonder if she can feel it beating for her.
On stage, Felicity Brent is describing a book as old, and an OG romance, whatever that means.
