Page 38 of Claimed Through Deception

She closes the distance between us.

She stops right in front of me. She raises her small, pale hands. She doesn't hesitate. She presses her palms flat against my chest, right over my racing heart.

"Breathe," she instructs softly.

I stare down at her. "He lost a shipment. He betrayed the family."

"I don't care," she replies. Her hands slide up my chest, the heat of her palms seeping through the fabric of my shirt. "Breathe, Niccolò."

She uses my name. Not my title. My name.

The sound of it on her tongue breaks me. The homicidal rage drains out of my blood, replaced instantly by a blinding, overwhelming rush of lust.

I wrap my bloodstained hands around her waist. I lift her off the floor.

Livia gasps, her hands gripping my shoulders as I carry her toward the desk. I sweep my arm across the mahogany wood, sending ledgers, pens, and files crashing to the floor. I set her down on the edge of the desk.

I step between her legs.

Her black uniform rides up her thighs. I crowd her into the edge of the wood, pressing my body flush against hers.

"You shouldn't have stayed," I murmur roughly. "You should have run."

"I'm not running," she breathes.

Her dark eyes are wide, dilated, and swimming with the same desperate need clawing at my insides.

I slide my hands up her waist, gripping her ribs. I pull her forward, right to the edge of the desk. My mouth crashes down onto hers.

It isn't a gentle kiss.

Livia opens her mouth for me instantly. She doesn't fight. She tangles her fingers into my hair, pulling me closer. I devour her. I taste the vanilla on her skin, the tang of adrenaline, the underlying sweetness that belongs only to her. My tongue sweeps into her mouth, claiming every inch of it.

She meets my rhythm. Her small hands grip my shoulders, her nails digging through my shirt. She kisses me back with a fierce, hungry desperation that matches my own.

I groan against her mouth. I slide my hands down to the back of her thighs, gripping the soft, bare skin just above her dark stockings. I pull her legs apart, stepping deeper into her space. The hard ridge of my erection presses directly against her core through our clothes.

Livia arches her back, a soft, high moan vibrating into my mouth.

The sound drives me completely insane.

I break the kiss, trailing open-mouthed kisses down her jaw, down the long column of her throat. I bite down gently on the sensitive skin right above her collarbone. She shivers violently, her head falling back, exposing her neck to me.

"You drive me crazy," I rasp against her skin. "I can't think. I can't sleep. You are all I see."

"Niccolò," she whimpers.

I slide my hand up the back of her thigh, pushing the fabric of her black dress higher. I find the edge of her cotton underwear. My fingers slip beneath the band, mapping the curve of her hip, sliding lower.

She is incredibly wet.

The realization makes my vision go dark. I stroke her, my thumb finding the swollen center of her heat.

Livia jolts. Her hands grip my biceps tight enough to bruise. "Wait. Wait."

I stop moving my hand, but I don't remove it. I look up at her face. Her eyes are glazed with lust, her lips swollen and red from my mouth. She is breathing fast, her chest rising and falling in sharp, erratic bursts.

"You're engaged," she whispers. The words are painful.