Page 95 of Read This Before the Villain falls in Love with You

Matteo wheezes, then stumbles toward Sofia. "She's not joking, Luca."

Enzo mutters, "Terrifying is our brand. Pass the ice packs."

I steer Nora upstairs before Nonna can start inventorying bruises out loud. My room. Our room now, if she wants it that way. The door shuts. Silence hits us.

She turns on me the second the lock clicks. "Is it done? Don't give me the mafia boss filter. Is Bellini dead?"

I set my gun on the dresser and strip the tactical vest, letting it hit the floor with a heavy thud. "One clean shot. It's finished, Nora. The whole thing."

She lets out a shaky breath that sounds half like a laugh and half like a sob, closing the distance between us. "Good. Because I'm exhausted, you smell like smoke, and I need you to touch me right now."

Her fists knot in my tactical shirt, yanking me down until her mouth crashes into mine. She tastes like salt, iron, and cordite. When her teeth catch my lower lip, I shove her back against the door and wedge my knee between her thighs. My palms slide under the hem of her shirt, gripping the bare, heated curve of her waist.

She tugs at the collar of my torn black shirt, lips touching mine. "Shower. Wash the blood off first. I want you clean."

My thumb traces the line of her jaw. "Incredibly romantic."

She drags me by the collar directly toward the steaming bathroom. "Highly practical."

The shower knobs turn under my hand, and boiling water hits the stone floor in a roaring hiss. White fog rolls over the glass in seconds. Nora pulls the my shirt over her head and drops it by the bench. My holster and muddy boots follow, clattering against the tiles. When I catch her wrists under the spray, her skin is warm and damp, marked only by the faint yellow rings left by plastic ties. I draw her flush against my bare chest, the hot water soaking through her hair and washing down our backs.

Her palms smooth over my wet chest. "Stop staring at me like that."

I lean down to catch her mouth with mine. "I'm making sure you're still here."

She tilts her head back into the rush of warm water. "I'm here. Now finish washing so we can get into that bed."

I soap my hands and wash the blood off her shoulders, her throat, the split lip carefully. She washes me the same way. When the water runs clear she presses me back against the tile and kisses me like she is collecting on a debt.

I shut off the faucet with a sharp twist. "We're going to the bed. Now."

She steps out onto the bathmat and leans in. "Demanding."

We kick the towels aside. Nora drops onto the mattress with damp skin, dragging me down by the back of my neck. I lean over her, pressing my mouth against the hollow of her collarbone while my fingers trace the dark purple rings on her wrists. She arches her back against the sheets, swearing softly under her breath.

Her fingers knot in my damp hair. "Luca."

I slide down the sheets, parting her thighs and pressing my lips to the inside of her knee. Nora grips the cotton duvet in white-knuckled fists. I work lower, tasting her heat, tongue and fingers moving together until her hips jerk off the bed and she shudders around me with a cracked gasp.

I pull myself back up the bed. Her legs wrap tight around my waist, guiding me straight against her. I push in slow, feeling the heat clamp around me, and rest my forehead against hers while her breath hits my chin.

Her blunt nails dig hard into my shoulders. "Move faster."

I nip the tender spot beneath her ear with a low growl. "Let me feel you, little bird, or I'll lose my mind."

Her ankles cross behind my back. "Then lose it. I dare you."

I drive forward, catching her lips as the headboard knocks rhythmically against the wall. Nora meets every thrust with a sharp breath, her heels hooking tighter. I reach between our bodies, finding her clit with my thumb, and she shatters against me, sobbing my name into my neck.

My chest heaves, every muscle locking as I spill into her. The room falls dead quiet except for the rasp of our breathing, our sweat cooling against the tangled linen.

Her fingertip trails across the jagged scar beneath my ribs. "You chose peace."

I bury my mouth in the crook of her shoulder. "I chose you. Killing him quick was the fastest way back."

A tired smirk tugs at her lips. "Good plan. Stick with it. Next time give me warning before you finish a war, though. I prefer dressing for the occasion."

I roll onto my back, pulling her against my ribs until her cheek rests flat over my heart. My fingers thread into her damp hair and stay there.