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He’s still buried in me when his eyes open and meet mine. “You’re so tight. So good.” He lowers his head to kiss me before withdrawing, then surging forward again.
My God. How did I live without this?
Everything is right. Perfect. The feel of him moving inside me, taking me slowly, locking us together, and pausing before pulling back. His mouth moves over my jaw, down my throat, and the grunts he releases with every stroke only deepens my pleasure. It’s sweet torture that pushes me a little closer to the finish line with every stroke. But I’m not in any hurry. I hope it never ends.
He sucks in a hiss through clenched teeth when my nails bite into his thick, firm shoulders. I didn’t know I was gripping him that way. Part of me is still afraid I’ll lose this. That I’ll lose him. That it’s not real. That the happiest moment of my life is nothing but a dream.
“Tell me this is real,” I beg, holding him close while the tension builds. “Please. Tell me.”
He surprises me by slamming home, sending shock waves rolling through me. “Does that feel real?” he whispers, watching me react before he does it again. And again.
“Y-yes!” I gasp, then moan when he grinds against my clit. I’m going to lose my mind if this goes on much longer. I can’t take it. It’s too much, too good, too hot, too everything.
“This is real.” He loses his rhythm as his pace picks up. Now he’s pounding me, gritting his teeth, taking me hard, and making tears of joy spring to my eyes when he repeats one word. “Mine. Mine. Mine.”
His. I’ll never get tired of hearing it. “Yes!” I cry out, meeting his strokes, reveling in the sight of him losing himself as I do the same. By the time he slams home with an earsplitting roar, I’m coming apart around him.
After floating in blissful darkness, the sound of his ragged breaths brings me back to the present. He’s sprawled out on top of me, his face against my neck.
My Luca.
I don’t have the first idea how it happened. I only know I’m glad it did. My heart floods with unimaginable tenderness before I whisper, “I love you.”
“You’d better.” He raises his head, wearing a smirk. “I don’t know what else I could do to prove how much I love you.”
“You don’t need to prove it,” I assure him while running my leg over his. “Though if you’re feeling ambitious, we can stay here in bed, and you can keep doing that to me all night long.”
A devilish light glows in his eyes. “As if I wasn’t planning on it,” he growls out before devouring my throat while I giggle helplessly.
“This is weird.” My palm is sweaty, but I’m not about to let go of Luca’s hand as we cross the lawn on our way up to the main house. “I can’t help thinking somebody’s going to jump out and kill me.”
“They won’t. You have nothing to worry about.” He smiles at me before raising our clasped hands so he can kiss mine, then murmurs, “This is the first day of the rest of our lives together.”
I love the idea. It warms my heart and makes an already sunny day seem brighter, even if my pulse still flutters with nerves as we enter the mansion.
If he believes we’re safe, I have to believe it too. Right? Putting my trust in anyone but myself isn’t ideal at this point and is something that won’t happen overnight. But I’ll keep that to myself.
Right away, a curly-headed tornado sweeps across the grand entry hall and throws her arms around me. “We’ll be sisters, I just know it,” Guilia gushes.
“Take it easy, kiddo.” Luca laughs, and it’s clear when he beams at her equally enthusiastic hug that he adores her. “Let’s not scare her off, okay?”
Right away, she backs off, chewing her lip before nodding. “It’s a sausage fest around here,” she groans out. “I can’t afford to lose an ally.”
Our laughter echoes off the marble and wood in the expansive space and deep down, I can’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe, this could be the start of a new friendship.
We push farther into the hall as the three of us walk to the dining room for breakfast.
Luca explained the daily ritual during one of the breaks we took overnight.
We never did sleep.
There was too much to talk about between the breathtaking orgasms.
With the family taking time to be together during such tense circumstances, the dining room is full of voices once we reach it. It’s a little overwhelming at first—they’re all so loud. Rocco and his wife, Isabella, are seated at opposite ends of a long table. Niccolo and Francesco are in the middle of telling a story that makes the woman of the house laugh softly and swat at them with her napkin. Dante sits at his father’s right, and the two of them are engaged in a serious conversation.
I shudder to think what they're talking about, but it’s probably murder, money laundering, and all sorts of illegal activities at the top of their list. As I glance over at the father-son duo, I can’t help but notice the intense aura that surrounds them like a dark cloud hanging over their heads, a reminder of the secrets and power that come with their mafia connections. Their hushed conversation is a window into a world I never thought I’d be a part of, and it sends a chill down my spine.
A handful of guards are scattered around, eating where they stand, taking food from a credenza loaded with covered chafing dishes.
