Page 12 of His Mafia Sweetheart

"Hi," he murmurs, the corners of his mouth curling up in a soft smile. He brushes a lock of hair off my forehead, the gesture unbearably sweet. "Fancy meeting you here."

A breathless laugh bubbles up in my throat, joy and love and aching fondness expanding in my chest until I feel like I might burst with it. "Smooth talker," I tease, leaning up to brush a kiss over his smiling mouth. "You know just what to say to get a guy naked."

Nico hums, low and approving, as he trails his lips down my jaw, my throat, the wildly fluttering pulse at the base of my neck. "Oh, I'm just getting started, baby. By the time I'm done with you, the only word you'll remember is my name."

And then he sets about making good on that promise, his mouth and hands taking me apart with devastating skill. He maps my body with lips and tongue and teeth, finding all the secret places that make me gasp and moan and writhe beneath him.

Time loses all meaning as he works me over, pleasure building and cresting in endless waves. He teases me to the brink again and again, backing off just before I can tumble over the edge, until I'm a sobbing, pleading wreck, my fingers clenched in the sheets, my hips arching helplessly off the bed.

"Please," I beg, my voice thin and thready with need. "Nico, please, I can't...I need you inside me, need you to fuck me, please..."

"Shhh," he soothes, his hands smoothing over my trembling thighs. "I've got you, baby. I'm going to give you what you need, fill you up so good..."

The blunt head of his cock nudges against my entrance, slick with lube and my own desperate arousal. And then he's pressing forward, breaching me in one long, slow slide that punches the air from my lungs and makes stars explode behind my eyes.

My back arches off the bed as he bottoms out, my body stretching and burning around the thick, heavy weight of him. It's almost too much, too intense, but Nico gentles me through it, peppering my face with soft kisses as he lets me adjust.

"Breathe, baby," he coaxes, his voice low and soothing. "Just relax, let me in. I've got you, I promise."

And I do. I breathe out on a shuddering sigh, my muscles unclenching, my body opening to welcome him deeper. And then he starts to move, long, deep strokes that drag over that sweet spot inside me, making me see stars.

The bedroom is dark, lit only by the thin sliver of moonlight spilling through the crack in the curtains. Our bodies move together on the sweat-damp sheets, a tangle of slick skin and grasping hands, our breaths mingling in harsh pants and bitten-off moans.

"Nico," I gasp, my back arching off the bed as he drives into me, his hips snapping against mine in a relentless rhythm. "Oh god, yes, just like that..."

He groans, low and guttural, his teeth sinking into the sensitive flesh of my shoulder. The sting only heightens the pleasure, my nerve endings singing with sensation as he takes me higher and higher.

I've never felt anything like this before, this bone-deep connection, this sense of utter rightness. It's like Nico's touch has awakened something in me, some hidden well of desire and need that I never knew existed.

"Fuck, Eli," he rasps, his voice rough with strain. "You feel so fucking good. So perfect around my cock, like you were made for me."

I whimper, my nails raking down the flexing muscles of his back. I can feel my release building, coiling hot and tight at the base of my spine. "I'm close," I pant, my hips rocking frantically against his. "Nico, please, I need..."

"I know, baby," he soothes, his hand slipping between our straining bodies to wrap around my aching cock. "I've got you. Come for me, Eli. Let me feel you."

He strokes me in time with his thrusts, his grip tight and perfect. It only takes a handful of twisting pulls before I'm coming with a silent scream, my vision whiting out with the force of my climax.

Nico follows me over the edge with a guttural shout, his hips stuttering against mine as he spills himself deep inside me. I cling to him as he shudders through the aftershocks, my heart so full it feels like it might burst.

But as the sweat cools on our skin and our breathing slows, I feel Nico start to pull away, his shoulders tensing beneath my hands.

"Nico?" I ask, my voice small and uncertain in the sudden quiet. "Is everything okay?"

He sits up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His back is to me, the broad expanse of his shoulders rigid with tension.

"This was a mistake," he says, his voice cold and distant. "I shouldn't have let it go this far."

I feel like I've been doused in ice water, my stomach plummeting to my toes. "What? Nico, what are you talking about? How can you say that, after what we just shared?"

He shakes his head, still not looking at me. "It doesn't matter. It was a moment of weakness, a lapse in judgment. It won't happen again."

Hurt and disbelief war for dominance in my chest, my eyes stinging with the threat of tears. "Bullshit," I choke out, my voice cracking. "You don't get to just dismiss this, Nico. Not after everything. Please, talk to me. Tell me what's going on."

But he's already standing, pulling on his clothes with jerky, mechanical movements. "I can't," he says, his voice thick with some unnameable emotion. "I'm sorry, Eli. But this ends here. It has to."

And then he's gone, the soft snick of the door closing behind him like a gunshot in the sudden stillness.

I curl into myself, silent sobs wracking my frame as hot tears spill down my cheeks. I don't understand. How could everything have changed so quickly? How could Nico just walk away, after the way he touched me, the way he held me like I was something precious?

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