Page 15 of His Mafia Lover

He surges forward, capturing my mouth in a kiss that steals the breath from my lungs. It's fierce and desperate and so full of love it brings me to my knees, my hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt, holding on for dear life.

"You won't lose me," he says against my lips, the words a fierce vow. "I'm not going anywhere, Santino. I'm in this, with you, for as long as you'll have me. Your darkness is a part of you, and I love every part of you, do you understand? I love you."

The words, the sheer, unvarnished truth of them, crack me open, spilling everything I've been holding back, everything I've been too afraid to voice. "I love you too," I rasp, the confession torn from the deepest part of my soul. "God, Aaron, I love you so much it terrifies me. I never...I never thought I could have this, have you. Not after everything I've done, everything I am."

He smiles at me, his eyes bright with unshed tears. "You have me, Santino. You've always had me. And I'm going to stand by your side, no matter what. We're going to face this together, whatever it is. And we're going to come out the other side stronger, unbreakable."

Here's the expanded section with more action, dialogue, sensory details, and physical sensations, written in a high heat and steamy style:

I nod, my throat too tight with emotion to form words. Instead, I pour everything I am, everything I feel, into the kiss I press to Aaron's lips. It's deep and searching, a claiming and a surrender all in one. My hands roam the planes and angles of his body, mapping the lean muscle and smooth skin like I'm trying to memorize every inch of him, to imprint him on my very soul.

"I need you," I breathe against his mouth, my voice raw with desire. "Need to feel you, to be inside you. Please, Aaron."

He shivers, pressing closer, his own hands urgent on my shoulders, my back. "Yes," he whispers, walking me towards the bed. "Yes, Santino, make me yours."

We undress each other with reverent hands, taking our time, savoring each brush of skin on skin. I worship his body with lips and teeth and tongue, learning the salt-sweet taste of him, the way he trembles and sighs at my touch.

"You're so beautiful," I murmur, kissing my way down his chest, his abs. "So perfect, Aaron. I can't believe I get to have you, to call you mine."

"Always," he gasps as I take him into my mouth, my tongue swirling around the sensitive tip. "I'm yours, Santino, always. No one else's."

The words set a fire in my blood, a possessive need to claim and mark and make sure the whole world knows that this man is mine. I work him with lips and hand until he's writhing beneath me, his fingers tangled almost painfully in my hair.

"Please," he begs brokenly, his hips lifting in search of friction. "Santino, please, I need more. Need you inside me, filling me up."

I groan around him, the heated desperation in his voice making my own arousal throb almost painfully between my legs. Pulling off with one last, hard suck, I crawl back up his body to capture his mouth in a searing kiss.

"Tell me you have stuff," I pant when we break apart, my forehead resting against his.

He nods frantically, reaching for the nightstand. I hear the sound of a drawer opening, the crinkle of foil and a bottle being uncapped. Then he's pressing lube and a condom into my hand, his eyes black with need.

I waste no time slicking up my fingers and reaching between his spread thighs to find his entrance. He cries out, arching into my touch as I breach him slowly, carefully, working him open on first one finger, then two. By the time I'm three deep, crooking them just right to graze that sensitive bundle of nerves, he's a trembling, incoherent mess, my name falling like a prayer from his lips.

"Now," he demands, his nails raking down my back. "Santino, now, I'm ready. Fuck me, take me, make me forget my own name."

Growling low in my throat, I withdraw my fingers and roll on the condom with shaking hands. Then I'm lining up and pushing in, breaching the tight, slick heat of him inch by glorious inch.

We both groan when I'm fully seated, wrapped up in each other as close as two people can be. I take a moment just to savor it, the feeling of absolute completion, of coming home.

Then I start to move, slow, deep strokes that ignite sparks up my spine, that make Aaron keen and writhe beneath me. "Yes," he gasps, tilting his hips to take me even deeper. "Oh god, Santino, just like that. You feel so good, so fucking perfect."

"You're perfect," I breathe, lavishing hot, open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, his throat. "Everything about you, Aaron. The way you look, the way you feel, the way you love me."

He makes a wounded sound, his arms coming around me, holding me impossibly closer. "I do," he whispers fiercely. "I love you so goddamn much, Santino. More than anything."

The words wash through me, bright and cleansing, chasing away the last lingering shadows of doubt. I claim his mouth again as my thrusts grow faster, harder, pouring everything I feel into the slick slide of lips and tongue. He meets me passion for passion, his body welcoming every driving stroke, every grind of my hips against his.

"Touch yourself," I command hoarsely, feeling my climax building at the base of my spine, my balls drawing up tight. "Want to feel you come around me, want to watch you fall apart."

He obeys with a moan, one hand flying to his own neglected cock, fisting it in time with my movements. It only takes a few tight, twisting strokes before he's tensing, crying out his release as he pulses hot and wet between our sweat-slicked bodies.

The rhythmic clench of him, the utterly wrecked expression of bliss on his face, is enough to send me hurtling over the edge after him. I bury myself to the hilt as I let go, my face tucked into the sweat-damp curve of his neck, his name a broken litany on my lips as pleasure crashes through me in wave after cresting wave.

In the aftermath, we cling to each other, panting harshly as we come down from the high. I press soft, reverent kisses to his face - his brow, his cheeks, the tip of his nose - until he laughs breathlessly and captures my lips with his own.

"I love you," I murmur into the scant space between us. "I love you so fucking much, Aaron. I'm never letting you go."

"Good," he whispers back, his fingers stroking soothingly through my hair. "Because you're stuck with me now, Santino Ricci. Forever, you hear me?"

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