Page 140 of Mila: The Godfather

So much.

I fell in love with the man who proposed a fake marriage for my safety.

The man who treated me with gentleness and kindness from the first moment we met.

The one who has me dreaming while awake and making each and every single one a reality.

It was the quiet type of love.

I couldn’t tell you when exactly, I’d fallen for him. Maybe it was when he’d killed a man for me and, the next instant, lifted me into his arms and taken me to safety. Or possibly when he looked at me as if I was just like him and not like I was lacking in any way. When he took me to his private paradise, that had so much meaning to him and his family. Or maybe, it could have been when he introduced me to the people he cares about and told them, in other words, that I was the single most important person to him.

Whenever it was, I know now that I am head over heels for him.

And I needed to do a better job of showing it.

Which made my stomach and heart do weird things.

Lifting my head, I press a soft kiss to his mouth. Then I pull back to look into his eyes. They’re so blue and so happy.

“What was that for?”

“I-I just wanted to kiss you.” I touch his bearded cheek, loving the feel of it.

Riagan lifts his hand. “I’m going to touch your neck.”

There’s that too.

He remembers how my neck and my head are triggers, and he always tells me before touching me.

Then he grabs my neck gently and brings my mouth down to his. We’re so close that the tip of our noses are touching. “You can kiss me anytime you want to, sweetheart.” Then he takes my lips in his. He might’ve well taken my breath too.

“Want a fact?” He says while playing with one of my curls.

Touching his chest where his heart is, I tap it gently three times, then stop. I do it repeatedly in sync with his heartbeat.

I love the reminder that he’s here and he’s alive.

“Tell me, Riagan.” I whisper with a small smile on my face.

“You’re the best sex I’ve ever had.” he mumbles, still playing with my hair.

I pause at that, and look at him, trying to see if he’s joking.

But he’s not laughing. He is serious.

I smile big at that because a part of me feels jealousy of every other woman that had him before me.

But now I know.

I’m the one he desires.

The one who wears his ring and has his name.

The one who gets his sweet and gentle side.

Me.

Not them.

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