Page 61 of Kidnapped By the Mafia

I tilt my head up to look at him, sensing that there’s something important he wants to say. “What about it?” I ask gently, encouraging him to continue.

A slow, wicked smile spreads across his face, and I feel a rush of anticipation as his hands begin to wander, exploring my body with a teasing, deliberate slowness. “I’m going to show you just how much you mean to me,” he murmurs, his voice a husky promise that makes my heart race.

His touch is both tender and possessive, a heady combination that leaves me breathless. He takes his time, savoring every moment, every reaction he draws from me.

His fingers glide over my skin, lighting a trail of fire in their wake, and when he begins to undress me, it’s with a reverence that makes me feel cherished, adored.

When I’m finally bare before him, he pauses, his eyes roaming over me with an intensity that makes me blush. But there’s no judgment in his gaze, only appreciation, only love.

“Your beautiful curves,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire. “All mine.”

The possessiveness in his voice sends a thrill through me, a warmth spreading through my chest. I reach for him, wanting to pull him closer, but he gently pushes my hands away, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Not yet,” he says, his lips curling into a wicked grin as he flips me over.

Before I can protest, his hand comes down in a light, playful spank that catches me off guard, making me gasp. The sensation is a shock, but it’s quickly followed by a wave of pleasure that leaves me breathless.

“Lucas…” I murmur, my voice a mix of surprise and arousal.

He chuckles, his lips brushing over my collarbone as he continues his exploration, his touch growing bolder, more insistent. “I want you to feel everything,” he whispers, his breath hot against my skin. “I want you to know how much I need to be in you.”

His mouth trails down my body, his kisses slow and deliberate, each one sending sparks of pleasure through me. When he reaches the apex of my thighs, my breath hitches in anticipation, my body already trembling with need.

He turns me over onto my back, his tongue flicking out to taste my clit, drawing a soft moan from my lips. But he doesn’t stop there—his focus is entirely on me, on giving me pleasure, on making me feel cherished, worshiped.

It’s more than I can handle, the sensations overwhelming, building into something unstoppable.

I’m lost in him, in the way he knows exactly what I need, in the way he’s so attuned to my every response. And when he finally lets me fall over the edge, the world around me shatters into a million pieces, leaving me breathless, and completely at his mercy.

As I come down from the high, he kisses his way back up my body. When he finally captures my mouth in a deep, passionate kiss, it’s with a hunger that mirrors my own, and I can’t help but respond, pulling him closer, needing him in every way possible.

His gaze is intense, his eyes dark with desire as he sits back against the headboard, his shirt unbuttoned and pushed open, revealing the hard planes of his chest.

I straddling him, my knees pressed into the mattress on either side of his hips. The heat between us is palpable, an electric charge that crackles in the air and pulls us closer. His hands rest on my waist, fingers digging into my skin.

“Come here,” he murmurs, his voice a low, commanding rumble that sends a shiver down my spine. His hands guide me forward, and I can feel the hard length of him pressing against my inner thigh, teasing, promising.

I lean in, my lips hovering just above his, our breaths mingling in the small space between us.

“Impatient, are we?” I whisper, a teasing smile playing at the corners of my mouth. I can’t help it; I love the way his eyes darken even more when I challenge him.

He chuckles, a deep, throaty sound that vibrates through me. “You have no idea,” he replies, his voice rough with desire. One of his hands slides up my back, tangling in my hair, and he pulls me down for a kiss that’s anything but gentle.

It’s hungry and demanding, and I respond in kind, my tongue meeting his with a fervor that matches the heat pooling low in my belly.

I shift my hips, feeling the head of his cock brush against me, and we both gasp into the kiss. His grip on my waist tightens, his control slipping for just a moment, and I take advantage of it, pushing myself up on my knees.

I guide him to my entrance, letting the tip tease me for a heartbeat before I lower myself onto him, inch by agonizing inch. He fills me slowly, deliberately, stretching me in a way that makes my breath hitch and my body tremble.

“God, Lucas,” I gasp, my head falling back as I take him all the way in. The sensation of him filling me completely is almost overwhelming, a delicious pressure that sends a shockwave of pleasure through my entire body. “I never get used to that.”

“Look at me,” he says, his voice firm but laced with a tenderness that’s rare for him. His hand tilts my chin back down, and I meet his gaze, my breath coming in shallow pants.

His eyes are burning with something more than just desire—something deeper, something that makes my heart race in my chest.

I start to move, setting a slow, deliberate rhythm, lifting myself up before sinking back down onto him. His eyes never leave mine, his lips parting slightly as he watches me, his own breaths becoming heavier, more labored.

I can feel the way his body responds to mine, the way his hips start to meet my movements, pushing up into me with each downward thrust. The friction between us builds, each stroke, each grind sending sparks of pleasure shooting through my veins.

“Just like that,” he groans, his hands gripping my hips to guide me, to set a pace that’s both torturous and perfect. “You feel so good, so fucking perfect.”

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