Page 76 of Mafia King's Surprise Baby

He nods. “You do look like a French woman.”

“Mattia and my father didn’t recognize me, you know.” It makes me laugh every time I think back to their confusion now. Then a thought sobers me. “But not you. You recognized me right away.”

His gaze goes dark as he peruses my face with his eyes. “I’d recognize you anywhere. Even in another life.”

My breath hitches in my lungs. I can hear the longing in his tone, the caring and feelings in his voice. They are so much an echo of my own. Again, I’m reminded how much Leo is my person. Mine.

“As I would you,” I whisper.

My eyes meet his, and it’s as if time stops. His left hand clasps mine in my lap tighter as his right hand finds my jaw again, his palm molding to my cheek, his fingers brushing the shell of my ear and eliciting shivers down my body. I don’t know when he pulls me to him and his lips find mine, pressing and seeking a kiss, the warmth of his big body radiating out to me like sunlight calls to a dying plant.

I melt into his touch, my lips parting under his, welcoming histongue as it seeks mine, as it probes the depths of my mouth, as he strokes and teases and takes and gives and brings me back to life again.

His hand tightens along my jaw, and I relish the possessive touch, the feel of him taking from me all that I am willingly giving, all I have to give him. No one but Leo can make me feel this way, like I’m an open book and all the words on the pages make sense, complete each other, string along to make a masterpiece he yearns to devour over and over again like he’s coming back to me for the first time every time, the wonder still as palpable and something to be ultimately cherished as much as it’s to be relished.

I moan against his mouth, angling my body closer to his, seeking to be as near him as possible, with nothing between us preferably. My skin is burning for his touch, for his fingertips grazing it ever so softly that it brings chills wracking all through me, every nerve ending standing at attention.

I must’ve triggered something in him because his kiss becomes even more ravenous, his mouth slanting over mine ever more so to enable him to plunder some more, to drink in my every sigh, my very breath.

When my breasts press up against his chest, Leo moans into our kiss. It’s a feral sound that makes every feminine part of me sing with joy.Iam the woman doing this to him, wringing this helplessness from such a big, strong, powerful man. My hands are now clutching at his shirt, wanting to feel the heat of his skin more closely, yearning to burn from his perpetual warmth. And Leo? He seems to want the same thing from me.

One hand is still cradling my cheek, but the other, it’s on myneck, brushing down my collarbone and shoulder he’s exposed with his touch. I’m in one of Bérénice’s flowy boho-chic caftans, so it’s not hard for him to run his hand farther down, to press his palm to my heavy, full breast and start to mold the plying flesh to his grip. I can’t believe my breasts grow even more sensitive as he touches one over the clinging fabric of my bodysuit. My nipples have pebbled into hard points ever since his hand landed on me, and the one so close to his thumb is hurting, craving his touch.

I gasp when he flicks his thumb against the hardened nub, a low moan keening out of me as my thighs clench of their own accord, squeezing my pussy that’s already tingling and begging to be filled.

He’s sitting right next to me. It will take just a small slide to angle closer, to open my legs and press my throbbing sex against his knee.

I’m about to do just that when I recall where we are. Oh my God, why does everything we do that’s so pleasurable have to happen in a place that reminds me of my brother? Forget the interlude in Tribeca—we weren’t going to get it on there. But our first time? Mattia’s wedding suite. Our second time? Mattia’s living room.

I shudder and break away, panting heavily as I stare into Leo’s lust-painted face.

“Not here. We’re in Mattia’s house.”

I don’t add that he can come down at any minute. Hana’s out for the count, but Enzo can also get up and find us, his mother with a stranger and in such a compromising position. He’s too young to comprehend what it means, but still, I don’t want to scar my son. Or my brother any further.

Leo’s Adam’s apple bobs a few times, then he nods. Without another word, he stands up and turns away. I’m sure he’s adjusting his pants, just like I’ll need to adjust my panties that are sticking to my folds right now.

“I should leave,” he mutters.

I glance at the clock on the mantel. “It’s already almost morning.”

He walks to the front door, and I follow him, uncomfortable with the satin of my panties wedged between my thighs.

In front of the panel, he stops and turns to me.

I bite my lip when I see his face. Lust is clearly still visible on his taut features, in the hooded lids over his dark eyes blazing with passionate fire.

“Leo,” I whisper.

He’s on me in the next second, his mouth crashing onto mine, his body pressing me against the wall. Heat charges from him and jumps to me, suffusing me, the flames I just saw in his eyes lighting me like a match touched to gasoline.

I press into him, too, my breasts crushing against his hard chest, my legs parting so he can insert a knee between them, the evidence of his erection pushing into the soft flesh of my belly as my sex finds a home against his thigh, a bit of pressure to relieve the tension in its folds, in its core.

Leo’s the one who breaks away first this time. I’m gasping when he unsticks himself from me.

“Can I come see you later?” he asks.

Aside from the raspy voice, I have no idea how he can be functioning so clearly.

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