Page 66 of That Time I Accidentally Took Over the Mafia

He doesn’t look back or slow his pace. But I’m done being the one to always back off.

I catch up to him in the hallway and grab his arm.

He spins around too quickly, and before I know it, I’m slammed against the wall. His chest is pressed against mine, his breath coming in sharp bursts, his eyes stormy with emotion. The tension between us crackles, a mix of frustration, longing, and something I can’t quite name.

“What do you want from me?” he yells, his voice breaking.

“You! All I want is you.” The words burst out of my throat, heavy and suffocating.

His body stills for a moment, as if he’s holding back. And then something changes. Something inside him snaps, and without warning, his lips crash against mine. It’s a kiss that feels like the world is collapsing around us, an overwhelming rush of heat and need. It’s raw, desperate—like he’s finally letting go of everything he’s been holding inside.

I melt against him, my hands instinctively moving to his chest, feeling the heat of his body under my fingertips. His lips are insistent, pushing against mine with a fierce urgency, as if he’s trying to say everything he can’t put into words. His hands slip around my waist, pulling me closer, and the kiss deepens,consuming me. I match the intensity of his kiss, my own body reacting, responding to his every movement.

The taste of him is intoxicating—rich, urgent, and so hauntingly familiar it makes my heart ache. His tongue brushes against mine, and I can feel the weight of everything between us—the years of distance, the unresolved pain, the unspoken words. It all builds, a simmering storm that’s finally breaking free.

My chest heaves, my pulse racing as I press myself even closer to him. I can feel the tension in his body, the way he’s fighting to keep control, but I don’t want him to. I want to feel everything. I want to feel him. I want to break down every barrier he’s built and finally reach the man beneath the anger and the distance.

His hand grabs my throat, and his desperation moves from my mouth to my neck and collarbone. “This is what you want, Len?” His voice is deep, raspy, and full of need.

“Yes.” My answer is just as desperate. More. I need more.

He sucks and nips at me, pinned to the wall by his body, and presses his knee between my legs, confining me more. “You want me to take you right here in the fucking hallway?”

My hands are all over him, pulling at his hair and holding onto him, afraid he’ll pull away.

He strikes out quickly, snatching both my wrists and pinning them above me. “Bury my cock in you?”

“Yes, Luca.”

His pupils are blown wide, the black nearly consuming the rich blue. He unbuttons my pants and shoves his hand into my panties, finding me soaked. “Of course, you’re fucking wet.” He licks up the column of my neck, and I gasp when he shoves two fingers into me, thrusting hard and palming my clit. “Because all you want is to complete your collection. Is that it?”

Confusion and pleasure collide within me, and I can’t speak as he consumes me.

“You fucked the two of them, and now you only need me to get you off too.” He kisses me hard, our teeth colliding. The taste of blood mingles with the fire coming off him, but it’s not passion. It’s just anger. It’s not what I want.

“Luca.” I gasp, pulling back from him.

“You wanted this; I’ll fucking give it to you.” He works my pussy with his fingers, and I can’t stop the reaction of my body to his touch. I’ve starved for it, but I feel out of control. He feels out of control.

“No, Luca.” I try to pull my hands down, but he tightens his iron grip. “Stop!” I push against him with my body, but his mouth is on mine again, silencing me with another bruising kiss. Tears well in my eyes as I fight against the orgasm that is betraying me. I don’t want him like this. This is not Luca.

It’s not my Luca.

He’s shaking, his muscles so tense like he’s still fighting against something. So, I stop fighting. I force myself to relax. I steel my face to a neutral expression as tears streak my cheeks.

“No, Luca.” My quiet command breaks whatever possession took him over. “Not like this. Please.” My chin quivers on the last word, and he blinks, like a fog clears from him. He yanks himself back from me as if touching me burns him, putting his back to the other side of the hall.

Horror drenches him, and he looks at his hand as if it doesn’t belong to him, then looks back at me.

“Luca.” I put my hands out in front of me, but they are shaking. I take a half step toward him, and he stumbles back, farther away from me. “Tell me how to reach you.” I whisper my plea.

“J–Just,” he chokes on his emotions as they pour out of him. Tears glisten in his eyes, and I can finally see past the façade his anger gives him.

It’s loathing. For himself.

He—he hates himself.

“Just don’t.”

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