Page 40 of Mob Boss's Second Chance

I bite down on my lip hard enough to draw blood as he stretches me. It hurts—it does—but the burn is temporary and exquisite. When he moves again, I’m jolted forward, pressed down, and pushed on.

He reaches down and presses kisses to my back while driving into me with fast, deep strokes that reach places I didn’t know existed. Every inch of my body screams, folds, unfolds, and shudders. I take it—lost in the smoldering desire that wounds tight, pushing me close to the edge.

I cry out, breaking my hands free when his thumb dips low again, circling my clit until I’m heaving with uncontrollable pleasure, my body shaking violently as the tension finally snaps.

A guttural cry escapes my lips as waves of ecstasy crash over me, each pulse leaving me trembling and undone beneath him.

His grip on my hips tightens, anchoring me as he drives deeper, his movements relentless and fueled by his own need. The sounds of skin meeting skin fill the room, raw and primal, as he chases his release.

“Ethan,” I gasp, my voice shaky, barely able to form coherent words.

He leans down, his chest pressing against my back, and I feel his breath hot against my ear. “I’ve got you,” he rasps, his voice thick with desire and control.

With a few more powerful thrusts, his body tenses, and I feel him shudder, groaning deeply as he finds his release. His grip softens, his body collapsing against mine as he struggles to catch his breath.

The room is silent except for the sound of our heavy breathing, the weight of what just happened settling over us. His hands trail gently over my back, soothing the places where his grip had been firm, and I close my eyes, feeling utterly spent and raw.

“Are you okay?” he finally murmurs, his voice softer now, filled with a tenderness that catches me off guard.

I nod, unable to speak yet, my body still trembling from the intensity of it all. He presses a kiss to my shoulder, and for a fleeting moment, I let myself sink into the warmth of his touch, even as my mind spins with the implications of what we just did.

Then he moves away, leaving me to crumble down to the floor. I’m back torealityas I know it—the cold, unfriendly office and the man who owns it.

What have I done?

I had sex with Ethan Cross.

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath as I stagger to my feet, searching around for my clothes. I see the broken dishes in the corner, but I can’t bring myself to care about them yet.

Shrugging my pants, I stuff my panties in my pocket and reach for my shirt and my apron. Trying to maintain some sanity, I turn to him. His expression resembles regret, and it sparks embarrassment in me.

What must he think?

He accused me of being a spy, kissed me, and then we ended up here, tangled in something I can’t even begin to unpack.

“Natalie—” Ethan starts, but I’m already shaking my head, cutting him off before he can finish.

“It’s fine,” I say, forcing a tight smile onto my face. “Really. It doesn’t mean anything.” The words taste bitter, but I push them out anyway. “I’m just glad we’ve cleared things up. You know now that I’m not a spy.”

Does he?

The thought crashes over me like a wave, cold and unrelenting. For all I know, he might be even more convinced now. Sleeping with himmight look like the ultimate distraction tactic, an elaborate ploy to throw suspicion off myself.

The more I think about it, the more plausible it sounds. The hurried way I gave in. The vulnerability I showed. Bent over his desk as if I’d do anything to escape the weight of his accusations.

I swallow hard and glance at him, his regret more visible now. God,I wish the floor would open and save me this moment.

“I’ll come back for the…” I swallow again, pointing to the mess. “That.”

I’m out of his office in seconds, slamming the door behind me. I place a hand on my chest, exhaling heavily.

“What have you done, Natalie Monroe?” I wail.

Chapter Twelve

Ethan

What have I done?

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