Page 68 of Forbidden Vengeance

“Your independence?” He stalks closer until he’s only inches from me. “And what about our safety? What about the baby?”

“Don’t you dare use her against me,” I snarl, jabbing a finger into his chest. “I’ve been protecting her since before you even knew she existed.”

“Protecting her?” His eyes flash dangerously. “By walking straight into Anthony’s trap? By carrying evidence that could get you killed or imprisoned?”

“I had it under control!” I shout.

“Undercontrol?” He grabs my shoulders, fingers digging in almost painfully. “He had you cornered! If I hadn’t?—”

“If you hadn’t what?” I wrench away from his grip. “Come charging in like a bull in a china shop? I handled it! I got the evidence to Murphy, I made the connection with Siobhan?—”

“You gotlucky!” The words explode from him. “One wrong move and you’d be in Anthony’s hands right now. Or dead. Is that what you want?”

“What I want,” I say through gritted teeth, “is to not be treated like some fragile thing that needs to be locked away! I’m stillme, Mario. Still the woman who’s been playing this game since before you noticed me.”

“And what happens when the game gets you killed?” His voice cracks slightly, revealing the fear beneath his rage. “When Anthony decides you’re more trouble than you’re worth?”

“That’s not—” I start to say, but Mario cuts me off.

“I can’t lose you!” The words tear from him like they’re being ripped from his chest. “Eitherof you. Don’t you understand that?”

We stare at each other, both breathing hard. The anger still crackles between us, but something else too.

“I won’t be caged,” I say finally, my voice softer but no less firm. “Not even by you.”

“And I won’t watch you die because you’re too stubborn to let me protect you.” He backs me up into the wall.

My breath is shallow, my chest rising and falling against his. Mario’s hands grip my waist, pulling me closer, as if touching me is the only thing keeping him grounded. I can feel the heat of his body, the tension that radiates from him—an electric pulse that matches my own racing heart.

The confrontation with Anthony, the gunfire, the way we nearly lost everything…it leaves me raw, desperate, like I can’t breathe until I knowhe’sokay.

I don’t think. I don’t hesitate. My body moves of its own accord, driven by the ache deep inside me, the need tofeelhim, to confirm we’re both still here. I lean forward, pressing myself against him, and capture his lips in a heated kiss. It’s urgent, allteeth and fire, as if we can erase the fear, the chaos, through this touch.

His mouth is on mine almost violently, and I meet him with equal desperation. There’s no sweetness in it—just raw, unrestrained need, as if we’re trying to anchor ourselves in each other. His hands slide over my body, rough and possessive, claiming every inch of me, making sure I’m real, making sure I’m here, safe.

“I need you,” he growls against my neck, his voice ragged. His words send a shiver through me, igniting something deep inside. I can feel it—he needs mejust as much as I need him. My hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss, matching his urgency. His leg rests between my legs and my body arches in response when it brushes against my heated core.

We don’t wait. There’s no gentleness, no softness—just the frantic need to hold onto each other, to assure ourselves that we’re alive, that we survived this. He presses me harder against the wall, his body a furnace against mine.

I can feel his pulse, fast and frantic, matching my own. The world outside doesn’t exist in this moment. Only him. Only us.

Our mouths clash again, forceful and claiming, as if we’re trying to erase the weight of everything that’s happened. Every desperate kiss, every possessive touch, is a promise to survive, to stay together. To fight for each other.

Mario’s hands slide up my body to plunge underneath the silk blouse, grasping my breast, his thumb flicking over my peaked nipple. I gasp, arching into his touch.

He works my breasts, his fingers kneading them softly until I grind my hips against the leg that is still in between mine. Mario growls and presses his body flush against mine, the hard length of him pressing into my stomach. I try to move my hand in between us to touch him through his pants, but he grabs my wrists and pins them over my head.

“I don’t think so,” he murmurs into my collarbone. He uses one of his hands to continue to pin my wrists while the other pulls my skirt up to my hips. He moves my hands down to grip my skirt as he kneels down before me, hands on both of my thighs.

With a wink at me, he spreads my legs and licks me.

A low moan rips from my chest at the feeling of his tongue against my heat. He circles the apex of my thighs, his teeth scraping slightly and huffs a laugh against me when my hips buck and yet another moan escapes me.

“I’ll never get sick of hearing you make those noises,” he says before continuing.

My fingers grip his hair as his tongue works me in long strokes. He slips a finger into me and I whimper, biting my lip in an effort to be quiet. He adds a second finger and I feel the heat pooling in my stomach, begging for release. I grip his hair harder when his fingers begin pumping faster inside me, sensing how close I am.

Mario sucks my clit and I look down at him on his knees before me. The sight of him undoes me and I arch off the wall as my orgasm rocks through me, my legs quivering.

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