Page 80 of Luciano

“Don’t stop,” I breathed. “Don’t even think about stopping.”

He slid one hand down, fingers teasing my pussy hole. When he pushed two inside, curling them as he caught my clit between his lips and tugged on it—

I lost it.

My thighs clamped around his head. My hands flew to his hair, yanking. My back arched off the bed.

“I’m close—fuck, baby, right there—don’t stop!” Cream started flowing out of me too fast for him to catch. I could feel it runningbetween my ass cheeks, wetting the bed. My Stomach clenched then my hole body warmed and spasmed.

Then—

BANG BANG BANG.

Three knocks. Hard. Fast. Interrupting the aftermath of my orgasm.

Luciano’s head lifted just barely. His mouth was soaked. His jaw tight. He looked like he wasn’t sure if he should be grabbing his gun or going back down on me.

BANG BANG BANG.

My chest was rising and falling, I breathless and felt shaky.

“You finish?” he asked, hand already reaching for the pistol on the dresser.

I nodded. “Yes.”

BANG BANG BANG.

Whoever it was really wanted to speak to one of us.

“Fuck,” he muttered.

He stood, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, but didn’t look away.

“Go answer the door. It could be important.”

Luciano grabbed his gun off the nightstand, checking the magazine, his trigger finger tapping the trigger.

He left the room without a look back.

I stayed there for a second—spread out, flushed, legs still twitching. Trying to catch my breath.

When I composed myself, I yanked the robe closed, tied it tight, and followed him downstairs barefoot. Didn’t even bother wiping between my thighs. I could still feel him on me.

The second I reached the bottom of the stairs, I heard Saint.

“The Russos… killed a bunch of our men.”

My body went still.

The front door was only cracked open wide enough to speak through. I could see his jaw was tight as hell. Saint stood just outside, hoodie damp, covering half his face.

Luciano didn’t speak.

“Hit two spots at once,” Saint continued. “Warehouse on Ninth. One of the safehouses in Oak Creek. Five dead, maybe more…”

Luciano opened the door wider. “How long ago?”

“Hour and a half, maybe less. I came straight from the scene. Your father said come home now.”

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