Page 50 of Mafia Kingdom

"Since the first time I saw you," I admit, trailing my fingers along the curve of her waist. "You were too good for someone like me. You still are."

She reaches up, tracing the tattoo that covers my chest, her touch feather-light but searing. "Let me decide what's good for me."

I cover her hand with mine, pressing it flat against my heart. "I've kept my distance because everything I touch eventually breaks, Sasha. I didn't want to break you too."

"I'm stronger than you think," she whispers, pulling me down to her.

I take my time, determined to worship her inch by inch, to carve the feel of her into my memory. Years of wanting, of imagining, and yet nothing could have prepared me for the reality of her—her scent, rich and intoxicating, the taste of her skin beneath my lips, the heat of her searing into me like a brand.

"Marco," she gasps, my name a breathless plea as I map her with my hands and mouth, learning her, unraveling her. I watch the way she moves beneath me, every shift and arch of her body speaking of surrender. She’s undone, trembling, and I am the one who has reduced her to this—a thought so darkly satisfying it tightens the heat coiling low in my stomach.

I sit back on my knees, my eyes devouring the sight of her flushed, needy body sprawled before me. My fingers work at the buttons of my shirt, each one slipping free with agonizing slowness, my gaze never leaving hers. Sasha’s chest rises and falls in anticipation, her pupils blown wide, lips slightly parted as she watches me undress. I shrug the fabric from my shoulders, letting it drop carelessly to the floor before reaching for my belt. The soft clink of metal fills the space between us as I slide it free, the rasp of my zipper the only warning before I push my pants down, along with my briefs, freeing my aching cock.

Her breath hitches. Her eyes flicker downward, darkening with something raw, something unfiltered. I wrap my hand around myself, stroking slowly, deliberately, letting her see justhow much I want her, how much I’ve craved this moment. A soft, desperate whimper escapes her lips, and it’s all the encouragement I need.

I move over her again, trailing my lips down her stomach, reveling in the way her muscles tense beneath my mouth. My fingers slide between her thighs, parting her slick heat, teasing, tormenting. She bucks against my hand, her body begging without words, and I give in to the temptation of tasting her, dragging my tongue through the evidence of her arousal. She gasps, her hands fisting the sheets, her body trembling as I take my time, learning what makes her cry out, what makes her body tighten like a bowstring.

When I finally rise above her, positioning myself at her entrance, I hesitate. My cock throbs against her heat, the sensation enough to send a shudder through me. Her hands frame my face, fingers tracing the sharp lines of my jaw, grounding me in this moment. "Please," she whispers, her voice wrecked with need.

With a slow, measured thrust, I push into her, inch by inch, stretching her, filling her. A ragged groan tears from my throat as she clenches around me, her body tight, hot, perfect. I still, my forehead pressing against hers, jaw clenched as I fight for control, fight against the primal urge to take her hard and fast. Her nails dig into my shoulders, urging me forward, deeper, and I give in, burying myself fully inside her.

A sharp gasp escapes her, her back arching, legs tightening around me, pulling me impossibly closer. I move, slow at first, savoring every inch, every reaction. She moves with me, her body molding to mine in a rhythm that feels inevitable, like coming home to something I didn’t know I was missing. The sounds she makes, the way she clings to me, undoes me piece by piece.

I watch her—head thrown back, lips parted, eyes glazed with pleasure. She’s breathtaking. Ruined for me. And I need more.

"Look at me," I command, my voice dark, rough. I can feel the warm blood still dripping from my brow, and I brush it away with the back of my head.

Her eyes flutter open, locking onto mine. I pump harder and faster, and I’m aching to watch her come.

And then she shatters. Her body tightens around me, her cry breaking through the air like a prayer, allowing me to unleash all the want I’ve ever had. Her body jerks with every stroke; she continues to cry out. I feel my release pour inside her with each thrust into her pussy I empty myself.

Afterward, we collapse in a tangled mess of limbs and sweat, her body pressed against mine, her head rising and falling with each heavy breath I take. I thread my fingers through her hair, tracing lazy circles against her bare shoulder, feeling something unfamiliar settle deep in my chest.

Peace.

A feeling I haven’t known in years—maybe ever.

Once our breathing settles, Sasha turns so she’s looking up at me.

"This changes nothing," she says, but there's no conviction in her voice.

For me, it changes everything.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Marco

DAWN HASN'T BROKEN yet, but I'm already awake, watching the soft rise and fall of Sasha's chest beside me. Her dark hair spills across the white pillow, one arm tucked beneath her cheek, looking impossibly peaceful. Nothing like the fiery woman who matched me stroke for stroke last night, who took everything I gave her and demanded more.

I shouldn't have touched her. I've spent years keeping my distance for a reason. Women like Sasha—good women, pure women—they don't belong in my world. But now that I've had her, I can't imagine letting her go. The thought sits heavy in my chest, too close to fear for comfort.

My phone vibrates on the nightstand. I silence it quickly before the sound can wake her, slipping out of bed with practiced stealth. The screen displays Mikey's number—my best informant, the one I've had watching Lucas. A call at this hour means trouble.

I glance back at Sasha once more, sleeping soundly in my bed, and feel something tighten inside me. Something dangerous. Something that feels too much like weakness.

I step into the hallway to return the call, keeping my voice low. "What do you have?"

"You need to see this." Mikey's voice is tense. "In person. Now."

---