Page 69 of The Mafia's Second Shot

“You’ve been taking care of me all week,” she says, her voice low. “Let me take care of you tonight.”

Her words send a jolt through me, the air between us growing heavier. I brush a strand of hair from her face, my hand lingering against her cheek. “You don’t have to?—”

“I want to,” she interrupts, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “You’re not getting out of this.”

Her confidence is magnetic, and I find myself leaning into her touch, my chest tightening with a mix of desire and gratitude. “Okay,” I murmur. “Lead the way.”

As we move backto the bedroom, the world outside fades away, leaving only us. The room glows with candlelight, the soft flicker reflecting in her eyes as she steps closer, her hands resting on my chest.

“You’ve given me so much,” she whispers, her voice trembling slightly. “Let me show you how much you mean to me.”

I don’t answer with words. Instead, I capture her lips with mine, the kiss slow and deliberate, filled with the promise of everything we’ve fought for. Her hands slide up my shoulders, her touch igniting a fire that’s been simmering beneath the surface all night.

As we lose ourselves in each other, I feel the weight of the past slipping away, replaced by something stronger—something built on trust, love, and the unwavering belief that we deserve this happiness.

49

ZOE

The room feels alive with warmth, the soft flicker of candlelight casting golden hues on the walls. Cooper’s hand rests lightly on my waist as he pulls me closer, his touch firm but tender. The quiet hum of the city outside is muffled, as though the world has shrunk to just the two of us.

“Zoey,” he murmurs, his voice low, the sound of it sending a shiver down my spine.

I look up at him, his face inches from mine, his expression raw and open in a way that makes my chest ache. This isn’t just a celebration—it’s a moment we’ve been building toward, one where the weight of the past no longer feels so heavy. For the first time, I let myself believe that this moment, this life we’re creating, is real.

He leans in,brushing his lips against mine in a kiss that starts slow, almost hesitant. But as I press closer, my hands sliding up his chest, it deepens, the tension that’s been simmering between us spilling over. His hand moves to the small of my back, pullingme flush against him, and I can feel the steady beat of his heart against mine.

“You’ve been holding back,” I whisper, breaking the kiss just long enough to meet his gaze. “Why?”

He hesitates, his thumb brushing lightly along my jaw. “Because I didn’t want to rush you.”

I smile, leaning into his touch. “You’re not rushing me. I want this. I want you.”

The words seem to break something loose in him. He captures my lips again, this time with more urgency, more heat. His hands roam, sliding up my sides and down my back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, as though the space between us is unbearable.

He lifts me effortlessly,his strength both thrilling and comforting as he carries me to the bed. The candles flicker, their light dancing across his face as he lowers me onto the soft sheets. For a moment, he just looks at me, his gaze tracing every inch of my face as though he’s memorizing it.

“You’re beautiful,” he says softly, the sincerity in his voice stealing my breath.

I reach for him, pulling him down until his weight presses against me, grounding me in a way nothing else can. His lips trail down my neck, his breath warm against my skin, and I arch into him, my body responding to his every touch.

Every movement feels deliberate,every kiss and caress an unspoken promise. His hands slide under the hem of my shirt, the rough pads of his fingers sending sparks skittering acrossmy skin. I gasp as he pulls the fabric over my head, his eyes darkening as he takes me in.

“Zoey,” he murmurs again, his voice rough with emotion. “I?—”

“Don’t stop,” I interrupt, my hands moving to the buttons of his shirt. “Just don’t stop.”

He smiles faintly, his hands covering mine as he helps me strip away the barrier between us. The heat of his skin against mine is intoxicating, the intensity of his gaze making my heart race. As his lips return to mine, I feel the last of my doubts and fears melt away, replaced by a desire so raw it leaves me breathless.

Time blursas we lose ourselves in each other, every touch and kiss drawing us closer. His vulnerability is palpable, each whispered word and gentle movement a reminder of how far we’ve come. He’s gentle but passionate, his hands mapping every inch of my body as though he’s discovering me for the first time.

I let myself surrender completely, my hands exploring the planes of his back, the strength in his arms, the curve of his jaw. It’s not just physical—it’s everything we’ve fought for, everything we’ve overcome, distilled into this one moment.

“Look at me,”he whispers, his voice rough but steady.

I do, my breath catching at the depth of emotion in his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere,” I say softly, my voice trembling with the weight of the promise.

He presses his forehead to mine, his breath warm against my skin. “Neither am I.”

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