Page 82 of The Underboss's Secret Twins
I don’t want to think about the secret clawing at my insides, waiting to rip through my life like a blade.
I don’t want to think about the fact that the man I love is drowning in this world, and I don’t know if I can keep swimming beside him.
I just want to feel.
His lips leave mine, trailing along my jaw, down the column of my throat. His breath is hot, ragged, as he presses me harder against the wall, his body a solid, unyielding force against mine.
I tremble beneath his touch, my heart pounding so wildly it feels like he could pull it straight from my chest.
His fingers drift down my sides, slow, deliberate, and when his mouth finds the sensitive spot just below my ear, a quiet, helpless sound escapes me.
He exhales, low and uneven, like that noise sent a shiver down his spine, like he felt it as much as I did.
"Sofia," he murmurs, his voice raw. His forehead presses against mine, his hands tightening on my hips. "I don’t—" He cuts himself off, his breath shuddering against my lips.
I don’t know what he was about to say.
I don’t let him finish.
Because I don’t want words.
I don’t want promises.
I just wanthim.
I reach for him, fisting his shirt, pulling him back to me.
And when I kiss him again, I pour everything into it—every unsaid word, every fear, every shattered hope that we might make it through this.
His control snaps.
He lifts me effortlessly, his hands gripping my thighs, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me through the darkened halls of the estate, never breaking the kiss.
I melt into him, into the way he takes, into the way hegives—as if he already knows this might be our last time.
And when we reach his bedroom, when he kicks the door shut behind us and lowers me onto the bed with a reverence that makes my chest ache?—
I let myself forget everything but this.
21
SOFIA
Marco stands at the edge of the bed, his chest rising and falling in deep, controlled breaths, but his control is an illusion—I can see it in the way his hands flex at his sides, in the way his dark eyes rake over me, hungry and unrelenting.
I should feel powerful under his gaze, knowing I can undo a man like him with nothing but a look, but instead, I feel vulnerable.
Like I’ve already lost.
His hands find the hem of my dress, slow, deliberate. He lifts it, just enough for his fingers to graze my bare thighs. I shiver at the contact, my body too sensitive, too aware.
"You think I’m going to let you forget tonight,dolcezza?" he murmurs, voice thick with promise. "You think I’ll let you use me to drown everything out?"
I swallow, my breath hitching as his thumbs stroke slow circles into my skin.
"Marco…"
"Say it." He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, his breath sending a shudder straight through me. "Tell me what you need."
