Page 73 of Double Trouble for the Mafia Prince
But I am.
I’m gone.
My breath staggers every time she hollows her cheeks and slides back down, every time her tongue flicks against the underside of me like she knows exactly how I like it.
She builds me up slowly.
And when she senses me getting close, she pulls back just enough to speak, her lips slick, her voice pure heat.
"You want to come in my mouth?"
My response is a growl.
She grins and takes me deep again, bobbing faster now, twisting her wrist in time with the motion of her throat.
I feel it rising, sharp and electric, crawling up my spine like lightning.
I try to warn her, but she’s not stopping.
And when I come, I swear the world goes white behind my eyes.
I spill down her throat, jaw clenched, hands fisted in her hair as I moan her name like it’s the only damn word I remember.
She swallows every last drop.
Then she pulls back, wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, and leans over me, flushed and smiling like she just won a war neither of us meant to start.
"Next time," she whispers, lips brushing my jaw, "you don’t get to run first."
And somehow, even in this mess, all I want is more.
I grip her waist and flip her over, hooking her bra off and tossing it aside.
She gasps, more surprised than afraid, and it fuels every wicked instinct I’ve kept buried for five years.
I look down at her, at those lips parted in shock, her chest rising fast, the glint of heat returning to her eyes.
"You started this," I growl, voice rough with want. "Now let me finish it."
13
GIANNA
His weight presses into me before I can think, before I can catch my breath.
There’s no hesitation in his hands now.
No doubt.
He’s hungry, possessive, nearly feral, and I should care, I should resist—I should remind myself why we’re here in the first place.
I arch into him instead.
His mouth crashes down on mine, hot and deep and unrelenting, and the taste of myself on his tongue makes my body clench.
He kisses like a man trying to memorize me.
Not sweet or tender, but claiming.
