Page 81 of Made to Sin

But when she looked at me with that innocent expression and asked how my day went, she might as well have told me to beg, and I would have. I didn’t care anymore if she was ready. Lust was a bitch to deal with, but it had won.

Her ass was right in front of my face, and it looked so pretty, I had to know how it felt in my hands. Once I started, I couldn’t find the will to stop. Not because of how round and soft it was,but because she liked it.

She liked to be spanked and tormented into submission. Katarina was dirty, and that shit turned me on.

Then, she let me fuck her.

She might have goaded me into it, but I didn’t give a shit. The woman thought I didn’t want her. Any man would have to be blind not to want her. Though the thought of any other man having her brought a possessive heat to my chest. She was mine, and only I could have her. I made it abundantly clear when I came inside that sweet pussy of hers.

I had never had sex without a condom in my life, but I didn’t even think about it when it came to her. The feeling of her clenching around me was enough to tell me I didn’t need one.

All this time, I thought Marco had to have fucked her at least once, but no. He was a fool who took what he had for granted and screwed other women instead. Well, I had to thank him because he left every perfect bit of her for me.

I tried to go slow, give it to her nice and easy for her first time, but fucking her raw unleashed a monster that I’d kept tucked away. I couldn’t resist, and my control completely went out the window when I watched her ass shake as she took me deep inside her.

So I fucked her as I promised her: to get her out of my system— minus the getting her out part. If anything, she was permanently settled in my system after yesterday.

She was so perfect, a part of me despised her for it. I didn’t dabble in drugs but saw why addicts couldn’t stop. If anyone told me I couldn’t have her anymore, they could meet me in Hell.

I hadn’t lied yesterday when I said she was made for me.

Made to make me break down the twenty-nine years of impenetrable walls I’d put up.

She became the first person who had ever made me snap. It wasn’t the first time, and I could tell it wasn’t the last. It explained why I was still in bed when it was eight a.m. in the morningwith her quiet snores ricocheting off my chest.

Similar to the condom shit, I haven’t had sex with any other woman in my house, let alone let them sleep in my bed. Yet when she wanted to get up, something visceral told me to pull her back.

It was the best sleep I’d gotten in years.

I looked down at her, admiring her features— her small button nose, the scar on her left brow, her curled fists against her heart. What I would pay to wake up to the sight of it every morning.

A devious thought ran through my mind of making her my wife. Technically, she lived in my house, and we had great sex. Marriage wouldn’t be too far off.

Fuck, she was making me more psychopathic than I already was. I shook my head, ridding the rash decision before I acted on it.

Inarguably, I needed a distraction from her, the current distraction.

The fibers in my body protested, but I pushed off the warmth of the bed and got up.

—

“It’s been three months, are you waiting to visit my deathbed, Luciano?” Tori’s croaky voice greeted me as I entered her room.

I held up the sunflowers I’d gotten for her. “I come in peace.”

“Not with that gun in your pants, you’re not.”

A small smile pulled on my lips as I gave Tori a quick hug and went to replace the wrinkled, droopy flowers on her bedside table. I knew this was the place to go whenever I needed a breather from theCosa Nostra.

After a pitstop at the cemetery to fulfill my annual duties as a son for my father, work was the last thing I wanted to do. Don’t get me wrong, I could never imagine my life without the mob, but sometimes, it sucked the life out of a person.

Today was one of those days.

“So what’s the occasion?” Tori pried.

I lifted a brow. “Do I need an occasion to come visit you?”

“With those wrinkles in the middle of your forehead, yes. What’s wrong, my dear?”

---