Page 41 of Made to Sin

My heart raced.

When he didn’t push me away, I grew bolder, running my palms down his chest. The muscular grooves and crevices were even better when I was sober.

He let me be in control for another second before he tookover. He kissed how I imagined he would, every press and lick screaming under his dominance. It was unrelenting, it was angry, it was so very sinister.

Despite the intense nature of the kiss, his lips were strangely soft against mine. It was a paradox my brain couldn’t wrap around, and that made it much more addictive.

Pulling away for air, he continued his trail of kisses down my jaw and onto my neck. My body sang to him like a harp, desperate for every bite he intertwined in between. I was so on edge, so needy for him, I couldn’t control the series of moans that came out.

“Fuck, Katarina, those noises,” he rasped against my neck.

His deep voice was so sexy, it brought up another uncensored sound from me. As a half-hearted punishment, he nipped at my sensitive spot. Opposed to making me stop, the primal action sent a wave of desire down my core, dampening the thong I wore.

It was embarrassing how wet I became from kissing, but I wasn’t the only one aroused. Luciano’s hard erection poked at my stomach and announced its presence.

I reached my hand between us to try and hold him. Though before I could, he let a stingy slap on my ass and swallowed my moan of protest. My nipples tightened at the revelation that he does like to spank in bed.

I tried again, desperate to touch him. Just as I managed to graze his length, he maneuvered us so that I was bent over the bar with his front up against my back.

I stared at my reflection on the counter, seeing how delirious I was for him. My makeup was slightly smeared, my hair was messy, and I had a glazed look in my eyes.

Would we make out until our lips were swollen? Would we take it further? My core throbbed in anticipation.

But we didn’t do either.

Instead, he hoarsely gritted out, “We need to stop, Katarina.”

“What? Why? I don’t want to,” I confusedly said, voiceequally as hoarse from the sounds I’d been making.

He cursed under his breath before removing his body from mine to create distance. “You are the wife of another don, Katarina. You need to leave, and this can’t happen again.”

I should have left before he had a chance to explain. The shitty excuse made the situation even worse. He knew Marco didn’t love or respect me, yet he mentioned it as if it mattered.

The whiplash from his jarring switch-up threw me off-balance. Various emotions flooded to the forefront, but I couldn’t distinguish anything other than the clench in my heart. I stood and straightened myself too.

“Go to Hell, Luciano,” I bitterly spat.

I didn’t know what I was thinking to kiss him. I didn’t know why I came here for answers in the first place. I didn’t know anything except that I needed to leave.

He called after me, but I didn’t look back. Couldn’t look back. It was already shameful to be left once by him. It was absolutely degrading to let it happen twice.

I wasn’t one of the women who pined after him, so if he thought he could treat me like this and expect me to come crawling for more, he could hold his breath.

This man was nothing right and everything wrong for me. From now on, I was going to avoid him like the plague. It wasn’t like I particularly liked him anyway, but in the case that I forgot, I prayed someone threw a shoe at my head.

“MAMMA,WHAT’SGOINGON?"

My tiny fists attempted to rub the sleepiness from my eyes. At six years old, I didn’t understand why Mamma was waking me up in the middle of the night. She said sleep made me prettier and pleaded with me to sleep.

To make it worse, she had tears streaming down her face, each droplet falling onto my pink princess comforter. I frowned. Papà was going to get mad at me if he thought I wet the bed again.

Bringing my short attention span back to her by cradling my head, Mamma whispered, “I love you, my beautiful Katarina. Never forget how much I love you.”

I nodded, still confused about why she woke me up to say this. Mamma always told me she loved me, so this was nothing new. Couldn’t she do it tomorrow? And why was she crying?

I was too tired to ask, letting her silently cry and squeeze my hand as long as she wished. With nothing else to do, I looked around my room for toys I could play with in the morning.

I noticed a suitcase propped up by the door. Were we going on a trip? I loved going on trips!

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