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“Piccola,” he growled against my mouth. “Amore mio.”

I pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. “Give me everything.”

He grinned then—that rare, dangerous flash of white teeth that always made my knees weak. "You asked for it," he said, voice dark with promise.

He came down over me, mouth hot anddesperate, hands greedy as he stripped away my dress in one rough pull. The cool air hit my skin, and I gasped, but it was swallowed by his mouth. He kissed me like he wanted to memorize every sound I made.

I clawed at his shirt, frustrated by the buttons, and he chuckled against my throat, low and dirty, before yanking it off over his head. I let my hands roam — broad shoulders, scarred ribs, the sharp planes of his hips. My fingertips brushed the tattoo by his heart — the line of script.

This wasn’t tender lovemaking. This was desperate and rough. Our teeth clashed as we struggled to kiss harder, my fingers scrabbling against him as he battered into me. I was slick with want, but he wasn’t small. Still, the stretch and pinch of his cock drove the orgasm through me so brilliantly that I screamed wordlessly into his shoulder as I came, my nails scraping along his skin as his hips drove into me.

“That’s it,piccola, give it to me. Again.Damnit. Again.” He ground out as he tweaked my nipples. “I want it all.”

“Don’t hold back. I want you to come.” I clamped around his cock, enjoying the ecstasy that took over his face as he pistoned in and out of my body, that feeling of him gliding in and out making my eyes roll back.

He narrowed his eyes at me, and pulled out his cock glistening. “Not yet. I want to savor it. Roll over,piccola. Lay flat.”

He stroked himself while I did as he said, and even as I laughed, he adjusted a pillow under my hips. “You look so pretty like this. That ass of yours wants me to do naughty things to it.” Calloused fingers caressed my skin before they dipped down to slide into my pussy. He leaned over me, his lips nipping at the skin on my spine, sucking the tender flesh into his mouth while his fingers continued to thrust and and tease. “I love your skin. Have I told you that?”

I squirmed, trying to thrust against his fingers, only to whine when they disappeared. “Wait,” I protested.

“Don’t you worry, baby.” The velvety tip of his cock notched to my slit. “I’m going totake care of you right now. Take care of both of us. I’m going to come in this pretty pussy of yours, and then I’m going to start all over again. You’re going to stay just like this.”

“I will?”

“Yes. I’m going to fill you up.” He gave me a light slap on the thigh as he shoved into me. His fingers moved to my clit. The sheets on my nipples and the sting against my skin made sensations bloom through my body. “That’s it,piccola. Do you like that? You seem extra wet.” He pulled back out and then rammed in again. “Are you my naughty girl?”

My voice was muffled against the sheets, but I managed to whimper out a barely audible. “God. Please.” He gave me another slap, harder this time, enhancing everything, and I wanted to rub myself against the sheet to give even more friction.

“Not God.Angelo. Say it.” He gave my ass cheek another small slap and I came apart on a cry, desperate and needy just before he jerked and came hard, pumping into me, gripping my hips hard as liquid heat spread into me.

Collapsing in a messy heap, he pressed one hand over my belly as he rolled me overbefore he kissed my temple. “Give me a minute of recovery.”

“That’s right, you’re getting old,” I teased.

Later, tangled together under the soft, rumpled sheets, Angelo brushed his thumb over the ring on my finger.

"You sure you want this?" he murmured, voice rough with exhaustion and something heavier underneath.

I twisted to face him completely, my heart overflowing. "You’re an overprotective, infuriating, brooding mafia boss who ruins my plans and steals all the covers," I said solemnly. "And I love you more than anyone or anything. Yes, I want it all.”

He blinked. Then, slowly, a genuine smile blossomed across his face. "You’re trouble," he said, brushing my hair back. “I’m so glad you’re mine.”

"Always," I whispered.

He kissed me again, slow and deep, like a vow.

And somewhere deep inside, I made my own vow back.

No matter what came next — wars, betrayals, ghosts from the past — we were a team now.

And God help anyone who tried to get between us.

CHAPTER 36

ANGELO

The night airin Naples was heavy with the scent of salt and diesel, a thick balm that clung to my skin as we stepped off the private jet. Lights glittered along the harbor, but beneath the postcard perfection was a rot we’d all tasted.