Page 83 of Mafia and Scars

The weight and heat of his palm inching toward my ache is possessive and mind-fogging. But it’s his eyes—hungry and reverent—that make me feel like I’ll unravel the moment he touches me where I need him most.

“Viktor...” His name escapes as a needy plea.

The brush of his finger against my core makes my muscles tighten, a gasp tearing from my throat. Each caress winds me tighter. Nothing has ever felt more right than this moment.

His finger traces the wet spot on my panties, and I gasp against his mouth as he claims it hungrily.

“You’re so wet,” he groans, fingers brushing the damp fabric repeatedly. “Shit, Avelina...soaked through,all for me.”

I want to respond, but any words die as he pushes aside the soaked fabric. A needy moan fills the air instead.

I settle deeper into his lap as one finger sinks slowly into me. Pleasure sparks through my whole body as his lips press kisses onto my skin, his finger pumping steadily. A second finger joins in, stretching me more, and my eyes drift closed.

“No, look at me,” he demands, his commanding tone sending shivers through me.

It shouldn’t be that hot.But God, it is.

I lift heavy lids to meet his gaze.

“Good girl,” he whispers before claiming my lips again. His tongue tastes and devours me. “Such a fucking good girl. I want you to remember who did this to you. Who made you come.”

I moan my understanding.

“Tell me,” he commands.

“You,” I manage, voice strangled as his fingers work faster. The wet sounds fill the space between us. His thumb rubs my clit in tighter circles, driving me higher.

His movements speed up, guiding me to the edge. I need just a little more…

His thumb swipes my clit again, his touch rougher now.

“Please, Viktor…”

“Let go. I’ve got you.”

My muscles tighten around his fingers as he presses just right. And I crash over the edge harder than ever before. The coil in my stomach springs apart as he lazily draws out my release.

He smiles—that devastating half-smile—as he withdraws his fingers. And when he settles me back on his lap, his hardness hits my over-sensitized body just right, making me moan.

“Viktor,” I gasp.

“Tell me to stop...”

But I don’t want him to stop. We’re in a communal space.It’sreckless.But being with him makes me want to abandon common sense entirely.

My hips roll against him, earning another low sound from his throat.

“I need you, Viktor.”

His fingers work his belt buckle. He frees himself, dragging his tip through my folds until I shudder and see stars.

He lifts me, guiding me to kneel over him before producing a condom from his back pocket. Smiling, I pluck it from his fingers, carefully opening it and rolling it onto his hard length. I pump once, twice, before lining him up.

His hands tug my neckline down, exposing the lace of my bra. He brings the fabric to his mouth, tongue working the hardened peak. A low moan escapes us both as I sink down onto him.

Maybe it’s the possibility of being caught that makes this hotter. It’s not like Viktor to be reckless. And I love that I turn him into this.

His hands settle on my hips as he bucks up to meet every thrust. When he hits that perfect spot inside me, I can’t contain the strangled sound that tears from my throat. It’s too loud. Everyone will know. But I don’t care.