Page 22 of Mafia Scars

He was in my thoughts all the time. Sometimes I ached to see him, to hear him, be with him. And… look at me now.

“Doll.” His voice took on a tentative edge.

This time when he moved toward me, I kept still. He cupped my face with both hands, and that was it. The touch I’d feared. The touch that would take my sanity, and it did. His touch made the world fade away.

“Luc,” I breathed.

When his lips came crashing down on mine, I received them and his kiss like pure oxygen entering my lungs.

This was not like earlier when I’d kissed Sinclaire. I hated myself for that kiss, because Sinclaire deserved to be with someone who wanted to be with him, and I knew full well that no one would ever make me feel the way I felt when I was with Luc.

This kiss stole my heart and soul. It was possessive and greedy but reminded me of all the happy times I’d shared with this man. He’d reached the real me. Not the person I’d created when I left Chicago.

He reached the person I was before I found out how dark my world really was. That person who was full of life, hopes, aspirations, and dreams.

As he kissed me, I swore I heard music. Music that sounded like the powerful masterpieces that I’d danced to. The pieces that spoke to the inner part of me, sparking creativity and raw talent.

This was me and…I’d just realized something. Something that waved itself in front of me with flashing green lights. It was this… I hadn’t lost myself by knowing Luc. I’d found myself.

I’d found that lost person who I used to be, but I was only ever found when I was with him.

His touch felt like it was all over my body. We tore at each other’s clothes. He ripped mine off, tearing away my blouse and popping the clasp on my bra.

His mouth taking in my nipple into a deep suckle heightened my senses. I’d missed this.

Him indulging in every part of me and touching me with the need of consumption.

He alternated between one breast and the other, giving me a good suck until he was satisfied that I’d gotten the pleasure I needed.

I did. I couldn’t control the moans that fell from my lips, and silently I remembered that Gigi could come home at any point.

I’d have to apologize in the morning if we kept her up. There was nothing tame about us when we got together, and we couldn’t be tamed or control ourselves.

It didn’t matter where we were, even at work.

I wrapped my legs around him and continued to kiss him when he picked me up and carried me over to set me down in the middle of the bed.

With a greedy look on his handsome face, he tore my panties off and tossed what was left of them over the bed somewhere.

He slid his fingers deep inside my core, pleased that I was so wet.

“Good girl, you’re wet for me.” In the soft glow of the light in my room, he stood over me like a vengeful god, strong and powerful, gazing down at me like he owned me.

My eyes scanned over the peaks and valleys of his perfectly sculpted abs, with those tattoos that made my mouth water.

He moved his fingers in and out of my core, making me squirm, then he lowered and drank from me, his tongue stroking my clit.

I cried out his name several times as an orgasm ripped through me and I came in shuddering waves, grabbing the bed sheets.

Goddamn, what the hell? I gasped trying to take in some air to clear the sexual fog that swept over my mind.

He smiled with deep satisfaction, loving what he did to me. Loving that he made me lose control over everything. Moving back, he stepped out of his pants and boxers, unleashing his massive cock. Then he spared no time.

He pushed inside me, sliding right into my entrance that welcomed him.

“Fuck, Amelia, you feel so good.” He groaned.

I’d reached the point where I could no longer form words.