Page 64 of Mine Again (Mafia Bride #2)

Chapter Sixty-Three

Isabella

M io falco.

It slips from my lips without thinking. Like a reflex. Like a truth too deep to unlearn, no matter how much time has passed.

I used to call Luca that in secret. My falcon . Because even back then, he had that look. Sharp, focused, always watching me. He hated nicknames, but that one? He loved.

And saying it now, for the first time in years, is like opening a door I never meant to close.

It’s not just the way he feels inside me or how his body fits against mine like we were made for this. No, it’s deeper than that.

This is not just Luca claiming me. This is me claiming him too.

Through every part of my surrender. Through every movement of my body as I open to him. Because in this space, in this heat and rhythm, this is where I crave to be. Beneath him. Around him. With him.

And this new edge to his lovemaking? The roughness in his grip, the hunger in every thrust, the possessive way his mouth finds mine again and again?

I love it .

And I want more.

“ Mio falco, ” I whisper again, and his body reacts instantly.

His thrusts deepen. His breath roughens.

We’re not who we were five years ago. We’re not soft and shy and stolen anymore.

This is different.

More primal. More demanding. And it feels like coming home.

But don’t mistake this for anything less than love. Of that, I’ve never been more certain.

It’s in the way he touches my face between thrusts. In the way his lips brush the edge of my jaw like he cannot stop reminding himself I’m here. It’s in every breath he gives me, every groan against my throat, every time he whispers my name.

I wrap my arms around his shoulders, my fingers digging in, desperate to hold on as the heat inside me builds fast. I sense him holding back, his muscles tight with restraint, his jaw clenched. He’s still giving me everything, but he’s not letting himself fall yet.

He’s waiting for me. That part hasn’t changed.

And I’m so close I can taste it.

Heat is spiraling tighter, coiling low. My breath shortens. My body arches into him, desperate to reach the peak. Every nerve lights up. Every sound he makes feeds the ache.

So close.

“Luca,” I gasp, legs tightening around his waist, hips arching into him with each thrust. “Please. Don’t stop.”

“Never,” he breathes, sweat beading on his forehead, eyes dark with arousal.

I slide my fingers into his hair and pull him to me, kissing him like I’m losing myself and the only place I exist is in him.

And then I shatter.

Fireworks detonate behind my eyes. My entire body jerks. My breath catches in my throat. I cry out into his mouth, unable to hold anything back as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through me.

My thighs clamp around him, my hands clutch at his shoulders like I’ll break if I let go.

And through it all, he stays right there. Inside me. With me.

Holding me together even as I fall apart.

I expect Luca to follow me into the abyss, but he pulls out of me abruptly and scoots down on the bed.

My brain barely has time to catch up before his two thumbs spread my lips wide and his tongue delves into my folds.

“Oh God!”

That tongue of his. It’s magic; always has been, and apparently nothing has changed.

“I want your release on my tongue,” he declares as he buries his face in my pussy.

His stubble gives me the perfect friction between my legs, and my entire body shudders in delight.

“God, you’re still so good at this,” I moan as his tongue dives deeply inside me, fucking me like his cock just did.

“And you still taste like heaven.”

He reaches up and palms my breasts, fingers rolling my nipples.

“This is t-too m-much,” I gasp, overwhelmed by the sheer overload of sensation. It’s so good it hurts.

He ignores my stammered protest, his mouth relentless. Sucking. Licking. Driving me straight into madness.

My pussy is swollen and aching, still pulsing from my first orgasm, but already desperate for more.

I grab his hair and pull, helpless against the pressure building again. My thighs tremble, tight around his head. My vision swims.

He’s relentless. I’m unraveling all over again. And I never want him to stop.

Luca senses it, of course. He always does.

“I want to drink more of your cum, farfalla . Give it to me.”

He eats me like a man starved. Like my release is the only thing that can satisfy him.

And my body, my soul, and the part that has only ever been his responds .

“Ahh,” I cry out when he sucks my clit between his lips. Hard. So hard.

A second climax tears through me, sharper than the first. Stars scatter across my vision as I spiral into white heat. My limbs are numb, muscles quaking.

He doesn’t stop but slows, savoring me. Lapping… tasting… worshiping.

“So incredibly beautiful,” he murmurs, voice reverent against my skin.

I’ve never felt so exposed or so cherished.

I’m boneless, breathless, undone.

I try to roll to my side, to shift, but his hands are still on my hips. Strong. Steady. Possessive.

“We’re not done yet.”

Before I can catch my breath, he’s sliding up the length of my body, his weight pressing me into the mattress, his heat covering me like a second skin.

His mouth lowers to my neck, and he scrapes his teeth across the delicate skin, sending a jolt through my already overstimulated nerves.

I gasp as he reaches between us and grabs hold of his cock. It’s hard and slick and pulsing against me.

He thrusts back into me in one smooth, hungry stroke.

I cry out. He meets no resistance. He might have licked up every drop of my climax, but I’m already soaked again.

And if he keeps going, if he’s determined to give me another orgasm, I might not survive it.

But what a way to go.

His mouth finds mine, and this kiss is different. Messy, deep, intimate .

I can taste myself on his lips. And somehow that makes it hotter. Dirtier. More sacred. He devoured me, and now he’s feeding it back to me. His pleasure. My surrender. Our need.

It’s erotic and consuming and terrifying in the most perfect way.

His cock throbs so hard it’s like a second pulse inside me. I shift my hips, trying to take him deeper, and the angle changes just enough for him to drag across that spot that makes me jolt with sparks.

He does it again, slow and deliberate. I clench around him, helpless to stop it.

Again.

Again.

“So close,” I moan, my entire body shaking. “I’m so close.”

He pulls almost all the way out. The stretch makes my walls flutter with desperate anticipation.

And then he slams back in.

Hard. Deep. With so much force and command of my body that my climax crashes over me like a tidal wave.

I throw my head back. My entire body goes rigid. Tears leak from the corners of my eyes as I break. My orgasm drags me under so fiercely, I struggle to breathe.

Luca groans, the sound guttural and broken, as he buries himself to the hilt.

I feel him pulse. Feel the first hot spurts of his cum fill me.

His lips find mine again. He’s still moving, slow now, like he’s trying to make it last.

He holds my face as he moans into my mouth, his cock still twitching inside me, his entire body shaking with the force of his release.

I’ve never felt more undone, more safe.

Claimed… his .

I blink slowly, my vision hazy, my body boneless. Floaty and soft and utterly ruined in the best possible way.

This is what heaven must be like. If heaven came with sweat-damp sheets, three earth-shattering orgasms, and a man who worships you like you’re holy ground.

My thighs are still trembling. My legs? Useless. They wouldn’t hold me up even if I tried.

And the truth is, I never want to get up.

Not when I’m finally where I belong… with mio falco.