Page 95 of Mine Again (Mafia Bride #2)

Chapter Ninety-Four

Luca

I ’m on Isa the moment I pin her against the wall. Light from the windows spills over her like powdered gold.

Fuck, she’s so damn beautiful. And she’s mine… again.

I kiss her with a desperation I’ve never known, like she’s the air in my lungs. She could have been ripped from me for good. I don’t know if I would have survived that.

As long as she breathes, I breathe. As long as her heart beats, mine does too.

Hale had a gun. Isa kicked it away. If he’d fired, she’d be gone. He wouldn’t have hesitated either, always keen to see me suffer.

The thought chills my spine, and I crush her closer, deepening the kiss like I can fuse us into one body.

The realization sinks into my bones, and something inside me breaks open. A protectiveness so fierce it burns to life, and I vow to never let this happen again. I will never let her out of my sight.

I pull her tighter until there’s no space left between us. She makes a sound in her throat, raw and unhinged, and it punches straight through my chest like a fist unclenching.

She melts into me, mouth hot and sure, arms locked around my neck. Her pulse beats wildly against my palm where I cradle her jaw. Mine hammers everywhere.

She’s alive. She’s here.

The words resound inside me like the sweetest prayer.

She winces when her hand slides into my hair, and the reminder of her injuries cuts through the haze.

I set her gently on her feet but keep my hands braced on her shoulders. Her chest is heaving rapidly as her eyes flicker with a flash of confusion, like she doesn’t understand why I’ve pulled back.

“I need to check you over,” I tell her, my voice rough and out of breath.

The desire in her eyes nearly makes me forget myself. The rich and intoxicating scent of her arousal isn’t helping either. It’s driving me wild.

I force myself to focus. “Do you need a doctor for those cuts?”

Her mouth curves upward. The smile guts and melts me at the same time.

“No, I’m fine.”

Her fingers curl into fists. She’s stopping herself from reaching for me. She wants to be closer again. I want that too… after.

Despite the fire between us, she lets me do this. She knows I need this for my peace of mind.

So she doesn’t protest as my eyes track over every visible inch of her, taking stock. She uses the pause to drag in air like she’s refilling her lungs. But she never looks away.

Her gaze stays locked on mine, heavy with a desire that doesn’t fade even under my inspection.

My gut churns when I spot the cuts on her knuckles and forearm. Dried blood crusts them. I hate the sight of it, hate that she got hurt.

My eyes rake down her body. The bottom of her knee-length dress is torn, and there’s a deeper cut on her thigh, but it isn’t bleeding anymore.

The sight of her cuts and scratches sears through me until all I want is to hunt Hale down all over again and pummel his smug face until it’s unrecognizable. But not now. Isa always comes first. She’s my priority.

I sweep her body with my eyes one more time, but this seems to be the extent of her injuries.

Still, I ask. “Did he hurt you in any way? Did he touch you?”

She shakes her head. “No, Hale preferred psychological warfare over physical harm.”

It eats me up not to know what he tried, but Isa won’t have it.

Like the queen she is, she declares, “Later, mio falco . Right now, I need you to hold me.”

She throws her arms around me and hoists herself back up, wrapping her legs around my waist. She presses her lips against mine, making a small sound in her throat. It breaks me, and I press in deeper, taking and giving in the same breath.

Outside the door, men move about, their radios crackling. The world hasn’t stopped burning. But in this sunlit room with Isa’s body against mine, it has. I reach for the lock on the door and turn it, sealing us in. For this moment, there’s only Isa and me.

We kiss like we can make up for every stolen second. Her nails bite into my neck, and I press her higher against the wall. She gasps into my mouth, clinging to me.

“I love you,” I tell her, the words rough with everything I feel.

I kiss her slow, then hard, then slow again. The noise outside dulls to a distant rush. My body is a live wire, my head light.

All that exists is her heat, her scent in my nostrils, the way she says my name like it belongs to her. Because it does.

“Luca, I love you.”

I pull back an inch. Her eyes are wet and blazing. My thumb brushes her cheekbone, and she leans into my hand and chases my mouth.

With my other hand, I yank up her dress, bunch it around her waist, and drag down my zipper.

All I can think about is being inside her, feeling that she’s alive. I’ll make sure nothing and no one can ever take this from us again.

I push aside her panties as I free my cock. It’s been rock hard since the moment my lips touched hers.

Scooping her up into my arms, I lower her onto my steel. I don’t even wet my tip. She’s already slick, dripping for me, as desperate as I am for her.

I slide right in. The perfect fit.

“Luca,” she moans as I fill her. I hold her there, buried deep, savoring the reunion with nothing left between us.

I’ve had her countless times before we were torn apart five years ago, and a few times since stealing her back. But this moment here? It’s different.

It’s as if I’ve never felt her like this before, our first time all over again, only deeper.

More raw. More consuming. More. Everything.

“ Farfalla ,” I whisper, pouring all that more into my voice. Every emotion she stirs in me. Everything she means to me.

Her arms around my neck tighten, pulling me closer even though there’s no space left between us. Her kiss grows hotter. She understands. It’s in the way her mouth claims mine and her body clings like she’ll never let go.

I start to move her up and down, pounding her onto my dick. I need to fuck her so bad.

Her body rises and falls, her tight, slick pussy gripping me every time I pull her down.

“I love you, farfalla ,” I tell her again, breathless as I lift her faster, harder. “You’re my life.”

I don’t just want her by my side; I need her. Always.

Her pussy clamps down around me, milking my cock, each thrust pulling a louder cry from her lips. She’s so wet I can hear it, slick and obscene, driving me closer to the edge with every stroke.

“Marry me… again. This time saying all the words, vowing to be mine for life. I’m yours forever, and I need you to put a ring on my finger.”

“And a tattoo,” she adds on a breathy giggle that turns into a broken moan, begging for more without words .

“Oh yes, and a tattoo,” I say, never breaking my rhythm of pounding into her.

“I want to be the one to mark you,” she whimpers as I hit that spot inside her that makes her pussy strangle my cock.

A shot of ecstasy runs through me, lighting up every cell in my body.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then. You’ll marry me.”

“Yes, yes, yes… Luca,” she nearly screams, her climax approaching. “I will marry you… again.”

Her words unleash a surge of energy, and I fuck her harder. I shove my entire length inside her, knowing she can take it all.

She gasps my name, half sob, half plea, and I give her more of my unleashed need for her.

Her head tips back, eyes squeezed shut, her whole body shaking around me.

“Luca,” she screams as she flies over the edge, her pussy gripping me so tight I see stars, and it rips my own release from me.

“Fuck,” I moan, getting off on the thought of having her forever.

I groan her name as I spill into her, pulse after pulse, drowning in her heat. I kiss her temple, whispering, “Mine,” even as I keep moving inside her.

She spasms around me, quivering in aftershocks. Her body won’t stop trembling, her pussy still milking me as if she can’t bear to let me go.

I slow my pumps to let my heart rate calm, but even after I’ve emptied everything I’ve got into her, my cock doesn’t soften.

Isa’s trembling in my arms, her breath breaking against my neck. And I can’t help myself; I start again, fucking her just as hard as before, my pants still around my knees, my cock slick with her cream.

“Give me more, farfalla .”