Page 119 of The Mafia Marriage Contract

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat making it impossible to speak for a moment.

When I clear my throat, my voice comes out all croaky. “I went there to protect you… and I’d do it again, Kingston. They want you dead. They wanted me to pull the trigger. They want us both gone.”

His jaw clenches, the muscles working beneath his skin. His gaze never wavers from mine, and there’s a flicker of something primal in his eyes.

“Livvie,” he warns, his voice thick, almost a growl. “I’d rather fucking die than see you in pain. You understand? I won’t ever permit you to be collateral damage. Not now. Not ever.”

His voice softens as he rubs my arm like he’s trying to wake it up.

“I love you, Livvie,” he says. “Like madly fucking in love with you. And nothing will ever change that.”

The heat of friction tingles through my arm and my fingers flare to life. Slowly, as if waking from a deep sleep, the faintest twitch happens like a spark igniting in my left hand.

The numbness is replaced by warmth, by a spreading pulse of sensation. My fingers curl until they grip the sheet.

“Kingston,” I gasp. “I can feel?—”

His eyes go wide as he watches my hand move a little, then my arm.

“Holy fuck, baby… You’re doing it,” he breathes, his voice raspy. “I knew you’d do it. Fuck, you’re a true Viacava. My sexy as fuck warrior.”

My smile widens when he lifts my left hand, kisses it, and threads his fingers with my weak ones.

In that moment, his returning smile is so damn genuine, my heart swells and tears sting my eyes. Relief and love for this man wash over me in a wave.

The warmth of his kiss sends a shiver through me, every nerve in my body awakening, as if my skin is hypersensitive to his lips.

His thumb runs along the inside of my wrist, a soft caress, and the fire that’s always been between us burns hot, even after everything we’ve been through.

He leans in, his lips hovering just above mine, the heat of his breath mingling with mine.

“Kingston…” I whisper, my voice trembling from the closeness of him, the intensity of his gaze. “Thank you for always saving me.”

“That’s my job, princess. Protecting and worshipping my wife.”

He presses his lips to minein a kiss that’s slow and tender at first. But when I whimper into his mouth, the floodgates open, and it deepens, turning harder, hungrier.

His hand slides into my hair, holding me closer, securing me against him as he claims my mouth in a way that makes my pulse spike, sending welcomed shock waves through me.

The machine beside us goes wild, the rapid beeping an echo of my racing heart.

I melt into him, every inch of my body responding to his desire. The kiss pulls every ounce of tension from my limbs, filling the spaces of my fear and doubt with his love, his protection, and his devotion.

His hands move over my body with the kind of tender possessiveness that serves to make me stronger.

“I need you,” he growls against my lips, his voice thick with heat and desperation. “You’re my wife. Every part of you is mine.”

Just as I begin to lose myself in the heat of his kiss, the door to the room opens, and a deep and unapologetically cocky voice cuts through the heat.

“Well, it’s good to know you're well enough to get down and dirty, Livvie,” Bronx’s voice booms from the doorway, the edge of humor in his tone impossible to miss.

"Kingston…" he calls. "I need a word… like right now."

My heart stutters, and for a split second, I don’t know if I can breathe. Our connection breaks, replaced by a rush of unease, a cold wave of dread sweeping over me.

Kingston’s face hardens, his posture straightening as he looks back at his brother, exhaling a breath, annoyance flickering in his eyes.

“Fine,” Kingstonresponds. He turns back to me, his gaze softening just for a moment as he brushes a lock of hair from my face. “I’ll be right back.”