Page 29 of The Mafia's Christmas Baby

The kiss is different.

Like something is breaking open between us.

“You feel—fuck,” he breathes. “You feel perfect.”

I moan in response, tilting my hips, urging him to move.

He does.

The first thrust is slow and dragging, the friction maddening.

I feel the stretch, the glide, the slide of him retreating and pressing back in, and my legs tighten around his waist.

I meet him with a rhythm born from instinct, from the hunger I’ve been swallowing since the first night he looked at me like I was dangerous.

The pace builds, heat curling in my spine again, the sharp slap of skin on skin layered with breathless gasps, with the wet sound of us moving together.

He thrusts deeper, harder, and I cry out, my fingers gripping his back like it’s the only solid thing I have left.

He drives into me again, filling me until I can’t tell where his body ends and mine begins.

The glide of him is thick and hot, the drag exquisite, every thrust pushing me higher.

His chest slides against mine.

His breath catches in my ear.

His hands grip my hips and hold me still as he moves inside me, deep and steady, a rhythm that makes my toes curl against the sheets.

I cling to his shoulders, nails scraping his skin, each stroke pulling a broken sound from my throat.

My head tips back.

My mouth opens around a helpless cry.

He bends to my neck, biting lightly, then soothing the sting with his tongue.

The sound he makes vibrates against my skin, low and raw, a groan that says he’s as close to losing control as I am.

His thumb finds the small, aching spot between us and begins to circle in tight, insistent strokes.

The sensation is almost unbearable.

My body clenches around him.

Heat coils low in my belly, sharper and sharper, until I'm gasping into his mouth, begging without words.

My hips lift to meet him, chasing every thrust, every flick of his thumb, until it all blurs into one rolling wave.

“Come for me,” he murmurs, voice rough and coaxing.

I shatter around him.

Pleasure rolls through me in hard, pulsing waves, my body arching off the mattress, thighs trembling violently.

I moan his name as I come, his mouth catching the sound in a deep, hungry kiss.

He keeps moving inside me, slower now but deeper, his own control unraveling with every thrust.