Page 49 of The Mafia’s Second Shot (Burning For You Again #3)
ZOE
T he room feels alive with warmth, the soft flicker of candlelight casting golden hues on the walls. Cooper’s hand rests lightly on my waist as he pulls me closer, his touch firm but tender. The quiet hum of the city outside is muffled, as though the world has shrunk to just the two of us.
“Zoey,” he murmurs, his voice low, the sound of it sending a shiver down my spine.
I look up at him, his face inches from mine, his expression raw and open in a way that makes my chest ache.
This isn’t just a celebration—it’s a moment we’ve been building toward, one where the weight of the past no longer feels so heavy.
For the first time, I let myself believe that this moment, this life we’re creating, is real.
He leans in, brushing his lips against mine in a kiss that starts slow, almost hesitant.
But as I press closer, my hands sliding up his chest, it deepens, the tension that’s been simmering between us spilling over.
His hand moves to the small of my back, pulling me flush against him, and I can feel the steady beat of his heart against mine.
“You’ve been holding back,” I whisper, breaking the kiss just long enough to meet his gaze. “Why?”
He hesitates, his thumb brushing lightly along my jaw. “Because I didn’t want to rush you.”
I smile, leaning into his touch. “You’re not rushing me. I want this. I want you.”
The words seem to break something loose in him.
He captures my lips again, this time with more urgency, more heat.
His hands roam, sliding up my sides and down my back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, as though the space between us is unbearable.
He lifts me effortlessly, his strength both thrilling and comforting as he carries me to the bed. The candles flicker, their light dancing across his face as he lowers me onto the soft sheets. For a moment, he just looks at me, his gaze tracing every inch of my face as though he’s memorizing it.
“You’re beautiful,” he says softly, the sincerity in his voice stealing my breath.
I reach for him, pulling him down until his weight presses against me, grounding me in a way nothing else can. His lips trail down my neck, his breath warm against my skin, and I arch into him, my body responding to his every touch.
Every movement feels deliberate, every kiss and caress an unspoken promise. His hands slide under the hem of my shirt, the rough pads of his fingers sending sparks skittering across my skin. I gasp as he pulls the fabric over my head, his eyes darkening as he takes me in.
“Zoey,” he murmurs again, his voice rough with emotion. “I?—”
“Don’t stop,” I interrupt, my hands moving to the buttons of his shirt. “Just don’t stop.”
He smiles faintly, his hands covering mine as he helps me strip away the barrier between us.
The heat of his skin against mine is intoxicating, the intensity of his gaze making my heart race.
As his lips return to mine, I feel the last of my doubts and fears melt away, replaced by a desire so raw it leaves me breathless.
Time blurs as we lose ourselves in each other, every touch and kiss drawing us closer.
His vulnerability is palpable, each whispered word and gentle movement a reminder of how far we’ve come.
He’s gentle but passionate, his hands mapping every inch of my body as though he’s discovering me for the first time.
I let myself surrender completely, my hands exploring the planes of his back, the strength in his arms, the curve of his jaw. It’s not just physical—it’s everything we’ve fought for, everything we’ve overcome, distilled into this one moment.
“Look at me,” he whispers, his voice rough but steady.
I do, my breath catching at the depth of emotion in his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere,” I say softly, my voice trembling with the weight of the promise.
He presses his forehead to mine, his breath warm against my skin. “Neither am I.”
The words settle between us, grounding us as we move together, our connection deepening with every moment. It’s both a release and a renewal, a reminder of the love that has carried us through the darkest times.
After, we lie tangled in the sheets, the room still glowing with the soft light of the candles. My head rests on his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothing me as his fingers trace lazy patterns along my back.
“I’ve never felt safer,” I whisper, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
His hand stills, and he tilts my chin up so I’m looking at him. “I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure you always feel that way,” he says, his voice low and full of conviction.
I smile, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I believe you.”