Page 88 of The Underboss's Secret Twins

I scream his name, my fingers clawing at his shoulders, my legs locking tight around his waist, trying to pull him deeper, harder, faster.

His hand snaps up, grabbing my jaw, forcing my face up until my eyes meet his.

"Look at me." His voice is low, wrecked, dangerous. "I want to see you when you come. I want to feel you break for me."

His thrusts turn brutal, so deep, so perfect, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the room, mixing with my helpless moans, his growls, the sheer desperation of it all.

"Fuck, Sofia," he groans, voice raw, his forehead pressing against mine, sweat dripping from his temple onto my cheek. His jaw clenches, his breath hot and ragged, his entire body trembling with restraint.

I whimper, the coil in my stomach tightening too fast, too hard.

"That’s it, baby." His fingers dig into my waist, his pace turning frantic, reckless, relentless. "You’re mine. Mine. Fucking come for me."

And then I do.

The orgasm rips through me, violent and earth-shattering, my entire body seizing, my mouth parting on a silent scream as I convulse around him, dragging him down with me.

"Christ—" Marco snarls, his rhythm faltering as he buries himself deep, his body shuddering against mine as he loses himself, spilling into me with a guttural groan.

For a moment, everything is fire.

Then everything is quiet.

The only sound is our labored breathing, our hearts pounding in sync.

And as he collapses against me, his face buried in my neck, his lips pressing the faintest, most unexpected kiss to my skin.

22

MARCO

Sofia thinks I don’t notice the way her fingers trail over my chest, the way she shifts beneath me, pressing against me even as her body still trembles from what I just did to her.

What we’ve just done is enough to exhaust her, and I can tell she’s spent by the way she looks, cheeks flushed, eyes half-lidded, mouth partly open.

But she still wants more.

I can feel it in the way her thighs squeeze around my waist, the way her nails tease over my ribs, her mouth brushing the side of my neck, lips parted, hungry again.

I smirk against her skin, dragging my fingers slowly down her spine. "You’ve had enough"

Her breath catches, just from my voice.

And fuck, it’s a powerful thing.

"Have I?" she murmurs, voice sweet. She shifts again, grinding the softest, laziest roll of her hips against me, making me feel how soaked she still is.

My grip tightens instantly.

Jesus Christ.

She’s already ready for more.

A low chuckle rasps from my throat as my fingers slide along her jaw, firm and possessive. I tilt her chin up, forcing her gaze to meet mine. My thumb presses just below the hollow of her throat—not enough to hurt, just enough to remind her who holds the reins.

"You’re playing with fire, Sofia."

Her lips part, a breath caught between defiance and acceptance. Her gaze never wavers, dark lashes framing eyes that give nothing away.