Page 27 of The Underboss’s Secret Twins (Underworld Heirs #2)

SOFIA

M arco stands at the edge of the bed, his chest rising and falling in deep, controlled breaths, but his control is an illusion—I can see it in the way his hands flex at his sides, in the way his dark eyes rake over me, hungry and unrelenting.

I should feel powerful under his gaze, knowing I can undo a man like him with nothing but a look, but instead, I feel vulnerable.

Like I’ve already lost.

His hands find the hem of my dress, slow, deliberate. He lifts it, just enough for his fingers to graze my bare thighs. I shiver at the contact, my body too sensitive, too aware.

"You think I’m going to let you forget tonight, dolcezza? " he murmurs, voice thick with promise. "You think I’ll let you use me to drown everything out?"

I swallow, my breath hitching as his thumbs stroke slow circles into my skin.

"Marco…"

"Say it." He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, his breath sending a shudder straight through me. "Tell me what you need."

I can’t. Not when he’s doing this—dragging it out, making me want.

His teeth graze my earlobe, and I gasp as his hands travel higher, fingers teasing the lace edge of my panties, dipping under but never touching where I need him most.

"Nothing to say?" His smirk is sinful, his voice taunting as his hands explore, his touch frustratingly light. "Not so sharp-tongued now?"

I let out a frustrated whimper, my hips shifting, searching for more. "Stop teasing."

He chuckles, low and dark, as if this is a game only he knows the rules to. "Oh, amore, I haven’t even started."

Then he moves.

In one swift motion, he grips the backs of my thighs and spreads me wide, dragging me to the edge of the bed until my legs dangle over the sides. He kneels before me, his palms smoothing up the outside of my thighs, his breath warm against the bare skin between them.

I’m shaking now, my body already aching, already begging.

"Look at you," he murmurs, eyes locked onto mine as his fingers drag lazily over my soaked panties. "Fucking trembling for me, and I’ve barely touched you."

"Then touch me," I bite out, frustration laced in my voice.

He tsks, shaking his head. "You don’t give the orders here, dolcezza. "

Then he leans in, slow, deliberate torture, and presses an open-mouthed kiss against the inside of my thigh.

I whimper, my fingers twisting into the sheets.

Another kiss. Another. Each one closer, each one softer than the last.

"Marco…"

He hums against my skin, dragging his lips higher, inhaling deeply like he’s savoring the scent of my arousal. "You’re already dripping, bella. " His voice is thick with satisfaction. "Is this what you wanted?"

I nod frantically, my body on fire, every nerve ending begging for more.

But he doesn’t give it to me.

Instead, he moves higher, his lips brushing the lace of my panties, his tongue pressing against the damp fabric, tasting me through it.

I jolt, a broken sound leaving my throat as he does it again.

"You want my mouth, baby?" he purrs, voice dripping with sin. "You want me to make you come with nothing but my tongue?"

"Yes," I gasp. "Please."

A pleased hum vibrates against me. "Beg me properly."

My pride wars with my desperation, but only for a second.

"Please, Marco," I whisper, desperate, wrecked. "I need you. I need your mouth on me. Please."

He groans, deep, like my begging did something to him, like it unraveled him in ways he wasn’t expecting.

Then, finally— finally —he hooks his fingers into my panties and rips them away.

I barely have time to gasp before his mouth is on me.

And then I shatter.

The first stroke of his tongue is devastating.

Broad, slow, owning me from the start. He licks into me like a man starved, like this is what he’s been waiting for, what he’s needed just as much as I have. The sensation is so intense, so overwhelming, my body jerks, fingers clawing at the sheets, a helpless, broken sound tearing from my throat.

He growls against me, his hands tightening on my thighs, holding me down.

"You’re not running from this, dolcezza, " he rasps, his voice hoarse, half-wild. "Not when you taste this fucking sweet."

I can’t breathe. Can’t think.

All I can do is feel.

His tongue moves in slow, teasing circles, flicking against my clit before he slides lower, devouring me in long, hot strokes. Every nerve ending lights up, my back arching as the pleasure coils tight in my belly, already pushing me toward the edge.

I whimper, hips lifting into his mouth, but his hands slam me down, pinning me to the bed.

"Stay still," he commands, his breath scorching against my skin. "Or I’ll tie you down and make you take it."

A desperate moan escapes me at the thought, and he chuckles darkly.

"You like that?" His tongue flicks against my clit, fast, sharp, before he sucks me into his mouth.

I cry out, legs shaking, my body already too close, too wrecked.

"Fuck, Marco, please?—"

He groans, the vibration shattering through me as he buries his face deeper, his tongue plunging inside me, fucking me, his grip bruising on my thighs.

I can’t take it.

I can’t.

My fingers sink into his hair, yanking, but instead of pulling away, he moans against me, his tongue fucking me harder, faster.

"Jesus—" I choke out, my vision blurring, my body spiraling.

He groans, his hands moving, spreading me wider, his mouth everywhere at once—his tongue, his lips, his teeth, wrecking me, owning me.

"Come for me," he demands, voice raw, commanding. "Come on my tongue, bella. "

I shatter.

The orgasm rips through me, violent and all-consuming, my thighs trembling, my breath breaking, my entire world narrowing to the feeling of his mouth, his tongue, his hands.

But he doesn’t stop.

He doesn’t even slow down.

He keeps licking, keeps sucking, his tongue merciless, dragging me into a second orgasm before I can even catch my breath.

I scream his name, my body convulsing, my nails digging into his scalp as I fall apart again.

Only then—only when I’m boneless, trembling, gasping for air—does he finally lift his head.

His mouth is slick, his lips swollen, his pupils blown wide as he wipes his thumb across his mouth, like he’s memorizing the taste of me.

Then he smirks, dark and possessive, dragging his hands slowly up my body, making me shiver.

"I could live between your thighs," he murmurs, voice thick, ruined.

I shudder, still trembling, still aching.

Then he leans in, brushing his lips against mine, making sure I taste myself on his tongue.

And just as I start to melt into him, just as my hands clutch at his shoulders, desperate to pull him closer?—

He pulls back.

And grins.

"Now," he says, voice low and taunting, "are you ready to beg me to fuck you?"

Fuck it. If this is the end, I’m going out all guns blazing.

Before he can taunt me again, before he can push me into another breathless, trembling mess, I move.

I push against his chest, using his own weight against him, flipping us until he’s the one beneath me, his back hitting the mattress as he utters a sharp exhale.

His smirk is lazy, cocky, but his eyes are burning, watching me like I’m his next sin. Like he’s waiting to see what I’ll do next.

I don’t make him wait long.

"Think you can just tease me and get away with it?" I murmur, dragging my nails down his chest, feeling the way his muscles tense under my touch.

His smirk widens, dark amusement flashing in his gaze. "I think you like when I tease you."

I hum, leaning down, my lips grazing the sharp edge of his jaw. "Maybe." I nip at his skin, my teeth sinking in just enough to make him grunt, his hands twitching at his sides. "But I think you’re going to like this more."

His breath catches as I slide lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses down his throat, over the ridges of his collarbone, down the center of his chest.

I take my time, dragging my tongue over his skin, tasting him, savoring the way his abs tighten when I dip lower, my nails raking over his obliques, over the thick muscles flexing beneath me.

His hands move—like he wants to grab me, guide me—but I pin them down, pressing them into the mattress beside him.

His brow lifts, amusement flickering. "Oh? You think you’re in charge now, dolcezza? "

I smile sweetly, pressing a lingering kiss just above his waistband.

"Shut up and find out."

Then I reach behind me, grabbing the small tin of cooling mints I left on the nightstand.

His eyes flick to the tin, then back to me, something dangerous sparking in his gaze.

"Sofia," he warns, voice lower now, rougher.

I don’t listen.

I pop one onto my tongue, letting it melt, the icy burn spreading through my mouth, cooling my lips, my tongue, my breath.

Then I drag my mouth down his stomach, lower, lower?—

And lick the length of him.

His reaction is instant.

A snarl, sharp and guttural, his body jerking, hands fisting the sheets as my icy-hot tongue glides over him, the contrast between my heat and the lingering chill from the mint making him shudder.

"Christ," he grits out, his control slipping, his head tipping back as I wrap my lips around the tip of his cock and suck.

I hollow my cheeks, taking him deep, letting the cool tingle spread over every inch of him, every slick stroke of my tongue driving him insane.

His hands fly to my hair, fingers tightening, hips tensing like he wants to thrust deep, but he forces himself still.

Barely.

His breath is ragged, his muscles flexing as I work him slow, deep, relentless.

"Fuck, dolcezza, " he groans, his grip tightening as I hum around him, the vibration making him twitch against my tongue.

I pull back, dragging my lips achingly slow, letting him feel every second of it.

Then I blow softly against the slick tip, letting the last remnants of cooling mint sear into him.

His entire body tenses, a violent shudder wracking through him.

"You—" His voice breaks. He yanks me up, flipping me onto my back, his body caging mine in an instant.