Page 41 of The Underboss’s Secret Twins (Underworld Heirs #2)

MARCO

S ofia’s breath is warm against my neck as I lift her effortlessly into my arms, her body molding against mine as if she belongs there.

Maybe she does. Maybe she always has. Her arms slip around my shoulders, her fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt as I carry her out of the dimly lit hallway and toward my bedroom.

The house is silent around us, the heavy walls muffling the world outside, trapping us in this moment, in this charged, electric space where nothing exists except her body pressed to mine and the steps I take toward the inevitable.

She doesn’t speak, but she doesn’t have to.

Her body tells me everything I need to know.

The way she clings to me, the way her legs tighten slightly around my waist, the way her breath hitches when I shift her higher against my chest—she’s just as caught up in this as I am, just as helpless against this pull, this relentless gravity between us.

When we reach my bedroom, I push the door open with my shoulder, stepping inside before kicking it shut behind me. The room is dimly lit, the soft glow from the bedside lamp casting golden pools of light across the dark, sprawling space.

The massive bed dominates the room, its sleek black sheets already rumpled from nights spent without her, from restless sleep haunted by the idea of her, the feel of her. But now, she’s here, and I have no intention of letting her slip away again.

I walk to the bed, lowering her slowly, letting her body slide down mine so that she feels every inch of me, every hard, aching part of me that’s been waiting for this. She gasps softly as she lands against the sheets, her body sinking into them, her silver eyes heavy-lidded as she watches me.

I take my time, letting my gaze roam over her, drinking her in. She’s still dressed, but not for long.

"You know," I murmur, my fingers tracing the curve of her waist as I lean over her, "I’ve been imagining this for a long time."

She exhales a shaky breath, her fingers tightening in the sheets. "Have you?"

I smirk, dragging my fingertips up her ribs, over the curve of her breast, teasing the soft fabric covering her. "You have no idea, sweetheart."

I dip my head, brushing my lips along the side of her throat, feeling the rapid pulse there, the way her skin heats under my touch. "I’ve imagined how soft your skin would feel," I whisper against her collarbone, my tongue darting out to taste her. "How your body would react to my hands, my mouth."

I nip at the delicate skin, soothing it with my tongue, savoring the way she shudders beneath me. "And now," I murmur, kissing my way across her shoulder, "Here we are."

I reach for the hem of her dress, slowly sliding it up her thighs, exposing inch after inch of smooth, golden skin. She lifts her hips for me, letting me peel it away, letting me bare her to my hungry gaze. The dress slips over her head, falling to the floor, forgotten.

I pull back slightly, my breath catching in my throat.

"Fuck," I groan, raking my gaze over her.

She’s laid out beneath me in nothing but lace, delicate black straps framing her curves, the sheer fabric barely concealing what I already know is mine to take.

Sofia arches a brow, a smirk curling her lips despite the way her breath shudders. "Something wrong?"

I let out a dark chuckle, shaking my head. “Just thinking of all the things I’m going to do to you."

Her smirk falters slightly, her pupils dilating as my hands trace down her body, my fingers dipping beneath the lace at her hips, snapping the band against her skin just to hear her sharp inhale.

I kiss my way down her body, trailing my tongue over the swell of her breast, teasing the hardened peak through the sheer lace. She moans softly, her fingers tangling in my hair, tugging slightly, urging me on.

"You like that?" I murmur against her skin, flicking my tongue over the sensitive bud again.

She whimpers, her hips shifting beneath me. "Yes."

I grin against her, dragging my lips lower, licking a slow, deliberate path down her stomach. My hands grip her thighs, spreading them slightly, making room for me.

"You know what I like?" I ask, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the inside of her knee, working my way higher. "I like the way your body reacts to me." I nip at her inner thigh, reveling in the way she gasps, the way she trembles. "The way you shudder when I touch you."

I glance up at her, watching the way her chest rises and falls, the way her fingers twist in the sheets. I press another kiss to her thigh, dragging my tongue over the sensitive skin before biting down just enough to make her whimper.

Her eyes fly open, hazy and unfocused. "Marco?—"

"Shh," I whisper, my lips brushing against the thin lace barrier between us. "I’m not done with you yet."

I lick her through the fabric, slow and teasing, just enough to make her thighs tense, to make her hips jerk against me.

She moans, her head falling back against the pillow, her body arching. "God, Marco?—"

I grin against her, my hands gripping her thighs tighter, holding her still as I kiss her again, open-mouthed, pressing my tongue flat against the lace, letting her feel every stroke, every tease.

"Patience, sweetheart," I murmur, dragging my fingers up her stomach, tracing over her ribs, up to her breasts. I palm them, squeezing gently, flicking my thumbs over the hardened peaks, watching as she writhes beneath me, caught between my hands and my mouth.

She’s so responsive, so open, so fucking perfect.

I lift my head, locking eyes with her, watching the way her lips part, the way her breath comes in short, gasping little pants.

Her hands clutch at my shoulders, her body trembling beneath my touch.

And I haven’t even begun.

Sofia’s fingers drift up my chest slowly, tracing the heat of my skin, the steady thud of my heartbeat beneath her touch. Her eyes are locked onto mine, still heavy with everything I’ve done to her, everything I’m about to do.

She’s still trembling, her body humming with the pleasure I left in my wake, but that doesn’t stop her hands from moving, from sliding over my shoulders, curling into the fabric of my shirt as if she’s suddenly remembered I’m wearing too much.

"Off," she murmurs, her voice husky.

I smirk, pressing a slow kiss to the inside of her wrist. "That eager for me?"

Sofia lets out a breathy laugh, but there’s a heat behind it, something burning in her silver eyes as she tugs at my shirt again. "You’re the only one still dressed, Salvatore. Doesn’t seem fair."

I chuckle but don’t make her wait. I lean back onto my knees, still between her legs, and grab the back of my shirt, pulling it over my head in one slow, unhurried movement. Her gaze rakes over me, shameless and hungry, and my cock twitches at the way she licks her lips, her breath coming faster.

Her hands immediately smooth over my chest, tracing the ridges of muscle, her nails dragging lightly over my abs, down lower.

"Better?" I ask, my voice darker now, thick with the way she’s looking at me.

She hums, tilting her head slightly. "Not quite."

Her fingers move lower, fingertips grazing the buckle of my belt. I watch her as she undoes it, her breath catching as she pulls it free, letting it drop to the floor.

I stay perfectly still, letting her work, letting her take control for just this moment. I want her to want this.

Her hands shake slightly as she undoes the button, lowers the zipper, but she doesn’t hesitate.

She pushes my pants down just enough, just enough to free me, and her eyes widen slightly as I spring free, hard, already aching for her.

"Jesus," she breathes.

I chuckle, reaching for her chin, tilting her face back up to mine. "You scared, baby?"

Her lips part, her cheeks flushing, but she shakes her head. "No," she whispers. "I just?—"

She exhales slowly, and I see it. That sliver of uncertainty. Not about what we’re doing, not about wanting me—but about what this means.

I lean down, pressing my forehead to hers, letting our breaths mix, letting her feel how steady I am.

"Look at me," I murmur.

She does.

Silver meets gold. Heat meets fire.

I cup her cheek, my thumb brushing over her flushed skin, my voice softer than before.

"You’re mine, sweetheart," I murmur. "And I’m yours. No rush. No pressure. Just us."

She swallows hard, her eyes shining with something I can’t name, something that steals my breath.

Then, slowly, she lifts her hips, silently asking for more.

And fuck—I lose myself.

I grip her thighs, spreading them wider beneath me, fitting myself between them, my body settling against hers perfectly, naturally, as if we were always meant to be here.

I reach between us, sliding the head of my cock through her slick heat, teasing her, feeling how drenched she already is for me.

She gasps, her fingers flying to my arms, gripping tight.

"Marco—"

I groan, dragging myself against her again, nudging her entrance, coating myself in her arousal.

"Easy, baby," I whisper. "Let me take my time with you."

I press a soft kiss to her cheek, her jaw, the corner of her lips.

"I want to feel every inch of you," I murmur against her skin. "Want you to feel me. All of me."

She lets out a shaky breath. "I already do."

I grin against her, nipping at her bottom lip, then soothing the bite with my tongue. "Not yet, sweetheart."

I press in just an inch, just enough to stretch her slightly, to make her whimper.

She’s so tight, so warm, so fucking perfect, and my restraint is hanging by a thread.

"Breathe," I whisper, my lips brushing her ear, my hands gripping her hips, keeping her still.

She shudders, her thighs trembling against my sides as she exhales, her nails digging into my skin.

I push in a little deeper, just enough to make her feel it, just enough to make her gasp, to make her toes curl against the sheets.

"You’re doing so good for me, baby," I murmur, kissing the corner of her lips, then her throat, moving slow, patient, letting her body open for me.