Page 48 of Veiled Amor

“This is what happens, isn’t it, Giancarlo? You only get this close to me when you’re pissed off. You can only kiss me when you’re angry.” Her lip wobbled, but she bared her teeth with a hiss as she pushed and pushed at his chest. He was immovable, outweighing her, and he couldn’t find the strength to step back, not when she had him deranged.

He’d kill to kiss her.

He wanted to smash her mouth and demand she never looked at another man again. But that was illogical.

Against his self-imposed rules and the walls he’d put up to keep out the guilt, he knew he’d claimed this woman a long fucking time ago.

That meant she couldn’t flirt and smile and laugh with any other jackass.

Capone swore in Spanish.

Nothing she was saying was a lie.

He only allowed himself to feel when he got to breaking point.

“This isn’t fair,” she whined like a sexy-as-fuck goddess. Her breath pushed over his face, and she clung hard to his waist in the same way he squeezed her hips, as if he could merge their bodies as one. Without warning, Capone wedged his knee between her legs, widening them before he drove his hips forward, hitting her soft parts.

Lucia moaned, eyes closing, but when they opened, they were pure fire. “This isn’t fair, Giancarlo.” He agreed. He was a jealous fucker. He couldn’t have her but threw a fit if anyone else wanted her.

Capone recognized all this and still.

He. Didn’t. Fucking. Care.

Because he was acting on autopilot.

The part of him only Lucia had reached.

And she fueled his fires. Poking his buttons and the beast within snarled.

“Lucia. Don’t,” he begged.

Don’t what? Don’t angle her hips, so she was rolling into his hard cock? He’d never ask that, not when it felt so good.

Don’t what? Expose her wet mouth perfect for kissing?

Don’t what? Fucking torment him?

He teetered on a knife-edge.

Still, he didn’t move.

“Go on then,” she taunted, bumping into him until they were both moaning from the pleasure it elicited.Fuck, he could come with little provocation. “Do what you always do, Gi.” Lucia hissed, “kiss me in anger and then regret it afterward. Punish me for a crime we committed years ago. Punish me for smiling at someone who enjoys my company.”

She pushed, dared, and she taunted until a roar was screaming through Capone’s white skull meat.

The taste of her was already inside him. He didn’t need to crush her lips to know them intimately. She was as much a part of him as his goddamn legs were. And it was killing him slowly.

“Do it,” she said, tears appearing in her eyes, and it was that one change in her that brought Capone to a racing halt.

“Stop,” he groaned, reaching out to palm her face. “Lucia, don’t you dare cry.”

“Fuck you, Gi.” She croaked.

God, he was an asshole. She deserved better than someone like him.

“You don’t get to do this to me.”

No, he didn’t.