Page 52 of Veiled Amor

“Giancarlo.” She whimpered, weak as a kitten, when he rolled to his back and brought her over him. Hands so sure moved up along her waist, across her back, and cupped around her neck, holding her in place. She felt as though her body no longer belonged to her.

Lucia was on top, but she felt his body everywhere.Owninghers.

His hardness, nestled between her opened legs, was a straight shot of adrenaline to her glands, and she almost came whimpering his name like a slut.

“Did you kiss me, or did I kiss you?” She asked when he got her hair in a fist and brought her face down to his. Every pant he let go of, she felt brushing over her lips.

She needed the kiss.

Ached for it.

“Me,” he answered, and right there was Lucia’s grave.

She died a thousand deaths, left in a horny puddle knowing he’d heard her moan his name in her sleep, and he had to tangle his tongue around hers.

Why was that so fucking sexy?

“Gi,” she whispered, not sure what she wanted to say, before she crawled into his mouth to live there. He gently pulled her head back, exposing her neck. She didn’t expect the bite to the soft part of her throat, but it felt wonderful. Electricity shot down between her legs.

On and on, he laid tiny nips on her skin until he reached her chin. Then he sucked, and she moaned. His mouth was a weapon of utter devastation to every part of her body.

When they fell into a mutual kiss, she clutched the side of his face. The hand bunched in her hair was pain-pleasure she relished. Unable to stop her hips from moving. All that separated them were a pair of boxer-briefs and her PJs. God, she felt every ridge of him on her needy sex. “Giancarlo…please.”

Alive and flying. It didn’t matter she couldn’t see his eyes.

They desired each other.

Some men didn’t slip under a woman’s skin as he did tunnel his way in with determination.

Owning her from the inside.

That was Capone and always would be.

She’d been gone for him the first time, and it worsened with each passing second.

She wasn’t a girl who got turned on by danger.

Being on the run had plagued her with fear like nothing else. But it faded to the background while she was in a too-small bed with a hard man.

Once Capone’s hand slid into the back of her PJs, his mouth forcing her lips wider, she wheezed a moan, aching and hungry for more.

“Are you going to fuck me?”

He froze in motion, mouth pausing on hers. There were answers in his stuttered breath, and her heart sank.

He was fucking toying with her.Again.

“Let me go,” she croaked, trying to roll off him unsuccessfully when the hand in her pants held firmly on her butt cheek. “I don’t want to be messed with.”

“Don’t you?” The sex oozed off his tongue and twisted her up. Because, of course, she wanted him to mess with her. She longed for him to wreck her and put her away, sopping wet.

But not if it was like this.

This back and forth, push and pull shit.

She knew why.

And she got it.