Page 92 of Veiled Amor

“We can do whatever the fuck we want.”

Her reflection smiled at him, and he turned his head to drop a kiss on her temple.

“You’re such a good fake hubby. The best I’ve had.”

It was like she was tapping into parts of Capone he didn’t know existed inside of him because his groan was all satisfaction.

God only knew how long he’d wanted to be her husband, now it was within his grasp. He’d fucking destroy anyone who got in his way again.

And on that dark thought, his phone chimed.

“Grab that for me.”

She answered his phone and nearly gave Capone’s shaft a strain with how fast he became hard. “Hello, Capone’s phone; how can I help?”

“Jesus,nena.” He groaned, paused his hair styling. He saw her frown with confusion, covering the mouthpiece. “What?”

“Don’t talk all sexy as fuck like that.”

She flushed with a grin. “I wasn’t. You’re crazy.”

Yeah, she damn well was. He heeled over his groin and listened as she told Preacher he was on his way in soon. The moment she hung up, he grabbed her around the waist, deposited her on the counter, and got between her legs. She was only wearing a pair of sleep shorts and one of his shirts. He could see the poking of her nipples through the material, and his dirty horn-dog side had ideas to suck them through the cotton.

“You need to use your phone voice on me,” he told her, dipping his mouth to her collarbone where his shirt slid off her shoulder. “It’s sexy as fuck.”

She pushed his shoulder, knowing he’d made her shy. Fuck, she was delicious. “It’s just my regular voice, you loon.”

“Sexy,” shoulder kiss, “as fuck,” another kiss.

There was not one thing he’d done in his life to deserve a woman like her.

Capone had blood on his hands.

Long before he left Miami, he’d probably broken most laws and didn’t think twice about it. But if he was going to get his shot at her now, he was taking it. The dreamy sparkle in her eyes when she looked at him, especially when he was buried balls deep inside her, said she didn’t mind that he was a bad man.

Being an unprincipled man meant he had no rules with claiming and protecting what was his. He’d denied it for a long time, but Lucia was his woman. Capone might have to emote better, but now his floodgates were open, he let in his feelings, and they were pulsing from wanting her so badly.

Leaning in, he squeezed her hips and felt her legs coil around him; before he could dip down and take her mouth, her hand stopped him. “No fair, you already brushed your teeth. Let me do mine, and then we can kiss.”

Capone growled and swooped in, “don’t fucking care about that, now open your mouth and give me your tongue.” Her kiss came shyly at first until he felt her soften against him, and then he tasted her with fast flicks of his tongue. The kiss might have started tame, but it didn’t stay that way when Lucia groaned into his mouth. Grasping her around the nape, he tipped her head back, stroking sinfully over her seeking tongue.

Dios. He wanted her all the time.

The pain of wanting her never quit.

Panting against his lips, she smiled and rolled her fingers up his bare chest. “You look incredible with all this ink.” She told him. “I always wanted to get a tattoo but thought it might hurt.”

“I will take you for some ink,” he said, already imagining her sitting in Ruby’s tattooing chair and how he’d look after her afterward. Capone was a neanderthal, growing harder, picturing her wearing his name somewhere on her unspoiled body.

The body he wanted to pump into right now.

He pulled her to the edge of the counter, so his rock-solid dick bumped up against her softness. Lucia moaned again, her eyes low-lidded and dream-like.

The bedroom was too fucking far away for him to grab a condom. He could be inside in seconds by pulling her tiny sleep shorts down her legs. A grunt pumped out of Capone’s throat, and he put his forehead to hers, squeezing her hips.

“I want to have you without a condom. Feeling you tight and sopping around my cock. What do I need to do to have that,nena?”

He needed to die in her slick paradise.