Page 149 of Mafia King’s Dangerous Vow

The boy.

My hands close once at my sides.

She catches me looking and smiles faintly. “I thought married people did this.”

“What?”

“Undress in front of each other.”

She says it like it’s something ordinary. Domestic. Almost careless. But her eyes dare me to make it less than that.

“They do,” I say, forcing myself not to move. “And then some.”

The faint smile deepens. Then she reaches into the bag, takes one of my T-shirts, and pulls it over her head.

Of course she chooses mine.

Of course that undoes me more than the lace did.

We climb under the covers, and she comes to me without hesitation, curling against my side with her cheek pressed to my chest. Her body is warm. Soft. Still trembling.

I wrap my arm around her and brush my mouth over her temple.

“I can’t turn my brain off,” she says. “It keeps cycling. What if tomorrow⁠—”

“Stop.”

Her head lifts.

I tighten my arm around her waist, not hard. Just enough to bring her back to the room. “Spiraling won’t help.”

“Neither will lying here in the dark.”

“No,” I say. “But I’m here.”

She puts a leg over me, pulling me closer. “I don’t want to think for a while.”

I roll her onto her back, settling my weight over her. “I have an idea how to distract you.”

Her gray eyes are luminous in the darkness. Haunted. “Show me.”

I kiss her because words feel inadequate. Because she’s here and real and falling apart in ways I recognize from my own darkest moments. My hand slides under the shirt she’s wearing, finding warm skin that makes her gasp into my mouth.

This isn’t supposed to be about sex. It’s supposed to be comfort. Connection. A way to quiet the thoughts screaming through her head. But her body responds to mine with immediate heat, her legs parting to let me settle between her thighs, and comfort becomes something more complicated.

“Sasha.” My name sounds desperate on her lips. “I need⁠—”

“I know what you need, trouble.” I strip the shirt over her head, tossing it aside. Moonlight paints her skin silver, turning her ethereal. “Let me give it to you.”

My mouth finds the small heart tattooed on her wrist. I press a kiss to the ink, feeling her pulse hammer beneath my lips. I kiss up her arm, across her shoulder, down to the hollow of her throat. “We’re going to find a way.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

I seal the vow with my mouth on hers, swallowing her gasp as my hand slides between her thighs. She is already wet, and the knowledge nearly breaks what discipline I have left.

I work her with my fingers, watching her face as pleasure builds. The haunted look in her eyes fades, replaced by a hazy and unfocused expression. Her lips part on silent moans that I capture with my mouth, hips rocking against my hand, chasing sensation instead of drowning in thought.