Page 93 of Mafia And Maid
She knows how to get out of this. We’ve practiced dozens of times now. But she’s frozen.
Her chest labors against mine, her back flush against the wall where we’ve ended up.
Her tongue darts out over her lips, and my eyes zero in.
She’s so damn close.
Right there, ripe for the taking.
Her panting breath fans over my heated skin.
Just a few more inches, and my lips would brush hers…
Would she taste as sweet as I imagine? I swallow loudly, watching as her tongue wets her lips again, slower.
Her pulse jumps under my hand. Her pupils bloom, and it’s not fear eliciting this reaction. It’s something else.
The grip on my hand slackens. And her body leans forward.
Fuck it. Pressing my lips against hers, I swallow the gasp of surprise that leaves her. And tongue tracing the seam of her lips, I dive in, claiming my taste of victory.
The hand on her throat moves to cup her jaw, angling her head into just the right position. My other hand cups her hip, pressing her into me.
Every nerve in my body explodes as I lean my hips into her. I know she can feel me, feel what she’s done to me, and I don’t give a damn.
Hungry for more, I devour her.
Gone are the gentle strokes of her tongue against mine, replaced by a claiming of her own. The spark that’s so buried beneath everything flickers to life within her.
My fingers bury into the back of her hair, threading through the silky strands.
Her own nails drag tentatively up my arm, drawing a deep rumble from my chest. My teeth tug on her lip, capturing it, and sucking it between my own teeth.
Fuck.
I need more. I press closer, fitting my body against hers, my hardness pressing into her softness. Seeking more, needing more.
My fingers grasp her, holding her against me before they drift up under the hem of her tee. Toying with it as my thumb brushes the side of her rib gently, inching higher still.
She’s addictive. From the taste of her to the feel of her body against mine. Nothing tastes or feels as good as she does.
I groan against her jaw as my lips trail down the column of her smooth throat.
Laughter from the hall makes me freeze. I can just make out the soft voice of Ethan beyond the door.
Wide eyed, Rosa looks horrified.
I pull back, gently dropping her back to the ground. Searching her face, I tried to find some inkling as to what’s going through her head. Something to tell me that I wasn’t the only one drowning just now—that it’s not just me.
“I…” She clears her throat, pulling at her T-shirt to adjust it back into place. “I…uh…” She looks at the door and then at me.
And like the bambi she is, she skitters out of the door.
Braced against the wall, I let out a deep sigh. I’m well and truly fucked now.
Because one taste wasn’t enough.
And I want more...