“That doesn’t mean we can’ttry,” he insists, and he punctuates the suggestion by sliding two fingers beneath the satin fabric of my panties and pressing them inside me.
I whimper again, throbbing around him as he teases my clit, fingering me at the same time.
“Your pussy seems to like the idea,” he teases, his breath warm as it tickles across my throat.
“Mm-hmm,” I gasp, my hips rolling into his palm.
“You want my cock inside you?” he asks, and I know he’s toying with me, stretching out my sense of need until I feel like a piano wire about to snap.
“Please, Gio,” I beg.
“Only if you say it,” he teases again, his teeth brushing lightly along the shell of my ear.
I know exactly what he wants to hear.
It’s the single word that ties us together until death do us part, and I love how much he likes to hear it.
“My husband,” I moan as his fingers curl inside me. “I want you, Gio, my husband. Please, come inside me.” I let a hint of a beg trickle into my tone so he knows just how much I need him.
He practically purrs, the sound low and throaty as he slides his fingers out of me and curls them around the waistline of my panties.
He takes his time undressing me, each movement slow and purposeful, punctuated with a kiss.
And by the time he moves on to his own clothing, I’m a panting mess of lust-filled need.
Then he settles gently between my thighs, careful to hold his weight off me so he won’t hurt me or the baby.
And when he presses slowly inside me, the world around me falls away.
I close my eyes, my lips parting as an intense euphoria sweeps through my body.
This is everything I’ve ever wanted.
The pure joy of becoming one with the man I love.
I’m with the only person I was ever meant to be with.
And I’m ready to spend a lifetime wrapped in his arms.
EXTENDED EPILOGUE/SNEAK PEEK
SANDRO
“God, you are impossible,” Raf snarls as he drags me out of the fighting pits before I can finish what I started.
The other guy is still on the floor, chest heaving, mouth bloodied, looking at me like he isn’t sure if he’s alive or dreaming.
I’m dripping sweat, the faint sting of my split knuckles burning under the tape that binds them.
The crowd’s roar hasn’t even died down when Raf’s hand clamps on my shoulder, fingers digging in like a vise.
“We’re leaving. Now,” my twin says, tone sharp enough to cut through the pounding in my ears. “You were supposed to meet me at Miko’s over an hour ago.”
I look at him, chest still heaving. “I?—”
“No. Not a word. You’re coming with me.”
He doesn’t wait for me to agree. Raf pulls me through the crowd—still sweaty, still reeking of adrenaline and smoke from thecigarettes the Murrays still permit in the underground fighting pits.
