Page 54 of Claimed Through Deception

"You're untouched," I say.

It isn't a question. It is a stunning, paradigm-shifting realization.

A mafia boss knows how to read people. I read her file. I knew about her tragic past, her poverty, the way she fought tooth and nail for her independence. I knew she built a fortress around herself. But I assumed it was emotional. I assumed she had lived a life before I dragged her into my world. After all, where she worked was a notorious whore house in disguise.

She wasn’t a whore. She guarded her body as fiercely as her mind. No man has ever claimed her. No man has ever seen her like this.

She was saving herself for a life she wanted to build, and now, she is giving it to me.

A profound possessiveness expands in my chest. It strokes my ego, yes, but it does something else. It humbles me. The beast that wanted to tear her apart and consume her takes a step back.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, misreading my hesitation. She tries to turn her head away. "I know I don't know what I'm doing."

I catch her jaw. I force her to look at me.

"Do not apologize," I tell her in awe. "You are perfect."

The aggression drains out of my hands. I shift my weight, taking the pressure off her. I slide my hands up her arms, mapping the soft skin, before tangling my fingers in her dark hair.

"I am going to adore you," I vow against her lips.

I kiss her. I coax her tongue into my mouth, setting a lazy rhythm. I drag my lips down her chin, kissing the soft pulse point at her throat.

"Look at me," I murmur.

Her heavy eyelids flutter open.

"I am going to take care of you," I promise.

I slide my hand down between our bodies, then I touch her, finding the swollen center of her heat. I begin to stroke her with a friction that is designed to melt her defenses and prepare her body.

Livia whimpers, her hips rolling into my hand.

I take my time. I memorize the exact sounds she makes when I press a little harder. I learn the way her breath hitches when my thumb drags over her most sensitive nerve. I praise her as her whimpers grow.

"That's it," I praise. "Let go for me."

She falls apart in my hands. Her body bows off the mattress, a beautiful, helpless cry leaving her lips as her inner muscles clench tight.

While she is still coming down from the high, I position myself at her entrance again.

I lock my eyes on hers.

"Mine," I declare.

I push forward, slowly and meticulously.

Livia winces, her fingers digging into the sheets, but I do not stop until I break the barrier and bury myself completely inside her.

She is so tight it feels like a vice around my cock. A guttural groan rips out of my throat. I drop my forehead against hers, forcing myself to remain perfectly still while her body stretches to accommodate my size.

"Breathe," I soothe her, kissing the tears off her cheeks. "The pain will fade."

"Niccolò," she gasps, her legs wrapping instinctively around my waist.

"I'm here."

I wait until her breathing evens out, until the pinch in her face shifts back into a flushed heat.