Luciano: Lovers-to-Enemies-to-Lovers Mafia Romance

PROLOGUE

“M y wife.” As he whispered those words into my ear, his warm breath seared my sensitive

skin. He pumped into me with slow, powerful thrusts. My nails dug into his muscles, the grip tight and every sensation within me burning with need. His voice was cocky and possessive.

“Say you are mine,” he demanded.

Just like the night we met, his gaze sent a blaze through my body and heat brushed through every inch of my skin. His gaze on me was like a hot and cold brush over my skin.

“Yours,” I vowed.

The moment our eyes met in his club three months ago, the air rushed out of my lungs and my life has been spinning in all the right directions. My body jolted with a strange electric sensation when his hazel green gaze watched me, the cockiness and arrogance written all over his face. But I still couldn’t resist the pull. I have been his from the moment we locked eyes across the room in that nightclub.

Right now, I ached for him, needing more of him. His everything. I had never thought I could belong to someone so completely. But I was his, every piece of my heart, soul, and body. I was all his.

His groans vibrated against my ear and through every little piece of me. From the tip of my toes to the strands of my hair.

“Please, Luciano,” I begged breathlessly.

He knew what that meant. He read me like an open book. He sped up his rhythm, his sculpted, inked body thrusting hard, in and out, filling me up again and again. Each time, touching places deep inside of me. My nails raked his shoulders, my cries for him getting louder with each thrust. He rutted me hard and relentlessly, deeper and rougher. Exactly the way I needed him.

My hips rolled beneath him, meeting his every thrust. He made my body burn, the flames of desire licking each inch of my skin. I didn’t care about anyone or anything. Just him. He’d ruined me for anyone else. My heart was his. I was a fool to think I’d ever escape untouched by him, in one way or another. He had taken my heart and my body, like a thief in the night.

“Fuck. I can’t get enough of you,” he grunted, thrusting hard, pounding me like the ruthless beast he was. And I loved every second of it. Relished the feeling of him losing control inside me. His fingers dug into my hips, holding me in the manner that would enhance both of our pleasures the best.

He knew my body better than I did.

An intense orgasm burst through me, a scream leaving my lips, and my entire body went taut. My nails dug into his back as my pussy spasmed around his shaft. He thrust again; once, twice, before he followed me right over the cliff.

A trailer blocked my view of the East River. Frowning, I hoped the driver would speed up

and pass us by so I could get a glimpse of the view. This was my favorite part of going into the city, going over the Brooklyn Bridge and the views stretching across the river. I kept watching and waiting, but the tractor trailer maintained its speed, parallel with our driver, and I missed it. It was snowing lightly and temperatures were cold, so cold that I heard on the news that the river froze. But because of this driver, I missed it.

On my way back, I hoped silently. I’d catch it on our way back if it wasn’t too dark.

I glanced over at Luciano to find him watching me. My husband. It still seemed surreal to find myself married. And to this man.

Images of what we had done before we showered to get ready for our date played in my mind, making my cheeks hot. I was sure the blush was permanently stained there with things we’ve done since we got married. He always managed to make me blush. Like a permanent side effect every time he looked at me, touched me, or spoke to me.

Has it only been three months? It felt longer. I never expected to fall for him but here we were. I have fallen in love with my husband. It had been a rough start, an unexpected start, but somehow it had all worked out.

“You are staring at me,” I scolded him on a soft chuckle. “You love it when I watch you.”

I bit on my lower lip, to hide my smile. He was right. Regularly, I hated being the center of attention, but when he watched me, it was different. I felt like the most beautiful woman in the world, and everyone faded out as he stared at me with eyes the color of cool moss in early fall, right after the rain. I loved his eyes. There could be a harshness, a ruthlessness, in them but also such incredible passion. Hopefully, I’d see love glimmer in his hazel gaze one day as well because I knew without a doubt I was falling for my husband, despite our rocky start.

It was his eyes that captured me from the very first moment. The moment our gazes locked across the club, the night of my graduation, he had turned my world upside down. In a good way, despite the fact I didn’t think so at first. The way those hazel eyes watched me, hungrily, made my insides shudder in delight. God, I hoped one day our kids would have his eyes.

My husband was handsome, his face fit for GQ magazine, not a mobster world. Except when he was furious, ready to make his enemies suffer. Then his mobster side came right out. My family was on his revenge list, not that I could blame him. Although I didn’t know what exactly they had done to him, I knew firsthand how cruel, heartless, and evil my grandmother and uncle could be. My uncle, Alphonso Romano, ruined numerous lives, costing many men their precious daughters and their wives.

He almost ruined my life until I found haven in the unlikeliest of people… this ruthless mobster, covered in ink.