Not Yours To Claim, My Mafia Ex
His fingers disappeared beneath the silk of her dress, and the second his skin grazed her damp heat, he let out a guttural growl.
"Fuck, you’re soaking for me, baby."
Rosa’s breath hitched, her spine arching as she leaned back on her palms. The friction was an exquisite torture.
"Then what are you going to do about it?" her hooded eyes challenged him.
Luciano let out a dark, low chuckle that vibrated through the table before his fingers drove into action, ruthless and precise.
*
Bab Populer