The mafia boss is the man of my dreams
He moved with a practiced pace, peeling my clothes away until I was bare beneath him.
He wasted no time, his lips trailing fire down my body. Between my cleavage, over my stomach, lingering at my waist. I could feel the throb of anticipation, a desperate hunger for him to do more. Just as he moved lower, just as the tension reached a breaking point—my eyes snapped open with a violent gasp.
Knight was there. He was hovering over me, his hands on my shoulders, looking concerned.
The sensation from the dream hadn't evaporated; it had surged. Without thinking, fueled by the adrenaline and the lingering heat, I reached up, wrapped my arms around his neck, and smashed my lips against his.