59

FALLON “Relax, Fallon. It’s not his blood,” Leone’s voice cuts through the fear, steady and sure. Milo’s smirk is irritating and reassuring as he strides toward me. “Worried about me, bambina?” His Italian rolls off his tongue, smooth and mocking. “Yes.” I roll my eyes even as my pulse begins to settle. “Because I would miss one of the men holding me captive,” I say sarcastically. He winks – an infuriating gesture that draws an unwilling smile from me as he comes over to us. “Stranger things have happened.” His lips press against mine, a soft kiss that I answer immediately only for Milo to groan, his hand gripping my throat as he deepens it, his tongue invading every inch of my mouth and my nails dig into Leone’s chest making him hiss as arousal floods me. But it is over too soon. He pulls away with a chuckle, heading for the shower. “Yeah, you missed me,” he taunts over his shoulder while I try to catch my breath. I huff, looking down at Leone beneath me, finding his expression unexpe