Page 190 of Obsessed by My Ex's Mafia Uncle

“Robert…” Her brows pull together.

“Yeah?”

“Stop that.” She points at me accusingly.

“What?”

“You touch me like I’m antique pottery.”

Despite myself, I laugh softly.

“Baby…”

“No.” She shakes her head. “I’m serious.”

I sigh, nodding once, but I still don’t move to do anything about it.

“Kiss me,” she nudges softly, rising onto the tips of her toes like she’s trying to bridge the distance herself.

“Okay, baby.” My voice comes out rougher than intended.

I lean down and kiss her.

The second my mouth touches hers, something shifts.

Christine cups my face instantly, pulling me deeper into it, turning what should’ve been soft into something starving. Her lips part against mine with a small sound that shoots straight through my spine, and my hand braces automatically against the sink behind her because Christ.

I feel her everywhere.

Against my chest.

My stomach.

My pulse.

Her body presses into mine like she’s trying to climb beneath my skin, and the heat of her slides through me so fast it almost hurts.

My cock jerks hard inside my trousers before I can stop it, desire flooding my bloodstream so abruptly that I have to grip her waist to stay anchored.

She kisses like she’s angry with me for surviving carefully.

“Christine…” I breathe into her mouth.

She doesn't let up, but I feel the exact second frustration starts replacing desire in her expression.

Then she pulls back abruptly.

“No.” She shakes her head once.

“No?” My brows knit.

“I’m tired of this.”

“Christine…”

“I don’t want careful.” Her voice cracks around the edges now, emotion fraying through it. “I don’t want soft hands andpity.” Her fingers fist against my chest. “I need to feel like myself again.”

“You think I pity you?” My tone is colder than intended.