His Mafia Throne

Chapter 3

Max

Office. 1:47 AM.

She knocked once.

Then walked in without waiting. Of course. Aurora never knew when to stop. Never understood how close I was to the edge.

— “Max… I can’t sleep.”

Her voice was soft. Slightly husky. The kind of voice that steals the breath from your lungs. She was still wearing my shirt — the one she refused to return. Only now, it was unbuttoned lower. Much lower. And her bare legs stepped across the cold floor like she didn’t feel a thing. But I…

I felt everything.

— “You shouldn’t be here,” I said quietly, without looking at her.

My eyes were fixed on the paper in front of me, but the words had long since blurred into nothing. All I could register was her scent — fresh, warm, almost sweet, but with something underneath that made me want to destroy everything.

— “Are you mad at me?” she asked, stepping closer.

— “No, Aurora. I’m mad at myself.”

I looked up.

Mistake.

Her eyes. Wide. Curious. Laced with something that wasn’t quite innocence anymore, but not experience either. It was pure temptation. And it was meant for me.

And I knew I couldn’t stop this anymore.

— “Tell me to leave,” she whispered.

I said nothing.

— “Tell me not to come closer, Max.”

She stepped forward.

And I… I didn’t say a thing.

She was only inches from me now. My shirt falling slightly off one shoulder. Her skin — that perfect, unblemished skin — glowing in the dim light. Her hand rested lightly on the edge of my desk, right next to the file I was pretending to read.

— “Aurora…”

— “I don’t want to run, Max. I want to know what it feels like to be touched by you. I want you to stop running.”

The next moment, my chair slid back, and I was on my feet. No control. No thought. My fists were clenched. My chest tight. I rounded the desk and stood in front of her.

— “You don’t know what you’re asking for,” I growled.

— “Then show me.”

I grabbed her wrists and pushed her back against the edge of the desk. Not rough. But not gentle either. It was that dangerous balance between control and madness.

Her eyes widened.

— “Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to watch you every day and not do what I’m about to do now?”

She didn’t speak. Just bit her lip. Hard. Almost to the point of bleeding.

And that undid me.

I cupped her face, lifted her chin, and crashed my mouth onto hers. Deep. Hungry. Wild. There was no gentleness in that kiss. No promises. Just release. Her lips responded instantly — trembling, warm, desperate.

My hands slid down her thighs and lifted her onto the desk. She gasped. A small, sharp sound. It undid me further.

— “Tell me to stop,” I whispered against her neck.

— “Don’t stop.”

I pulled the shirt from her shoulders. Let it fall.

And paused — just to look.

To memorize everything.

The heat of her skin under my palms was maddening. I let go. Completely. My hands became promises. My mouth became answers. I kissed every breath, every moan, every gasp. Her body pressed against mine like it had always belonged there.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t slow. It was a storm finally breaking. A fire finally set free.

And when she arched under me and whispered my name…

I knew.

There was no going back. A part of me belonged to her now. Forever.

---

After.

She was lying across my desk, her head on my arm. Breathing hard. Eyes closed.

I watched her. Silent.

Part of me wanted to hold her. Protect her. The other part wanted to push her out of the room and lock the door forever.

Because tonight… I gave in.

And now I couldn’t look at her without remembering what it felt like.

What she tasted like.

What it meant.

— “Max… are you going to run again?”

I stood. Pulled my shirt over her shoulders.

— “Go upstairs, Aurora.”

— “Max…”

— “Please. Just go.”

And I stayed there, alone.

With the wrecked desk.

And her taste still on my lips.

Because I knew…

Once wouldn’t be enough.

And I was starting to destroy her.