This mafia forbidden romance is one you WON’T REGRET!
Regretfully Yours by Sunniva Dee releases on APRIL 17th
Keep reading for an EXCERPT!
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Our relationship was a sin, they said, but how can it be a sin to love so deeply?
She shouldn’t have listened to them.
Shouldn’t have left us behind.
You can’t help whom you love, and without Silvina, I didn’t give a damn.
A mafia prince without a cause is a rebel with nothing to lose.
My brother owned an adult entertainment studio.
He wanted me nowhere near it. Thankfully, his competition did.
I auditioned. Landed a contract.
It’s how I took my sins to a new level, my up-yours to la famiglia.
Until Silvina was kidnapped, and my world was thrown upside down.
EXCERPT:
“You know what I love most?” I opened one pearly pink button at a time down her shirt. Once I was done, I spread the shirt open so her simple white bra was the only thing covering her beautiful little breasts. Between them, her ribs showed beneath olive flesh, small ridges lifting and sinking while she waited for my next move.
I let my eyes run over her, starting with her eyes, moving down to the center of her chest. I strayed to the left, right above the rim of her bra, and saw what will always make the world fade around me.
Her heart.
Steadily speeding up, it thudded against her ribs, meeting me with the worship I felt for her. I ripped my shirt off. Leaped to the door and locked it. My urgency made her laugh, and I loved, loved making her laugh.
“You’re killing me,” I whispered. Slowly, I lowered myself until I fitted my heart against hers. Heavy, I kept us joined, my heart absorbing her rhythm. We breathed together, and kissing her neck, I reveled in the sensation of her love against my skin.
“Do you feel me?” I asked. With my lips, I tickled her ear. I moved a lock of hair away with my tongue, making her husk out a laugh again.
“You’re obsessed with hearts,” she whispered, funny. Serious.
“Can you? I feel you.” I thrusted my cock against her thigh. Too low, I didn’t hit her core, but that was okay. I’d do that soon anyway. For now, it was our hearts that concerned me. I wanted us to share this. Her rhythm thrummed through my chest, and I wanted it to carry into every bone of my body.
“You make me breathe too fast.”
I pulled up to look into her eyes. Mischievous, they backed up the blush of her cheeks.
“You like me on top of you. Admit it.”
“Okay.”
“I heard that. You’re panting.” I pulled her lower lip into my mouth, and she arched her back from the mattress, meeting my thrusts.
“Give me more.” Her words were the hottest sighs stirring each ounce of me into action. Still, I held back. There was nothing like those seconds of insanity, of knowing the pleasure to come with the one person that was made for you only.
My Silvina. My Ina. Ina mia.
“See, I can’t do that. There are rules, you know,” I said.
“And what are those?” Always in sync with me, her voice was playful too.
“You don’t know?” I licked along the fleshy tip of her lower lip, dipping inside and finding her tongue. I sucked on her mouth, savoring our kiss until she moaned out her impatience with me. God, I loved her impatience.
I rolled her over so she was sprawled on top of me. “The rule is that our hearts have to beat together.”
“They do. They do. Come on, baby.”
“Your heart beats perfectly against me, but you haven’t felt mine yet.” I pressed her closer, aligning us, sneaking one hand inside the rim of her skirt, wiggling it under the lining of her panties. I pressed downward until I had one delicious ass cheek cupped in my palm. “God, I love you so much.”
“I feel your heart every day.”
“Only when you sleep on it. But now. Feel it now.”
She squirmed, and I loosened my arms so she could shift downward like she wanted to. The top of Ina mia’s head reached my Adam’s apple, the bliss-filled pain of her shifting downward made me groan.
Winded, she puffed out her amusement, and I forgot to breathe as she stilled over me, ear flat against the left side of my chest. Exhaling quietly, she listened, and in that moment, everything I’d ever felt for her congregated as a pack of dynamite in my chest.
“Anything?” I whispered.
At first, she didn’t answer. My hand moved, enjoying the dip between her thinnest, softest rib and her waist. I closed my eyes. It wasn’t the first time we’d worried about our future. It wouldn’t be the last. But it might have been the first time I realized that each moment with her could be our last.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Your heart is talking to me.”
“What’s it saying?”
“All the things.”
I let out a snort. “All the things, huh? Is it happy? Sad? Mad? Oh, it’s mad.”
“Nah. Your heart is in love.”
“Really?” I collected the long, thick strands of hair spread over her back in a makeshift ponytail. Then, I angled her face toward me. “With what?”
“With mine.”
“Che sorpresa.”
As an author, I pen flawed characters. I seek the flip side where the soul hides, and once there, I want to be pulled out of my comfort zone by stories that take on a life of their own.I’ve committed paranormal and young adult books. I’ve done contemporary romance verging on erotica, and I’ve dabbled in supernatural mystery. But my heart is anchored in new adult of the true kind: unapologetic young adult that’s all grown up, with conflicts and passions familiar to college-aged readers and people who remember those days like they happened last night.
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Website: https://authorsunnivadee.com/
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How to kick off a great summer in the Hamptons:
Who knew things could get even darker and dirtier in New Orleans? New York Times bestselling author Meghan March introduces the Savage Prince of the city, the man you never want to meet. 
A New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author of over twenty novels, Meghan March has been known to wear camo face paint and tromp around in woods wearing mud-covered boots, all while sporting a perfect manicure. She’s also impulsive, easily entertained, and absolutely unapologetic about the fact that she loves to read and write smut. Her past lives include slinging auto parts, selling lingerie, making custom jewelry, and practicing corporate law. Writing books about dirty talking alpha males and the strong, sassy women who bring them to their knees is by far the most fabulous job she’s ever had.
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Born in New York and raised in Southern California, Meghan has grown into a sassy, peanut butter eating, blonde haired swearing, animal hoarding lady. She is known to bust out and dance if “It’s Raining Men” starts beating through the air and heaven forbid you get a margarita in her, protect your legs because they may be humped.
A hot and hilarious new standalone from New York Times bestseller Kendall Ryan.
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