Let Me Go, My Mafia Husband (Aria and Alessandro) novel Chapter 637

Chapter 637 Under His Control
I swear I saw the possessiveness swirling in his blue orbs as he stepped closer.

“As you wish, mate,” Zander's voice turned husky, his possessive eyes raking over me as he grabbed my wrist and led me to the training area.

By now, everyone had gathered around the practice area where their alpha was going to train me. Meeting his eyes with confidence, I grabbed the hem of my white top and was about to pull it over my head when he grabbed my hand.

“Don’t!” he ordered sharply. “You can practise in these clothes.”

I smirked. Two could play this game, Alpha.

He didn’t bother covering himself in front of the hungry eyes of the she-wolves, yet he wanted me to stay modest. Such a hypocrite.

“But my clothes will get muddy,” I pouted, letting my voice drop just enough to hint at the mischief dancing in my mind.

“They won’t,” Zander replied curtly, his gaze narrowing. “I’ll be careful.”

Oh, my Alpha—pretending not to care but still caring. It was adorable, really.

“So,” I murmured, tilting my head and letting my fingers trail lazily along my waist, “what’s the first move, Alpha?”

His eyes darkened, the playful spark fading into something more primal, more possessive. His chest expanded with a slow inhale as he stepped closer, towering over me, his shadow swallowing me whole.

“Defense,” he said simply, his voice husky, a delicious rumble that sent a shiver racing down my spine.

“Defense,” I echoed, my lips curling into a teasing smile. “You think I need to defend myself—from you?”

“No,” he replied, his tone low and dangerous. “But from anyone foolish enough to try and take what’s mine.”

Before I could respond, his hands shot out, gripping my wrists with just enough force to command but never hurt. “First rule,” he murmured, his eyes locked on mine, “never let your guard down.”

His touch was electric, his thumbs brushing against my pulse points, making my breath hitch. I could feel the power coiled in his muscles, restrained but oh-so-potent, and it sent heat pooling low in my belly.

“You’re distracted,” he pointed out, leaning in so close that I could feel the warmth of his breath fanning over my face.

“Wonder why,” I managed to say, my voice weaker than I wanted.

His smirk was a devastating mix of arrogance and desire. “Spin.”

Before I could process his command, he twisted me effortlessly, pulling my back flush against his chest. His arm snaked around my waist, anchoring me to him, while his other hand moved to my neck, not squeezing, just holding me in place.

“Try to get free,” he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of my ear, making my knees go weak.

I wriggled, half-heartedly at first, because being pressed against him like this was intoxicating. But then I felt it—the heat radiating from his body, the steady thrum of his heartbeat, the way his grip tightened slightly when I moved just right. It ignited something primal in me, something that wanted to fight, not to escape, but to push him further.

“Is this all you’ve got, mate?” he teased, his voice dripping with dark amusement.

Oh, he was enjoying this. The challenge, the closeness, the way I couldn’t quite decide if I wanted to fight or surrender.

I shifted my weight, using a self-defense move I’d vaguely remembered, and tried to stomp on his foot. He anticipated it, of course, sidestepping smoothly and pulling me closer, so close I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine.