Claimed By The Mafia Don (Ariella and Asher) novel Chapter 194

Asher lifts me up from the kitchen island in his arms like I’m a doll and walks up the stairs to the bedrooms as if he is familiar with the place. I am about to ask him just that when he grunts,

"Which one's yours?"

I point towards my bedroom with my finger and as soon as we’re inside the said room, he throws me on the bed. I bounce on the mattress, then attempt to sit up. I’m slammed back down when his weight crashes on top of me and his fingers wrap around my throat.

“I still want you. I don't think I can have enough of you.....”

Pressure builds in my stomach at the mere feel of his body on top of mine, dwarfing me, dominating, intimidating. It's absolutely addictive. I didn’t realise how much I missed him until his skin touched mine again. Of course, I want him again too. What kind of a question is that??

My heart races, my blood roars, but all I can do is stare at him. I sit up so I’m cradling his thighs and undo the button of his shirt with trembling fingers, and he lets me.

“Fuck.” He rips open his shirt and I gasp as the buttons fly all around and roll onto the ground.

He shoves away his trousers and briefs while balancing me on top of him. I fumble with my zipper and awkwardly pull my dress and thong off.

We strip in record time until we’re both stark naked.

I love the intense way he stares at me. My skin grows warm at the dark desire, the red-hot passion, and the need to touch me that shines bright in his eyes. Asher tugs me back onto his lap and his huge erection nudges against my arse. But I’m distracted by something else. I glide my fingers over his broad shoulders and smooth muscles, and I realise just how unfair it is that I haven’t seen him for months on end. He's perfection wrapped in human skin and I want to touch him for eternity.

He lets me rub my palms over his pectoral muscles, along his abs.... when my fingers land on a red scar near his lower abs. A gasp falls from my lips as I study the large slash.

“W-what happened?” I look up at him and he stares back with an edge.

“Not important,” he says without emotion.

Grabbing both his sides, I wiggle back and lower my head to place a kiss on the angry skin and the only imperfection in his muscled superiority. Asher’s fingers slide from my nape to my skull as he grabs a handful of my hair and pulls me back up. I drop a kiss on his shaven jaw, his throat, over his Adam’s apple.

“You smell so good. I love how it’s so intoxicating.”

His cock grows thicker against me, and I grind against him, lust intensifying in my core until I’m humping his length. My arousal and his precum mix and glide, lubricating and filling the room with a vulgar sound. My lips brush against his, biting down on them before I speak against it,

“Love your taste, too. It’s addictive.”

He shoves me against him by the hair and thrusts his tongue between my inviting lips. He kisses me like a savage, a Neanderthal, a fucking beast. He kisses me like it’s our first and last. The tension ripples from my lips to the tips of my fingers that I sink into his hair, messing it up a little, trying to get under his skin a little. My need for his touch bursts into fireworks of magenta and red as I wrap my legs around his waist. He kisses me deeper, dirtier, slower, as if he’s savouring me.

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