Claimed By The Mafia Don (Ariella and Asher) novel Chapter 359

ARIELLA

When Asher is finally, fully seated inside me, the bed groans beneath our combined weight. He pulls back out just as slowly, and the friction is enough to make my head swim.

He’s doing this on purpose; I can see the intent in his eyes. He’s paying me back for every stolen glance and silent challenge at the dinner table today.

"Please," I beg, my hips rising off the sheets to meet him as he rolls into me once more. "Please, Asher."

"What do you want, babby?" he asks against my throat. I can feel the frantic flutter of my pulse against his lips.

"Faster," I breathe, the word catching on an exhale. "I need you faster."

He chuckles, a low, vibration-heavy sound that I feel in my own chest as he lets his weight dip just enough for our skin to graze. The friction of my breasts against his pecs is an agonizing tease.

"Asher," I whine, my composure shredding.

My nails sink into his shoulders, drawing blood this time, desperate for a solid anchor in the storm he’s creating. He pulls out with agonizing slowness, and I can’t help the way my muscles clamp around him, trying to keep him from leaving.

"Patience," he chides, and I can hear the smirk in his voice. "You remember telling me about patience earlier right?" He asks wickedly as looks down at me, trapping me in his gaze.

My eyes are locked on his, wide and frantic.

"I need… I need…" My eyelids flutter shut.

The world is spinning, reduced to the point where we are joined.

"What do you need, babby? Tell me." he asks, his voice like velvet over gravel.

He thrusts just a fraction faster, just enough to push me toward a ledge he won't let me fall over yet. I open my mouth, but the air in my lungs has turned to liquid. The words won't come.

"Say it," he demands.

He bottoms out, a deep, soul-shaking impact, before retreating at that same maddening, unhurried pace.

"I need…you," I swallow hard, my throat dry. "I need you to go faster."

My gaze is loose and unfocused when I find him again. He looks like he’s about to laugh, though the tension in his jaw tells me he’s suffering just as much as I am.

"I should fuck you for hours, keep you here like this for days" he admits, and the sheer possessiveness in his tone makes my blood boil.

"Please let me fuck me faster.... Make me come!" I writhe, my skin scoring his. "I'll be good. I'll listen. I'll..... Please, God, Asher."

That’s it. That's the moment I feel the shift in him, the snap of his restraint.

"Fuck," he says, a jagged sound. "What are you doing to me?"

Then the slow torture ends when he whispers in my ear. "You know exactly what your doing, my perfect undoing."

The bed begins to shake then, hard. The frame clanging rhythmically against the wall like a metronome for our descent. He’s jackhammering against me now, his hips a blur of power. The room is heavy with the scent of us, of the sin we’re weaving together. I arch beneath him, my fingers tangling in the dark sheets, my mind going white as he drives harder, faster.

Our limbs are a tangled mess, our teeth knocking together in a kiss that's more of a battle. It’s primal. I’m no longer Ariella; The Don's wife, Leon's mother or Asher's love..... I’m just a creature of need.

Asher goes on Faster. He’s ravenous, devouring me from the inside out. Every thrust is a strike of lightning. Every nerve ending I possessed seemed to coil and tighten like a high-tension wire until, finally, it snapped. I went rigid, my back bowing off the mattress as my voice broke, crying out his name.

The second wave hit us with a pulsing, electric heat that felt like it was pulling the very soul out of him, and I felt him shatter right along with me. He followed me over that ledge, his own release crashing through him with a raw force that left us both breathless and undone.

He didn't move right away. I could feel the heavy, ragged heat of his breath against my skin, as he stayed pinned against me. I didn't want him to move; I wanted to stay lost in his weight forever. We were slick with sweat, our bodies sliding together as he finally shifted his weight, though he didn't pull away. He stayed there, caging me in, his presence a warm, solid.

Then, I felt his fingers begin to wander, a slow, calm exploration. He traced the tangled mess of my hair against the pillow, his touch feather light and intentional across the line of my collarbone.