Claimed By The Mafia Don (Ariella and Asher) novel Chapter 371

ARIELLA

His hand tightened slightly in mine.

“We increased the security measures and Everyone’s more alert now.”

His voice dropped, something darker settling in it.

“I just hope that the next time he tries anything… or they try anything....” His eyes locked onto mine. “I’m there to get them before they succeed.”

“You will, baby… You will. You will find them, and you’re going to make them pay for all the blood lost. For scaring us, for scaring our son. You’re going to make them pay.”

“You know I will,” he said, already pulling back towards me, kissing me again.

He guided me down onto the bed, and in a few seconds, his hands were everywhere. Our clothes were discarded without thought, and he looked at me softly, sweetly. like I was something he needed, something he loved. I wrapped my legs around his hips, pulling myself flush against the hard, solid lines of his body and could feel the searing heat radiating from him.

When his fingers brushed my cheek and tangled into my hair, I leaned into his touch, my breath hitching as he tilted my head back. His kiss was a slow, deliberate claim, his tongue tracing the seam of my lips until I parted for him, sinking into the taste of him. For a moment, he just stared down at me as shadow crossed his face, that fierce, protective look I’d come to recognise. But then his eyes were back on mine, and the world narrowed to just us.

His touch turned to worship as His lips travelled from my mouth to the sensitive line of my throat, then lower, until the cool air was replaced by the damp heat of his mouth against my breast. I gasped, my back arching as he teased my nipples, his tongue tracing them until they were pebbled and aching.

Then, his hand moved. I felt his fingers slide along my side, slipping beneath the silk of my thighs. I was already so slick, so ready for him. When he parted me, seeking the heat at my core, a low whimper escaped my throat. I watched him, dazed, as he drew his hand back, his fingers glistening with my own wetness. He pressed them to my lips, painting them shiny, and I instinctively opened my mouth, tasting the desire on my own skin.

"I would die for you," his eyes seemed to say, and I believed him. I did. More than anyone in the entire world.

He leaned over me again, his mouth devouring mine while his hand returned to the ache between my thighs. He stroked the length of me, over and over, a lazy, torturous rhythm that made my blood sing. When he finally pushed a finger inside, the fullness was a shock of pure pleasure. I couldn't help it, my moans began to rise, echoing in the quiet room. Then he added a second finger, and my internal muscles clamped tight around him, reacting to the stretch, the friction, the absolute rightness of him being there.

My hips arched off the bed of their own accord, seeking more, seeking him, as the world began to spiral into a haze of heat and need. I was lost in it, my head thunking back against the pillows as I felt his gaze devouring me. He changed the rhythm as He sped up, the heel of his palm rhythmic and heavy against my clit, sending jolts of electricity straight to my core.

I couldn't breathe. My mouth fell open in a silent plea before a ragged cry tore from my throat. I reached down, my fingers clamping around his wrist, not to pull him away, but to anchor him there, buried deep inside me as the world fractured. The orgasm hit like a tidal wave of heat making my internal muscles squeeze him until I was certain I’d never let go.

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