Claimed By The Mafia Rogue King (Snow and Cupid) novel Chapter 268

Chapter 268

Snowflakes

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The sound of kissing fills the air, wet and hungry, his lips claiming mine with bruising insistence before I lean in much farther, desperate, aching for more.

I have never realized, truly never understood how violently I needed him, how badly my body has been starving to be fucked raw and thoroughly until this exact moment.

I have missed him with every trembling fiber of my being; I was only waiting, only enduring, until I could finally get him buried deep inside me, foreplay stretching into delirium, then more, then everything.

I lean over tenderly so my swollen, heavy breasts graze his chest through the thin fabric, nipples already painfully tight and dragging against him, not daring yet to beg him to touch.

He deepens the kiss with a low growl that vibrates straight to my clit, making me moan softly into his mouth, the sound muffled and needy.

I begin to lose reality, drifting helplessly into Cupid’s arms, forgetting the blood, the guilt, what had happened and what might still come.

These lips right here, the way he takes me slow, possessive, devastating is so achingly different from Ares’s light kisses, and I want more, God, I want so much more.

I lean closer still, reaching for his chest with reverent fingers, wriggling tenderly until I can slowly wrap my arm around his neck, pressing my breasts harder against him so he can feel how stiff and sensitive my › nipples have become.

He keeps kissing me, devouring, tongue stroking deep, then gently, agonizingly he begins to withdraw, pulling back.

At last he breaks the kiss, leaving my mouth wet, swollen, and searching. I lift my lashes to search his eyes, confusion and lust warring inside me.

“Get off,” he murmurs, voice so soft it should be tender, but the cold chill that races down my spine tells me otherwise.

Those two words yank me violently back to reality and I slowly, Reluctantly pull away, thighs trembling as I create space between us.

I should have known. Weeks of silence, no calls, him showing up tonight like a ghost, it was never going to erase what he saw, what he scented on ine.

I sigh shakily, watching as he sets his jaw, the fleeting warmth I glimpsed when I first opened the door vanishing, replaced by a stern, unreadable mask that makes my stomach twist.

Silence falls thick and heavy between us. I sigh again, shaky, knowing exactly what’s wrong.

“I… I will get some dinner from the kitchen,” I murmur, rising too quickly, practically fleeing to catch my ragged breath and stop the tears threatening behind my eyes. He hasn’t looked at me. He didn’t even

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Chapter 268

notice the sadness pooling in my gaze.

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I stand frozen at the kitchen entrance when I hear his movements, boots on hardwood, the soft rustle of fabric. I turn and walk back to see him preparing to leave. He’s already shrugged into the jacket he’d hung so carefully earlier.

“I thought you were sleeping over,” I say, voice small as I step fully into the living room, but he doesn’t pause, doesn’t even glance up while he adjusts his collar.

“No.” He finally looks at me after he’s done. “Good night.”

He turns toward the door, almost reaching it when the words spill out before I can cage them.

“I’m sorry.” He freezes mid–step. “Cupid, I… I know I did wrong and I am sorry. I shouldn’t have gone to Ares no matter how much I lost my memory. It’s my fault.”

He stands motionless for a long heartbeat before turning slowly toward me and giving one curt nod.

“It’s fine. I understand it’s not your fault. You forgot and the moment you saw me you remembered…” He looks at me in heavy silence before confessing, voice rougher now. “But my werewolf is mad at you. Possessive. He’s not going to forgive and forget so easily. I should go before he becomes too aggressive.”

He reaches for the door knob again but I’ve already crossed the room in three quick strides to block his path, chest heaving, pulse thundering in my throat.

He looks down at me, brow creased, wondering. In answer I spin, fingers trembling, and lock the door with a decisive click.

“I… know the passcode. You can’t keep me here,” he says quietly.

I nod, exhaling shakily.

“Let’s resolve this, Cupid. It’s my birthday. Please stay. Hmm?”

I can see the war inside him. He is restraining himself so tightly I can almost hear the leash straining. I don’t know whether he’s stopping himself from leaving… or from throwing me against the nearest wall and taking what’s his.

At last he looks at me one more time, then turns and settles heavily onto the couch. I exhale a trembling breath, uncertain what comes next.

Slowly I walk toward the couch and settle beside him. My eyes flicker up to the TV, the news has taken over every channel. The headline screams in bold red.

DARK ALLEY CASE.

Grainy footage from that night loops endlessly, faces blurred, but the violence unmistakable.

“It’s official, Cupid,” I murmur softly to him. “It’s open.”

He doesn’t speak for a long stretch. Then he reaches over, casual, as though he hadn’t just tried to walk out

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Chapter 268

and brushes a stray lock from my neck, exposing the vulnerable nape.

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His fingertip trails there with torturous tenderness before sliding lower, cupping the full, aching weight of my breast.

He squeezes firm, deliberate, possessive, his thumb dragging once across the diamond–hard peak of my nipple, sending a white–hot jolt straight to my core before he pulls back to watch me melt under his touch.

Like someone spelled, I become helpless, shifting closer, thighs parting just enough, surrendering completely.

I know he owns the night now. I know he will mark me in every filthy, permanent way possible.

“I’m sorry, Cupid,” I whisper again, lips brushing his.

He searches my eyes for a long, silent moment, then nods once. He leans back into the cushions and pulls me down with him, fingers threading gently through my hair, stroking, soothing, claiming.

For a while we simply stay like that. bodies pressed, heat building until I can’t resist anymore.

I tilt my face and kiss his lips again, slow and deep, letting my palm glide down the hard plane of his abdomen until I can brush over the thick, rigid length of his cock straining behind denim.

He doesn’t react, doesn’t thrust up into my hand. Instead he pulls softly away from the kiss to turn his attention to the news flickering across the screen.

I sigh softly and follow his gaze, resting my head on his strong arm. Then I find his hand, guide his broad palm to my bare thigh, rubbing it slowly against my heated skin until finally he begins to move on his

own.

His fingers glide higher, deliberate, brushing the damp edge of my panties. I shiver hard, already so wet that the fabric clings obscenely.

He traces the soaked seam once, twice, feeling how swollen and slick I am for him. My nipples tighten to the point of pain beneath my shirt as his thumb finally circles my clit through the thin cotton, lazy, maddening pressure that makes my hips lift instinctively, chasing more.

He keeps watching the screen, expression unreadable, but his hand never stops sliding, petting, teasing the drenched cleft until my thighs tremble and my breath comes in soft, broken whimpers against his neck

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Chapter 269