Claimed By The Mafia Rogue King (Snow and Cupid) novel Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Snowflakes

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I slid into the sleek black car, the door gliding shut behind me with a soft, expensive thunk that sealed us into a cocoon of tinted glass and dim amber light.

The interior glowed faintly, dashboard LEDs, the low pulse of the infotainment screen casting shadows that licked across his sharp jawline. The air was thick with leather, cold night, and the heavy, intoxicating bite of his cigarette smoke.

He didn’t look at me right away. He finished his cigarette in slow, deliberate drags, the cherry flaring crimson each time he inhaled, then crushed the butt into the crystal ashtray like he was putting out a small fire inside himself.

Almost a full pack of stubs lay dead in there. He’d been sitting here a long time, waiting.

Only then did he lean back, shoulders rolling against the seat, and fix his stare straight ahead into the dark street. Silent. Brooding. Dangerous.

My pulse thudded in my throat. I clutched my coat tighter around me, but the thin silk of my nightdress underneath might as well have been tissue paper.

I could already feel my nipples tightening against the fabric, traitors announcing themselves before he’d even touched me.

“Why didn’t you just call?” I asked, voice smaller than I wanted. “You didn’t have to come here.”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t even blink. Just turned his head slowly, like a predator finally acknowledging prey and those green eyes locked on me. Unflinching. Hungry.

My breath snagged. Heat flooded my belly, liquid and immediate, pooling low between my thighs. I tried to look away, but I couldn’t.

The weight of that stare stripped me faster than hands ever could. I felt my lips part, felt the throb start in my clit like a second heartbeat.

His gaze dropped deliberate, shameless to my chest. Even through the coat and silk, my nipples strained, aching, begging. I swear he could see them. I swear he could smell how wet I already

was.

“Take it off,” he said. Low. Rough. Not a request and it dawn on me why he have come. He is here because I didn’t accept his request at our last video call.

My heart slammed against my ribs. For one dizzy second I thought about saying no. I’m married. This is wrong. But the word dissolved the moment it formed. Because the truth

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13:07 Fri, Jan 9

Chapter 38

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burned hotter than guilt ever could. I wanted to be bare for him. I wanted him to look. I wanted him to have his way.

My fingers shook as I shrugged the coat from my shoulders. It pooled on the seat behind me.

The silk nightdress clung to my skin, damp already where my breasts pressed against it. My nipples were so hard they hurt, dark rose peaks poking obscenely through the thin fabric..

Cool air kissed them and I shivered, thighs pressing together to ease the ache blooming in my pussy.

He didn’t move. Just watched. Waited.

I reached for the delicate straps, ready to drag them down myself, but his hand was suddenly there, long fingers sliding over mine, stopping me.

Then he took the strap between thumb and forefinger, toying with it, tracing the line of my collarbone, the slope of my shoulder. Never breaking eye contact.

I was panting now, tiny desperate breaths I couldn’t hide. My cunt clenched on nothing, slick and swollen and so empty it was painful.

He hooked one finger under the strap and tugged slowly, deliberately, until the silk slipped off my shoulder and down my arm.

The neckline caught on my nipple for one agonizing second, then gave. My left breast spilled free, heavy and flushed, nipple stiff and glistening from the way I’d been secretly rubbing against my own arm on the walk to the car.

He exhaled, almost a growl. His hand rose, palm open, and cupped me. Not gentle. Possessive. Claiming. His skin was hot, callused, and when his thumb brushed over my nipple I jerked like I’d been shocked, a helpless whimper slipping out.

“Look at me,” he ordered quietly when I lowered my gaze.

I couldn’t. If I looked up he’d see everything. How I was already dripping down my thighs, how my hips wanted to rock against his hand, how my body seem to want more, how I was one stroke away from begging him to fuck me right here in the front seat like a whore.

It all got me wondering if my trauma, ptsd is still intact. Why am I surrendering to a man who looks dangerous?

His fingers closed on my nipple, pinched, rolled, tugged and the thoughts vanished away from my mind. Pleasure stabbed straight to my clit. My head fell back against the seat, mouth open on a silent cry.

“I said look at me.”

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That voice. Gravel and smoke and sin. I forced my eyes open, met his, and the moment I did he pulled the other strap down. Both breasts bared now, trembling with every ragged breath.

The car’s ambient lights painted them gold and shadow, and he stared like he was memorizing every inch.

Then both hands were on me, one cupping each breast, kneading, weighing, thumbs flicking my nipples in perfect unison until I was moaning openly, writhing, thighs spreading without permission.

I could feel how soaked my panties were, the silk clinging to my folds, my clit pulsing so hard I thought I might come just from this.

I leaned it helplessly, falling against him just as he twisted one nipple sharp, cruel pleasure and I cried out, back arching, pussy clenching so hard I felt a rush of wetness slide down to my ass.

I was humping air now, shameless, chasing friction that wasn’t there.

He pulled back just enough to look at my face, eyes glittering. Then he dipped his head and took my nipple into his mouth.

The heat wet, searing heat, the scrape of teeth, the hard suck sent me over. I came almost with a broken sob, hips bucking, breasts shoved deeper into his mouth as wave after wave crashed through me.

My pussy spasmed again and again, soaking through silk, through the seat beneath me. He didn’t even touch me there and I came like a teenager just from his mouth on my tit.

When the tremors finally slowed, he lifted his head. My nipple slipped from his lips with a wet pop, shiny with spit, obscenely red. He looked…satisfied. Proud. Like he’d marked me.

He licked his bottom lip, tasting me still.

His hand slid from my breast down my stomach, fingers slipping under the hem of my nightdress. I whimpered, spreading wider, desperate.

Carefully he leaned over to kiss my lips, and everything else blurs. I surrendered into his arms. completely, my breasts against his chest.

My hips chased him, trying to get more, but he controlled every touch and I was lost, already dripping wet when suddenly his His phone buzzed.

The sound cut through the haze like a blade. Harsh, intrusive. Reality slammed back in.

I looked at the glowing screen on the console.

Chapter 38

Lovecalling…

The name hit me like ice water.

Finished

All the heat drained out of me in a rush. My orgasm, my begging, my spread thighs, everything turned sour and shameful. I yanked my nightdress up, fumbling for my breasts back inside, dragging my coat around me like armor.

“I… I have to go,” I choked out.

His hand was still between my legs, when I was trembling in hurry. He didn’t move to stop me, just watched with that same unreadable stare as I scrambled for the door handle.

The second it opened I stumbled out into the cold night, legs shaking, pussy still throbbing with denied need, tears burning my eyes.

By the time I made it inside and collapsed on the sofa, the truth had carved itself into my chest with a dull, bruising knife.

He had someone he saved as Love.

And I was just the married woman he could make come in under three minutes without even fucking me.

The ache between my legs wouldn’t fade. Neither would the memory of his mouth on my breast, or the way I’d almost begged.

I curled into a ball, coat still clutched around me, and cried, not for my husband, not for my broken vows, but for how completely, stupidly, irreversibly I already is into a man who would never belong to me.

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