Forced To Be The Mafia King's Bride (by Oma Green) novel Chapter 234

Gianna's POV

Then he pushed two fingers inside me in one smooth thrust, and I screamed.

"Fuck!" The word tore from my throat, loud and desperate through the headset.

My back arched off the seat, my hips jerking forward to take him deeper.

"Oh Yes," he breathed, his voice strained. "You're so tight. I can feel you clenching around my fingers."

He pulled out slowly, then thrust back in, and my nails dug into the leather seat. His fingers were thick, stretching me, filling me, and when he curled them inside me, hitting that spot that made my vision go white, I couldn't hold back the moan that ripped from my chest.

"Dante, oh God, please..."

"Please what?" His thumb found my clit while his fingers pumped inside me, and the dual sensation made my thighs shake. "Tell me what you need."

"More, I need, fuck..." I couldn't form coherent words anymore. Could only feel the relentless thrust of his fingers, the way his thumb circled my clit with perfect, maddening pressure.

"Look at you," he growled, his eyes fixed on my face. "Taking my fingers so well. Riding my hand like you're desperate for it."

Oh, I was desperate. My hips were moving on their own now, grinding against his hand, fucking myself on his fingers shamelessly.

The wet sounds of his fingers moving inside me filled the cockpit, obscene and perfect.

"That's it, pretty doll. Use my hand. Take what you need." His fingers thrust harder, faster, his thumb pressing firm circles on my swollen clit. "You're so close. I can feel you tightening around me."

He was right. The pressure was building and spreading through my thighs. My whole body was trembling, every nerve ending on fire.

"Dante, I'm... I'm going to..."

"Come for me," he commanded. "Right now. Come all over my fingers."

His fingers curled again, rubbing that spot inside me continuously while his thumb worked my clit, and I was right there, right on the edge, my thighs shaking, my back arching, pleasure building to an unbearable peak.

A loud, insistent beeping cut through the cockpit.

"Fuck!" Dante's hand immediately withdrew, and the loss was so sudden, so devastating, that I actually sobbed.

"No, Dante, please..."

His face hardened as his hands were on the controls now. "Hold on."

The helicopter dipped, and my heart lurched.

I watched through pleasure-hazed eyes as his hands moved rapidly over the controls, adjusting, correcting.

The beeping stopped, but turbulence shook us, rattling my bones and making my heart race with genuine fear.

"What's happening?" My voice was high, panicked, my body still throbbing with denied release.

"Wind shear. I've got it." His voice was clipped, focused entirely on flying now.

The muscles in his forearms flexed as he gripped the controls. "I've got it."

The helicopter steadied after a few tense moments, but Dante kept both hands firmly on the controls.

The sunglasses hid his eyes, but everything about his posture screamed frustration and arousal. The bulge in his jeans was massive, straining against the fabric.

I sat there, trembling, aching, my pants still undone, and my clit was throbbing, swollen and desperate. I'd been so painfully close, and now I was just... hollow.

My body was screaming for the release he'd denied me.

"Dante..." I whimpered, and I didn't even care how pathetic I sounded.

"I know." His voice was strained, rough. "Fuck, baby, I know."

My hand started to move toward my pants, toward the ache that wouldn't stop.

"Don't." His voice was stern. "Don't you fucking dare."

My hand froze. "But..."

"Zip up your pants."

"Dante, please..."

"Now, Gianna." There was no softness in his tone. "If you touch yourself right now, I will actually crash this fucking helicopter. Because I won't be able to stop watching you, and we will die."

I chuckled, shaking my head, knowing that was a possibility.

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