Owning the Mafia Don

Lucien

Settling down beside her, he tugged her body to his, bringing her awake with his rough imperative caresses. Much as he knew he should rest, and his body still felt sore, he could not resist her. His co*k was already hard and eager, wanting to ravish her.

She whimpered,

‘Lucien, I am tired…’ but he had been denied her body for too long.

“I need you, woman,’ he grunted as he began to work on the buttons of her shirt. She opened her eyes, smiling lazily, knowing that her Mafia Lord could not be denied. Her womanhood was already wet, fuelled by the desire in his eyes, the expression of want in his eyes.

“You are hurt,’ she whispered, stroking his bearded cheek gently but her nipples were taut when they sprung out of the confining bra.

He gave a thick grunt and bent his head to suckle them, grazing them with his teeth, relishing the sounds of longing she made as she automatically arched her back, begging for more.

“I am not going to be gentle, woman.’ he growled warningly, one hand going to jerk out his thick, heavily veined member. She sighed as he plundered her breasts, taking turns to bite the soft mounds as she moaned while her small hands moved restlessly over his back and chest.

She knew she would bear the marks of his violent lovemaking in the morning but her body was responding eagerly to his touch. With a hoarse grunt, he thrust into her wetness and she cried out at the sudden, forceful entrance. It hurt, after all, it had been long since he had claimed her body and then, a tingling spread through her as her muscles welcomed his thrusts.

Her sex welcomed the co*k ramming into her, her muscles wrapped around him, squeezing his member, obediently, gratefully.

Her body arched and she felt an orgasm coming on as he took her mouth, his tongue thrusting, a rough hand tweaking her nipples and she raked her hands down his back, helpless to prevent the primitive call of her answering desire as he pounded her urgently. Possessing her again.C0ntent © 2024 (N/ô)velDrama.Org.

‘You are only Mine.’ he rasped savagely as his balls tightened, and he knew he was going to eject his seed into her aching, fertile womb.

‘Yours,” she panted, “only yours.”

And he roared in triumph as he came in her.

*

He fell asleep almost at once, after shedding the jacket he had been wearing. Pulling his wife’s warm body to his own, he let his hands trail over her breasts and hips but she was too tired to respond. Snuggling up to him, she moaned softly and he grunted. Although his member lay limp against her soft belly now, he knew he was sated. The medicines the doctor had prescribed made him woozy and he sank into a deep, yet restful sleep.

When he came awake, it was to the aroma of coffee. He washed and joined his woman in the main cabin. Proserpina turned her face up to him as he strode in and sat down beside her, stamping his ownership on her with a hard, possessive kiss.

‘Almost there,’ she said softly, eyes dancing. “I am so waiting to see the children.’

“Our children, woman,’ he growled, leaning across to nip at her lower lip. Schwartz made an exasperated noise.

“Mate, can you wait till you get home?’ he cried but he was grinning too. Phillippe was sitting, still half asleep. Proserpina, apparently, had insisted on his having a cup of hot chocolate and the boy looked as though he was enjoying himself, thought Lucien, his large hands cupped around the mug, relishing it.

The young man felt the Boss watching him.

His eyes darted to the Boss who was observing him coolly and the youth’s face flushed.

“Sir,’ he stammered but Proserpina intervened.

“Drink your cocoa, Philippe,” she said sweetly, placing a hand on her husband’s arm, warning him silently not to say anything to the boy. Lucien glanced at her, a brow quirked in amusement but he said nothing as he turned to Schwartz.

He had business to attend to.

*

‘Paval,’ he said grimly, ‘ Father Paval is still out there. And that fellow, the one with the single eye. Dmitri’s nephew.’

Proserpina shivered. The mention of the hated man’s name made her heart sink.

Lucien pulled her to him and they sat, silently as the aircraft began its descent.

*

In a few hours’ time, they were driving up to the mansion. Proserpina was excited, her body stiff as she leaned forward, eager to be with her children. Lucien watched her in amusement and realized that he was just as relieved, as he texted his various associates, glad to be back in his territory.

As they rounded the drive, he noticed the gardener, Benedict Diaz, his tall, lanky frame standing to attention as the posse of cars swept up the driveway. Philippe had been made to sit with them and he turned his head excitedly to wave at his astonished father. Schwartz had tried to excuse himself but Proserpina had insisted that he join them later that evening for dinner. And so, he had continued to the house, knowing full well that the bedroom he occupied in the mansion must have already been aired and kept ready for him. He smiled. Proserpina took charge of some things and made him feel like family!

Aiyana had chosen to make her way back to her home. No one had insisted that she accompany them; Aiyana was always aloof and did not really fit in with the boisterous atmosphere at the Delano mansion. Kids were not her thing. When Proserpina had asked her to join them later in the evening for dinner, she had looked at the brown eyes of the lovely woman who was making the request. Proserpina took her cool hand and said in her soft way,

“Please, Aiyana, it would mean a lot to me, to us…”

Almost reluctantly, Aiyana had nodded but she had been secretly pleased, Proserpina was too kind to refuse.

*

Melissa, the mistress of Tristan Lord, hung back in the well-lit corridor hesitantly.

She watched as the car door flew open and a beautiful woman rushed out to grab the children in her arms, laughing and crying as she scooped them in her arms.

Melissa’s children clung to her.

How would Proserpina Delano react when she found another uninvited guest in her home, she thought.