Page 136 of Mafia Obsession

“Lourdes, fucking fuck,” I grind out, thrusting faster and harder.

The sound of skin slapping competes with her moans that fill the room. With every round of thrusts, she gets louder.

“Let those new guards hear you being driven crazy by my cock. Train them to take it.”

“Ares, I’m coming.” Her pussy tightens painfully and pleasurably around my cock as she climaxes.

A shadow of us dances on the far wall. I’m arched over her, her legs wrapped around my waist.

“You just got impossibly tight,” I groan. “I’m spiraling.”

I press my forehead against hers, our eyes locked while Imeet my downfall.

“You can come inside me,” she says. “I’m due to get my period any day. I’m actually late.”

Wait, what?

“Fuck…” Muscles burning, head spinning, I give a few more final thrusts, hoping I don’t fucking die in her arms. But if I do, I can’t imagine anywhere else I want to depart this world.

“Oh God,” she moans, breathing shakily.

“That’s me, I’m your God of War. Now surrender to me.” I watch her come again, and it sends me over the edge.

My cock pulses, and warm cum fills her tight, convulsing cunt. Covered in a layer of sweat, I drop down and hold her, feeling her slick body.

“Ares.” She gazes at me, her face flushed. “I love you.”

I exhale slowly. She’s an emotional complication I didn’t plan for.

“What you feel right now is relief,” I say, dying, spiraling. “Safety. Gratitude.”

“I know what I feel. Yes, it’s part of that—” She stops when my lips press lightly on her mouth.

My gaze locks on her eyes. “Don’t confuse this with something else. I care about you. I’m not sure I can say it’s love.”

She blinks and then looks away.

I kiss her fingers, the rings to remind her that no matter what I feel, she’s mine. “Get some sleep. I need to show my face at Club Wicked.”

I untangle myself from her to get out of bed.

And I don’t look back.

Chapter 55

Ares

It’s been ten days since Kirill Volkov killed my guards. If I’ve made any significant impression in the mafia word, he’s expecting me to level Winterhall or just gun him down on the damn street.

No. I’d rather have him wait for my attack. Day after day. Night after night.

Waiting is the hardest part.

After he blew me off that night a couple of months ago, our meetings broke down. I’ve not been in the same room with him since.

For a week, Daria tracked his movements, so we were able to stay one step ahead of him.

When she appears at my office door with a smirk on her usually serious face, I drop what I’m doing and take notice.