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47. Made For Me

مؤلف: Priyal Dessai
last update آخر تحديث: 2025-08-25 16:22:59

[CAMI]

“You’ll come again, on my cock this time. And again after that. Until you can’t stand.”

I whimper when he lets go of my hair, my cheek falling to the desk, breathing shakily. Only now I realise it's damp with tears. I actually fucking cried. That’s how good he felt—his tongue.

This has never happened before.

Zeke gives me a minute to breathe, to steady myself. But I feel like I’m floating in a pool of pleasure, thighs still shaking. Then I hear him say, “Tell me to stop, doll,” as his hands return to my hips, spreading my thighs wider again.

I don’t, because I don’t want him to stop. Instead, I almost thank him. He never should have paused either.

He pushes into me slowly, almost tenderly, stretching me around him until I’m clenching the edge of the wet desk, biting down on a cry.

“Fuck, Zeke—”

“That’s it, Camilla,” he groans against my ear. “Say my name like a prayer.”

Every time he pushes in, he pushes deeper, and it’s never enough.

“Look at you,” he breathes, pinning my
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  • Beauty and the Mafia Beast   49. The Cage Without Bars

    [CAMI]I wait until Zeke’s footsteps fade before I drag myself upright. My limbs don’t belong to me anymore—boneless, trembling, liquid from the inside out. The tub that had been a rescue now feels suffocating, like I’m drowning in everything he left behind on me. I need the sting of hot water. I need the shower.Hauling myself over the porcelain edge is a circus act. My thighs wobble, knees nearly buckle, but I get there, palms smacking against the glass wall of the shower as I stumble in. The second the water pelts my skin, hot and clean, it hits me—I’m not drunk, I’m sex-drunk. And this? This sobers me fast.My breathing comes hard, fogging the glass where my forehead presses. My hands stay splayed, braced, because I know I’ll fall without them. And then my fingers trail lower, like my body can’t help itself. I close my eyes, remembering how Zeke’s hands had been everywhere. How he had been everywhere.The desk. My knees burning on that rug. The chair, his body a throne, and me str

  • Beauty and the Mafia Beast   48. Blood, Sweat, Soil

    [ZEKE] By the time I’m done with her, she’s a curled-up mess on the desk, light hair plastered to her face with sweat, chest rising and falling like she’s barely hanging on to her own breath. Good. She should remember exactly what I did to her every time she looks at this fucking desk.I wash up quick in the bathroom, and then splash cold water over my face. It doesn’t do shit. When I step back out, the air still reeks of sex—her wet heat, my sweat, the filth we made together. It clings to the walls, to my lungs. Makes me hard all over again.“Fucking hell,” I mumble to myself. Camilla doesn’t even twitch when I scoop her off the desk, just draws in a slow breath. Limp little doll in my arms, given up to me completely.I open the door and Marco’s there, leaning in the hall. He bows his head but I see the grin on his face. Bastard. She stirs then. Her arm snakes weakly up, hooks around my neck. Her face buries against me, lips brushing skin like she belongs there. I shift her higher

  • Beauty and the Mafia Beast   47. Made For Me

    [CAMI]“You’ll come again, on my cock this time. And again after that. Until you can’t stand.”I whimper when he lets go of my hair, my cheek falling to the desk, breathing shakily. Only now I realise it's damp with tears. I actually fucking cried. That’s how good he felt—his tongue. This has never happened before. Zeke gives me a minute to breathe, to steady myself. But I feel like I’m floating in a pool of pleasure, thighs still shaking. Then I hear him say, “Tell me to stop, doll,” as his hands return to my hips, spreading my thighs wider again. I don’t, because I don’t want him to stop. Instead, I almost thank him. He never should have paused either. He pushes into me slowly, almost tenderly, stretching me around him until I’m clenching the edge of the wet desk, biting down on a cry.“Fuck, Zeke—”“That’s it, Camilla,” he groans against my ear. “Say my name like a prayer.”Every time he pushes in, he pushes deeper, and it’s never enough. “Look at you,” he breathes, pinning my

  • Beauty and the Mafia Beast   46. Worshipped by the Devil

    Content warning: Explicit sexual content. Only read when you’re alone![CAMI]The sound that escapes Zeke’s throat when he hears what I want him to do is not human. He peels me off the wall, stumbles as he guides me to the desk. With the back of his hand, he carelessly pushes the folders from the surface, letting them plop to the floor in a scattered heap. With a smooth tug, he moves the laptop to the very edge, which concerns me, until I notice he still has his other hand across my stomach. I’m more turned on than I’ve ever been and—I swear I’ll never forgive myself… and I swear I don’t fucking care.His hand doesn’t just shove me—it presses, like he’s making a point as my hip clips the edge of his desk and the rest of me folds over it. My palms slap the polished surface, my cheek scraping against the cool wood with a gasp.“Stay there.” His voice is a fucking command, but the way his fingers slide up the back of my neck, curling like a collar, makes it feel like something else enti

  • Beauty and the Mafia Beast   45. The Dangerous Game

    [CAMI]Marco walks ahead of me, his hands tucked into his pockets. He’s too tall, and I stare at the back of his head, trying to glare a hole into it, because how does he manage to appear so relaxed most of the time?He stops in front of a door I haven’t seen before. Not surprising—the villa is so massive it feels endless, like a labyrinth built to swallow me whole. He knocks once.“Come in,” Zeke’s voice carries through.Marco opens the door but doesn’t step inside. He gestures for me to go. For a second, I consider refusing, but I’ve already asked for this. So I step forward.Zeke isn’t alone. Dante’s here, hunched over a laptop, files scattered across the table between them. The glow from the screen paints his face in hard lines. Important mafia business, obviously, and I’m the interruption.Dante gruffs when he sees me. Zeke only glances up, his fist curling, his elbow digging into the table. His gaze pins me in place—a prisoner all over again. I suddenly feel very small. I swall

  • Beauty and the Mafia Beast   44. Unkillable

    [CAMI]I don’t expect Claire to choose to leave.But when the time comes, she doesn’t hesitate. She tells Zeke she wants to leave. And I just stand there, frozen, watching it happen, my brain stumbling over itself because—what the fuck did I think she’d do? Stay? Try to drag me out with her? Fight until we both got slaughtered?I butchered that option myself.I didn’t want to go. I wanted to stay. But now, with Claire turning away from me, refusing to even look at me, I can’t make sense of it. My chest burns. My throat goes raw. What the fuck have I done? I’ve chosen him. I’ve picked Zeke over her, over us. And the truth of that keeps cutting me. The next three days pass in a blur of silence. Claire leaves with Zeke, and when she comes back, she’s a stranger. Her skin is a map of cuts and bruises, her eyes deadened. I try to talk to her, reach for her, beg for something—anything—but she shuts me out, gives me nothing. The cold shoulder. The quiet punishment.And then the time comes f

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