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54. GIULIANNA

Penulis: Archnemesis
last update Terakhir Diperbarui: 2025-06-16 22:38:36
My heart pounded. “Emmanuele, stop...”

“Or what?” He pulled back just enough to smirk at me. “You’ll run to your father? Tell him how I touch you?” His grip tightened. “Or should I tell him first? About you and Matteo? About the little secret you’ve been keeping?”

The threat hung between us, sharp as a blade. I stopped fighting. His grin was triumphant as he leaned in again, his lips trailing down my throat, his free hand sliding up my thigh. I closed my eyes.

Matteo. I thought of him. Of his hands, his voice, the way he used to look at me like I was the only thing that mattered. Emanuele’s fingers reached my core, slipping beneath the fabric of my dress. I bit my lip, refusing to make a sound, but he only laughed, pressing deeper, harder.

“You can pretend all you want,” he whispered, his teeth grazing my ear. “But your body knows who owns it.”

I hated him. I hated how my traitorous body reacted, how the pleasure coiled low in my stomach despite the disgust churning inside me
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  • His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim   64. MATTEO

    The engines rumbled low like wolves growling in the belly of a mountain. Grease and gunpowder hung in the air, thick as tension, clinging to my skin like old sins. The Diavlo Scurri motor club wasn’t a place for men who played by rules it was carved from rebellion and rebuilt by blood. Broken-down muscle bikes lined the gravel lot like armored beasts sleeping under moonlight. Rust streaked the metal like war paint. Chains hung from the sides of garage doors, clinking softly in the wind. The paint on the walls peeled like old scars, revealing decades of dirt and loyalty. Inside, the dim lights cast long shadows across the concrete, cutting through cigarette smoke and haze like blades. The scent of sweat and motor oil was thick in the air, soaked into every splinter of wood, every steel bolt. This was home. This was the altar I prayed to when I forgot how to breathe. And tonight, it would become something else entirely.They were all there. My brothers. My beasts. My grave diggers. Cro

  • His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim   63. MATTEO

    She walked away that night like nothing had happened. As if the taste of her wasn’t still on my tongue, as if my cum wasn’t dripping down the insides of her thighs, soaking the curve between her legs. As if her back hadn’t arched like a bow against that tree, her fingers clawing into bark as I drove myself so deep into her, she forgot her own name and moaned mine like a confession. Her steps were composed, her shoulders squared, and yet I knew better. I knew the tremble in her limbs, the way her chest had heaved beneath my palm. I knew her. Body and soul. And she walked away like she didn’t still belong to me. But I remembered. I remembered everything. Every ragged breath, every broken sob muffled by my hand, every clench of her muscles as she tried and failed not to come. Her body moved for me, with me. It pulsed like an echo to mine. When I closed my eyes, I still felt the heat of her against my hips, the way she melted when I whispered, "Six feet away." And now she thinks she’ll

  • His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim   62. MATTEO

    Her body was tight against mine, trembling in my arms, the way prey trembles before the predator sinks his teeth in but it wasn’t fear. It was surrender.My hand moved from her mouth to her throat, curling gently around it. I could feel her pulse hammering beneath my palm, beating like a war drum beneath silk. She was so warm. So alive. And mine.I kept moving inside her, slow, cruel strokes meant to last, meant to burn her from the inside out. My hips rocked into her with a deliberate rhythm, each thrust a dark signature carved into her flesh. She shook. Her knees quivered. And still, I didn’t stop.Fuck that pussy.I wanted her to remember this. Every second. Every drag of my cock, every moment her body tensed with the threat of being caught. The thrill of danger made her hotter. Wetter. Wilder. It soaked into her skin like heat in the bones.She whimpered, but didn’t pull away.“Let me kiss you,” I breathed against her ear, voice laced in smoke and sin. My fingers twisted into her

  • His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim   61. MATTEO

    She stood like a storm trying not to break frozen, trembling, as if the ground beneath her belonged to someone else. But I knew. I knew that all it would take was a single breath, a single touch, and she’d fall apart in my hands again.So I watched.Watched her come undone without me needing to move a muscle. She was already halfway ruined just from the weight of my gaze.Then I reached out and tilted her chin up, dragging her into the center of my gravity.“Do you want that too? Do you want me to fuck you knowing the man your father chose for you is not so far away, dolcezza?”Her response wasn’t spoken but it was loud. Her hands fisted into the front of my shirt, like she needed something to anchor her to reality. I felt her hesitation die the moment she turned around. Quiet. Shaking. Her breath stuttering like a confession. Her silence was the loudest surrender I’d ever heard.I let my palm glide up the length of her spine, a ghost of a touch that still scorched through her clothes

  • His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim   60. MATTEO

    The moment I saw her, all thoughts stilled. The ache I buried deep under skin and scars surged like a tide, unforgiving and loud. Giulianna. Even the way her breath trembled like she didn’t belong here… it made me want to break her in ways only I could repair.“You came all this way,” I said softly, my voice a lull right before the violence. “Just to see if I’d ruin you again.”And fuck, I would. With devotion.She tried to pull back but I didn’t let her. Not when her body called to me like it remembered the melody of sin we used to play. Not when her scent struck the buried parts of me like gasoline on open flame.I stepped into her. Close. Too close. One arm wound around her waist like I was claiming what never stopped being mine. My other hand caught her wrist, raising it above her head like an offering. Mine to hold, mine to worship, mine to destroy if I felt like it. My fingers pressed into her pulse, and I felt it hammer, her blood sang for me like it always did.I leaned in, li

  • His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim   59. MATTEO

    She came like a ghost that had finally remembered where it belonged.But my Giulianna was no spirit, she was flesh. Blood. Fire. And she was mine.I had known she’d come. Not hoped nor known. Because no matter how far she tried to run, no matter what silk prisons they wrapped her in, her soul remembered its place.With me.I’d waited on the steps of this godforsaken ruin, the wreckage of our first undoing, dressed like a man with nowhere to be but exactly where she would find me. Hands buried in my pockets to still the itch. Legs spread wide like I was already claiming the ground beneath me. My foot planted on cracked marble like the throne was still mine.I hadn’t moved a fucking inch.Because I wanted her to feel it the second she saw me, the gravity of it. The pull of a storm that had waited too long to swallow her whole. And when she did finally arrive, I felt it like a slap to the chest.That car door slammed like an omen.The gravel cried under her heels.And there she was, unto

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