All Chapters of The Mafias Obsession: Obey, Kneel, Submit : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Then act like it. Her body moved before her mind caught up. That was the kind of ruin he’d carved into her. That was the kind of submission he’d branded beneath her skin. She didn’t crawl. She didn’t stumble. She dragged herself across the floor like a possessed thing, like a girl who no longer remembered what she was, only that she needed him. That she belonged to him. That nothing else in the fucking world mattered except the taste of him, the sound of his voice, and the feeling of her mouth choking on the cock that had turned her from a woman into an offering. Dominic didn’t speak. He just watched. He stood there like a god carved from sin and bone, his cock still hard, still dripping, still twitching with the promise of more. His eyes were black, unreadable, seething with hunger that had no bottom. She felt it, even with her head bowed, even with her fingers shaking as she reached for him. It burned over her like heat from a fire too close, like her skin would peel if she

The morning light bled slowly into the room as Isadora didn’t move. Her eyes were open, but her body refused to shift. Every inch of her throbbed. Her thighs were sore. Her cunt was pulsing. Her nipples ached from how roughly he’d played with them. Her ass still held the memory of his palm, his grip, his thrusts. But the pain wasn’t what held her still. It was him. Dominic Valenzo. His head was resting on her chest, turned toward her, lips slightly parted, breath warm against the curve of her breast. One arm was draped around her waist. The other hand, impossibly gentle, was tangled in her hair. Not yanking. Not fisting it to choke her. Just holding it like he needed the anchor. Her body was wrecked, used, dripping with his filth. She could feel it, the mess between her thighs still wet, still hot, her inner walls twitching around the absence of him. Her skin smelled like him. Her mouth tasted like him. Her cunt ached for him. And yet he hadn’t left. He was still here. In h

Isadora followed. Dressed now in one of his shirts..oversized, wrinkled, barely hiding the bruises on her thighs and the mark of his teeth near her collarbone. Her hair was still damp from the cold cloth she’d used to wipe between her legs. And every step reminded her how raw she still was.Not just physically.Emotionally.Because the things he said upstairs still clung to her ribs like smoke.Don’t pretend you don’t care when you do.She wasn’t pretending.She was fucking drowning in it.But all of that froze the moment they stepped into the living room.And chaos greeted them like an old friend.Catarina was the first thing Isadora saw.On top of Matteo.Literally straddling him on the plush white couch, her black silk robe shoved up around her hips, her long dark hair a tangled mess as she moaned into his mouth like they hadn’t noticed anyone enter the room. Matteo’s hands were gripping her thighs. Hard. His head tilted back as Catarina’s lips dragged down his throat.Isadora bli

Dominic’s grip didn’t loosen. Not even when Catarina’s lips started turning pale. He saw her eyes flutter. Her hands slapped weakly at his wrist. But he didn’t ease. His entire arm vibrated with restraint. Just a fraction more pressure and her windpipe would collapse. But it wasn’t the way she looked at him now that made his skin crawl. It was how right she was. She fucking said it. Said the one thing he never allowed himself to think out loud. The one truth he buried beneath every act of it all. Every time he kissed Isadora too long. Fucked her way too fucking hard. Watched her sleep like he was afraid she’d disappear. She looked like Anna. She looked like her. Not just in the soft curve of her lips or the darkness in her lashes. It was the fucking way she moved. The way she lowered her head when she was scared but refused to back down. The way she tasted like salt and heat and something that could ruin a man forever. Isadora wasn’t Anna. He knew that. He fucking knew th

She shoved him with everything she had. Her palms slammed into his chest, and his body jolted like she’d just ripped his soul out. He stumbled backward, the heels of his shoes scraping the marble. He caught himself with one hand on the wall, breath heaving. She didn’t even blink. “Tell me the truth,” she spat, voice shaking with rage. “Was I ever enough? Or was I just the right fucking shape to fill the hole she left behind?” He said nothing. Not at first. Just dragged a hand down his face like he wanted to peel the skin off. “I never wanted to hurt you.” She laughed. It wasn’t sweet. It was broken. Ugly. It sounded like years of pain pouring out of her throat all at once. “You tore me apart. Literally. Do you even remember how many times I couldn’t walk after you were done with me? How many nights you left me shaking. Dripping. Ruined. Too sore to fucking close my legs.” She didn’t give him time to speak. She was already walking. Already getting in his face. “You fucked m