His Baby My Burden: The Mafia Rider's Claim のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 81 - チャプター 90

“Do it.” I whispered. “Please—do it.” I shattered a second later, mouth falling open in a silent scream as my body convulsed beneath him. He followed, hard, thrusting deep one last time as he spilled into me with a strangled moan, his whole body shaking, his mouth still chanting my name like it could keep us both alive. We collapsed into the rug. Both of us were sweating and spent with what we did. We were just silent and staring at each other. He looked like he had enough with his life, but every time his eyes would meet mine it feels like he looks at me as another reason to live. Only the fire crackled now. And the beat of his heart against my chest. He didn’t pull out right away. He stayed buried inside me like he was scared I’d disappear. Then he whispered something against my hair, voice low and broken. “I’m never leaving you again.”The heat between us was still clinging to my skin, like the fireplace flame had somehow crept inside my chest and made a permanent home ther

I woke to the sound of birds. Not the chaotic chatter of city doves or the distant shriek of crows, but something gentler and lighter. Like a song sung just for the trees. Their calls filtered softly through the wood-paneled walls, threading between the quiet breaths of a sleeping cabin. For a moment, I didn’t move. I just lay there, wrapped in the faded scent of pine smoke and old linens, listening to the world start again. My hand stretched instinctively to the other side of the bed. It was empty but not cold. The sheets still held the faint heat of his body, like a memory that hadn’t had time to fade. I curled my fingers over the imprint where Matteo had been, feeling the hollow there like the echo of a heartbeat. He was up already. I sat up slowly, letting the blanket fall to my waist, and blinked into the soft gray-blue of early morning. Outside, pale light crept through the cracks in the shutters, casting long streaks across the wooden floor. Everything smelled like somethi

Trauma doesn’t vanish with pancakes. But healing can start in the quiet. After breakfast, Sofia pulled us both by the hands toward the window, pointing at her drawing taped to the glass. “It’s our family.” she said. “I drew it two weeks ago.” I leaned in. It was a stick figure version of Matteo, me, her, and Enzo standing beside a big, messy house. There were hearts floating over everyone’s heads. The sky was purple. The grass was blue. But the smiles were wide. “You drew me,” Matteo said softly. “I made you extra taller than Uncle Enzo." she said matter-of-factly.The sun was high now, slipping through the pine trees like gold-dusted threads. The air was crisp but warm and one of those rare afternoons where everything felt still, like the world had paused just for us.Sofia tugged us outside like a whirlwind, her curls bouncing wildly with every step. She ran ahead barefoot, laughing, her hands flailing as she shouted, “Come on! You’re walking like turtles!”Matteo smiled besid

The fire had died down to a soft hum in the hearth. Embers crackled like whispered confessions. The only light came from that amber glow, casting shadows across the wood-paneled walls and flickering against Matteo’s bare chest as he stood in front of me.Sofia had fallen asleep hours ago, tucked beneath layers of warmth. Enzo too who is curled up like a boy again in the treehouse that watched over the woods. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, it was just me and Matteo.And silence. The kind of silence that wasn't empty but full. Full of unsaid things. Full of heat.He leaned on the wall across me, arms crossed, eyes trailing slowly over my body like I was a vision he’d dreamed too many nights to count. His voice was low, thick, like honey over smoke."Look at you…" he murmured. "Wrapped in shadows. My favorite fucking kind of art."I bit my lower lip, breath catching. I was still in his flannel shirt, bare beneath it. His scent clung to me. Pine, tobacco, and storm. My b

The room smelled like smoke and sex like him. The fireplace flickered behind us, its amber glow painting golden shadows across Matteo’s shoulders as he hovered over me, his breath still hot on my skin. My chest rose and fell with shallow gasps, body trembling under the weight of what just happened and what was still to come. The house creaked gently in the silence, as if the old wood itself was trying to memorize the sounds we’d made with my name on his lips whispered like prayer, my moans buried in his mouth.He didn’t move from me. His eyes were locked on mine, wild and hungry still, like he hadn’t even begun to satisfy the ache that burned between us. His hair was tousled, curls falling slightly over his brow, and there was a look in his gaze that made my breath hitch again like he was staring at something sacred and utterly his. I felt it in the press of his palm on my hip, in the slow, deliberate way his fingers traced the curve of my waist. Possessive. Worshipful. Ruined.“I mis