Semua Bab When You Make A Deal With The Biker Mafia : Bab 31 - Bab 40

Adriana“You want that, baby? You want me to fuck your mouth like my whore?”I was panting, drooling, naked on my knees, and I whispered hoarsely around his cock, “Yes, sir.”That was all it took. His cock rammed into my throat in one brutal thrust, and I gagged, choking, eyes streaming. He didn’t stop. He pulled me down again, harder, deeper, his grip on my hair turning punishing as he used my mouth without mercy. Each intrusion was violent, his cock battering my throat until I couldn’t breathe, my moans spilling out broken and desperate.“I like watching you like this, Adriana,” he growled, his pace savage. “Looking so fucking slutty with my cock down your throat.”I reached for his balls, massaging them gently as tears blurred my vision, and he whimpered… Matteo whimpered as his thrusts turned erratic. His voice broke into a chant of my name, guttural and ragged, until suddenly he groaned loud and long, and I felt it.Hot, thick cum shot down my throat in heavy spurts, endless a

MatteoThe suite unfolded before us. The first thing you noticed wasn’t the space. It was the light. Evening had settled over Miami, the sun bleeding its last fire into the horizon, and through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the entire skyline glowed. And right in the middle of the living room, a pool shimmered beneath golden light. Its water caught the sunset like melted amber, soft waves dancing against marble edges.Beyond it, a terrace opened wide to the city below… plush white loungers, a table laid with champagne, and the faint hum of traffic far beneath us.Adriana stepped inside slowly, her bare feet sinking into the velvet rug with wide eyes.She took it all in…the chandelier above the pool, the sleek glass bar lined with bottles, the grand piano near the window, even the scent of roses that drifted through the air.“Oh my God…” she breathed. “Matteo, this is—”“Home,” I said quietly, watching her face.She turned to me, lips parted in disbelief. “You call this a suite?”I sm

AdrianaI followed Matteo downstairs through the hostel lobby, and the Miami heat wrapped around us the second we stepped outside. The valet brought a black Mercedes around, and Matteo opened my door before getting behind the wheel. We pulled onto Ocean Drive, and the city stretched out in front of us with neon lights cutting through the night.Everything felt different here compared to New York. The crowds spilled out of restaurants and bars, and bass from the clubs thumped so loud I could feel it through the car windows. Palm trees lined every street, and the air smelled like salt water mixed with expensive perfume and cigar smoke. I watched people stumbling along the sidewalks in designer clothes and wondered how Matteo knew his way around this place so well."You have nothing to worry about," Matteo said and kept his eyes on the road. "Gabriel is a friend, and you're safe with me."I nodded, but my stomach still felt tight. I knew Gabriel Reyes was the Don in Miami, but I had ne

Adriana He stood across the room, arms crossed tightly over his broad chest, his jaw clenched in a way that screamed disapproval. My lips curved into a mischievous smile. I relished the tension between us. The pole, a gleaming chrome pillar rising from the centre of the stage, called to me like a siren. I stumbled toward it, my stilettos clicking against the floor with each unsteady step. My tight white dress hugged my curves like a second skin, accentuating the swell of my hips and the dip of my waist. The crowd, sensing something was about to happen, began to part, their eyes fixed on me with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation. Matteo’s gaze followed me every move, his expression a mix of frustration and something darker, something primal that he couldn’t quite suppress.Reaching the pole, I gripped it with both hands, my fingers wrapping around the cool metal. I paused for a moment, my chest heaving as I steadied myself, before turning to face the crowd. With a sharp tug, I

MatteoAdriana and I made our way down the coast toward Gabriel’s Beach House. Unlike the other Miami beaches that were packed with tourists and noise, this place was different. It was tucked away from the main strips, hidden behind tall palms and natural dunes that kept it invisible from the road. You wouldn't know it existed unless someone told you about it; that was the whole point.We drove one of our Jeeps, the tyres crunching over the sandy path that led to the entrance. Two guards stood at a gate that looked like it belonged to a military compound, not a beach. They were armed and watching our approach with cold eyes, but the second they saw my face, their expressions shifted. They bowed their heads slightly, one of them pressing a button that made the gate slide open without a word.The path opened up, and the beach house came into view. It was fucking magnificent. The structure sat right on the private stretch of beach, all white stone and massive glass windows that reflect