All Chapters of Claimed By My Ex Boyfriend's Dad : Chapter 131 - Chapter 138

Michael. It's as if the gates of hell have opened in the gallery—blood sprinkling through the air, bodies falling to the floor as gunshots blast through the room. I move my hands swiftly to my holster, pulling out my guns and opening fire on Silas's men. Laura's screaming behind me. “Stick close to me, Laura!” I yell through chaos, blocking her with my body as I take down the motherfucker aiming to shoot at her. Hardly any of the guests make it out. Some are hiding, while some are flat dead on the floor. Blood pools over the white tiles, the paintings, the walls, and the windows. Bones goes physical with one of Silas's guards, their grunts echoing as they exchange hard blows and kicks.Bones gets the upper hand, backing the guy against the broken window. He doesn't waste a minute to kick him off, and the guy starts falling from the penthouse into the street, his screams echoing. Even while I shoot, I still know the moment he crashes over the asphalt below. People squeal, horns

Michael. They've all assembled; the dons and pahkans who make up the Allied Faction. Each of them alights from their cars, adjusting their suits while Laura and I watch them. We just finished having a bath, and she helped me dress up before we came here to welcome them. I know why they've come; it's to know how successful the meeting with Silas went, but I'm just about to burst their bubble. Antonio is the first to climb the stairs until he halts before us, his eyes widening upon seeing my wound. “Is that…a souvenir, perhaps?” He jokes while Kostantin and the rest draw closer. I would have laughed if it were funny. Instead, I just growl, causing them to flinch. “It's more than just a souvenir.” My gaze flickers between them. “It's a disaster.” They shudder, trading glances, but I don't indulge them as I grab Laura with my free hand and we head back into the house.It's a silent order for them to follow. They do, their feet clacking with hesitation over the floor. Arriving in

Laura. *Three Weeks Later*“No, Natasha. Bring it over here.” I wave at Natasha, who's setting Michael's breakfast at the head table, gesturing for her to bring it over to me. She flashes her teeth at me with a smile. “I still need to feed him.” “Yes, ma'am.” Natasha complies, bringing the plate filled with baked beans, sausages, eggs, and mushrooms to me. She's yet to serve mine, but I dismiss her from doing so. Michael and I will eat from the same plate. This has been our tradition for the past three weeks, given his condition. His wound is slowly healing, but his hand is still in a sling. Although Michael, being a stubborn man, sometimes refuses to put the sling on his arm, claiming it's not hurting anymore. I know why he's doing that. He doesn't want his men to assume he's weak, hence the overbearing and strong facade he puts on. Well, I just let him do his thing sometimes, but on the days I notice the pain is getting out of hand, I force him to wear the sling. It's not yet

Laura. I don't need anyone to tell me Michael is enjoying my ministrations. It's written all over his face, from how he is panting, how his brows are in a deep crease, how his lip is stuck between his lips, to how red his face is. He's clouded by pleasure. All he does is thrust his pretty hard cock into my palm, eyes closed. My massage over his cock is extra soft, and it's meant to induce unavoidable sensations. He gives me a guttural groan when my hand lowers from the base to his balls. I pull into him, running my tongue over his balls. Michael buckles. He grabs my hair with his good hand, pushing my face flat against his groin. We don't speak, but our bodies do the talking. Releasing his balls from my mouth, I drag them sultrily over his veiny length, my hot breath fanning over him. My intention was to tease him, but I ended up being teased. My pussy drips like a fountain, and I choose to give it attention in rhythm to his. I blink up at him, our gazes intense, and while st