A Game of Poker

MATTEO’S POVThe moment Arielle sank onto my lap, every muscle in my body rose up. Her ass pressed perfectly against my cock, soft curves molding to me through the thin fabric of her dress. She reached up without hesitation, plucked the cigar from my fingers, and brought it to those full lips.She took a slow, deliberate drag.Smoke curled from her mouth, and the entire table went dead silent. Part of me wanted to drag her out of here, bend her over the nearest surface, and remind her exactly who she belonged to. The other part, the darker, prouder part swelled with something dangerously close to admiration. My little kitten wasn’t just surviving my world. She was stepping into it with claws out.Across the table, Ivan watched her, those ice-blue eyes dragged over every inch of her, lingering on the way her dress hugged her thighs, the exposed line of her neck where my mark from last night still faintly showed if you knew where to look. He leaned back in his chair, a slow, predator

One Winner, One Loser

MATTEO’S POVIvan’s voice still hung in the air. “Your move, Moretti. Or should I say… hers?” and every gun in the room stayed trained on its target. My finger itched on the trigger of my own piece, half-drawn and ready to paint the walls with Russian blood if anyone so much as breathed wrong.But Arielle didn’t flinch. She sat perfectly still on my lap, the cigar burning low between her fingers, her ass warm, pressed against my cock. I could feel her pulse racing under my palm, yet her voice came out steady, almost amused.“I accept.”The words landed like a fucking grenade.Rage and something worse surged through me. My arm tightened around her waist so hard I knew I’d leave bruises. “Arielle,” I growled low in warning, but she ignored me, leaning forward just enough to set the cigar in the ashtray with deliberate calm.“I want Ivan’s fingers chopped off if I win,” she said clearly, loud enough for the whole table to hear. “All of them. One by one. Right here.”A stunned beat of si

Reckless Win

THIRD PERSON POVThe private poker room rose with suffocating tension. No one moved. Arielle sat straight-backed in her chair, face calm, eyes locked on her cards. Matteo stood half-risen behind her, jaw clenched tight. His gaze burned into the side of her head, a silent storm of rage, fear, and that dark, unwilling pride. One wrong flip and she would be spread on this very table for Ivan to claim. The thought alone made his blood boil.Ivan leaned back in his chair, ice-blue eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. A slow, mocking smile curved his lips as he watched Arielle. “Give up now, Arielle,” he drawled, voice thick with a Russian accent and dripping condescension. “One wrong move and I get to wreck you for life.”Laughter erupted around the table. The older Italian players chuckled low and rough, shaking their heads at the audacity of the woman who had dared to sit with them. Ivan’s men joined in, their laughs louder, crueler, already imagining the scene — the beautiful prize bent

Un Touched

ARIELLE’S POVMatteo didn't touch me. I stood there, but he did nothing, absolutely nothing. I stormed into the bedroom, my blood still boiling and my body traitorously on fire.The adrenaline from the casino hadn’t faded. If anything, it had twisted into something darker, hotter. My skin felt too tight, my thighs pressed together with every step. Matteo had kissed me like he wanted to devour me, like the rage and the blood and the chaos had stripped us both down to raw need. And then he’d pulled away.He’d fucking pulled away.I yanked off my blood-splattered dress, letting it drop to the floor in a crumpled heap. The cool air hit my bare skin, but it did nothing to calm the ache between my legs. I was wet, throbbing, furious. He had left me hanging after that kiss, after everything that had happened tonight. My nipples were tight, sensitive, and every brush of the sheets against them as I climbed into bed only made it worse.I wanted him. I hated that I wanted him, but the need was

Burn For Me

ARIELLE’S POVThe next morning, I groaned as my eyes met the light from our window. My body still hummed with unresolved tension, the ache between my thighs was a constant reminder of how Matteo had held me tight but refused to give me what I craved. I had barely slept, tossing and turning against his solid chest, every shift of his body teasing me without relief.He was still asleep beside me, lying on his back, one arm loosely draped over his stomach. The sheet had slipped low on his hips, exposing the hard lines of his abs and the faint trail of dark hair leading down. Even in sleep he looked dangerous. I should have been angry. I was angry. But the sight of him like this, vulnerable for once, only made the heat flare hotter.Quietly, I slid closer. My hand moved first, trailing lightly over his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. He didn’t stir. I let my fingers drift lower, slipping beneath the sheet until I wrapped them around his cock. He was already half-hard, th

Nikolai Morretti

THIRD PERSON POVNikolai Moretti’s eyes finally snapped open, sharp and clear for the first time since the attack. The fog of painkillers and fever had finally lifted. He sat up slowly. The monitors beeped steadily beside him. He ripped the IV from his arm without hesitation, blood trickling down his wrist as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.Sophia.Her name hit him. The shy little nurse with wide eyes and trembling hands who had tended to him day and night. The one he had claimed as his possession the moment he first woke up enough to speak. He had told her she belonged to him now,no escape, no questions. He stood, bare feet hitting the cold floor. His clothes, black shirt and pants brought by one of the guards were folded neatly on a chair. He dressed quickly, ignoring the pull of stitches across his torso.“Where is she?” he growled the moment a nurse entered the room to check on him.The woman froze, clipboard trembling in her hands. “Mr. Moretti… you shouldn’t be up