Claimed by the Mafia Boss

Chapter 12: Marked and Owned

The second he buried himself inside her, a guttural sound tore from his throat—something between a curse and a prayer. She cried out, her nails scraping the wood of the headboard, legs trembling as he filled her to the hilt.

“You’re so f*****g tight,” he growled, pulling back just enough before slamming into her again, deeper. Harder.

She gasped—half pleasure, half shock—her body rocked forward by the force of his thrust. Her breath left her lungs in stuttering moans as he gripped her hips, holding her steady like he owned her. And maybe he did. Maybe he had since the second he looked at her like she was something he could break.

Each movement was rough, controlled only by his need to take her apart. And God, she was unraveling for him—body surrendering, skin burning, mind blanking out as the rhythm of his hips pounded into her from behind.

“Say it,” he growled into her neck, his chest pressed to her back now, hand sliding up her body to wrap around her throat—not tight, just there, just dominant. “Say who’s f*****g you like this.”

“You,” she whimpered.

He slowed.

“What was that?”

“You are—Dominic—please—”

“Louder.”

She screamed it this time.

“You! It’s you—f**k!”

That was all he needed.

He let go.

Every thrust now was punishment and pleasure in one brutal, beautiful rhythm. The slap of skin on skin filled the room, her name falling from his lips like a chant as she gripped the headboard tighter, barely able to stay upright from the force of him taking her.

“You like it like this?” he hissed, biting down on her shoulder. “Like a good girl bent over for her boss?”

The word boss had her clenching around him again, another orgasm building so fast it stole her breath. Her legs were trembling violently beneath her as he drove her straight into the edge.

“Come on me,” he growled. “I want to feel you lose it. Right here. On my cock.”

And when she did—body shuddering, back arching, a scream torn from her throat—he lost it.

He gripped her tighter, thrusting harder, deeper, as her body milked him for everything he had. When he finally came, it was with a snarl, biting down on her neck as he emptied himself inside her with one final, brutal thrust.

Silence fell—only their panting, the sound of skin cooling against damp sheets.

He didn’t pull out. Didn’t move.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around her from behind, pressing soft kisses into the back of her neck, gentleness returning like a tide after the storm.

“You okay?” he whispered, lips against her hairline.

She nodded slowly, still shaking, still floating.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured. “I’ll always have you.”

And she believed him.

Even if she shouldn’t.

She hadn’t even caught her breath before he flipped her onto her back again. Her limbs were still limp, chest still heaving from the last time he destroyed her. But Dominic didn’t care. He hovered over her, eyes blazing with something dark, primal, starved.

“You thought I was done with you?” he asked, voice pure gravel, lips brushing hers like a threat. “No, baby. I’ve barely even started.”

She whimpered, hips instinctively rolling up to meet him. Her body betrayed her—needy, greedy, already dripping again.

He grinned. “Yeah… that’s what I thought.”

His hand gripped her jaw, tilting her chin up until she had no choice but to look him in the eyes.

“You’re mine now. You let me in once—now you don’t get to lock me out.” He kissed her, rough and claiming. “I’m going to make sure every inch of you knows who you belong to.”

Before she could answer, his mouth was on her again—this time lower, descending with purpose.

He licked her like he was punishing her for tempting him, teeth scraping her thighs, tongue circling her c**t until she was gasping and arching again. But just when she was close—so close he could feel her body tightening—he pulled back.

“Uh-uh,” he growled, mouth slick with her. “You only come when I say.”

“Please,” she choked out, thighs trembling.

He leaned over her, fingers wrapping around her wrists and pinning them above her head.

“You want to come?” he asked, voice velvet and fire. “Then take me. All of me.”

He thrust in without warning, deep and brutal. She screamed—half in shock, half in bliss—and he drank it in like it fueled him.

One hand stayed locked around her wrists, the other slid beneath her thigh, hiking her leg up to drive even deeper.

“That’s it,” he groaned. “Take every f*****g inch like the good little slut you are for me.”

Her head tipped back, eyes rolling, body on fire.

“You like being used like this?” he whispered in her ear. “You want me to f**k you so hard you can’t walk tomorrow?”

“Yes,” she gasped. “Please—don’t stop—”

He didn’t.

He pounded into her with a fury that had the headboard slamming the wall. Her moans turned to sobs of pleasure, her body unraveling again under the weight of his raw, possessive energy.

When she tried to move her hands, he slammed them back down.

“No. You stay right there,” he snarled. “I’m not done claiming you.”

Then he bit her neck—hard enough to leave a mark.

“That’s mine,” he growled. “You walk out there with this, and everyone will know who you belong to.”

She clenched around him so tightly he almost lost control.

“f**k—you're gonna make me come again—”

He drove harder, deeper, until her body went stiff and her scream broke into a cry as she came—violently, completely—around him.

And then he let go.

He filled her with a deep, guttural groan, hips jerking as he emptied every last drop inside her.

He collapsed against her, body slick with sweat, chest heaving.

Neither of them spoke for a moment. The silence between them pulsed with heat, satisfaction, ownership.

Then he brushed a strand of hair off her cheek, lips brushing her jaw.

“We’re not done,” he whispered. “Not even close.”