Claimed by My Mafia Stepson

CHAPTER 15

—Madeline—

The servants scampered out of the room, their footsteps echoing on the marble. The last one shut the door after him and silence settled in.

Tick

Tick.

Tick.

Except for the ticking of the grandfather clock in the room.

Dominic exhaled, stood and locked the door, the final click sounding like a thunderclap.

Heat twisted low in my stomach.

No.

I shouldn't have been looking at my stepson like something made to ruin me. He walked back to his chair and sat.

Like it was all a game. Our game.

To see whoever breaks first.

“Get on your knees, Madeline. Crawl over,” he said, voice husky.

I shook my head. “No. We shouldn't be doing this.”

“I said, crawl over.”

“Why don't you tell me first the type of business you're into?”

His expression shifted into something more sinful, the smirk returning to his lips.

“Still proving stubborn?”

“As a Morvanti Lady, I need to know every family business.”

He took another slow drag of his cigar— his dark eyes raking over me.

He stood, and his shadow swallowed me whole, his cologne wrapping around me, dragging memories to the surface.

“You ask too many questions for a woman dripping temptation in my dining room.”

“No, I'm not.”

His gaze landed on my legs. “I can see the way you're pressing your legs together.”

I opened my mouth to speak.

But the words died in my throat.

He puffed and circled me— steps lithe as a predator cornering his prey. Except this prey was already looking forward to it.

“Do you really want to talk business?” He brushed a cigar smoke near my ear. “You have to earn it.”

He picked me up as though I weighed nothing and set me down on the table. Then he gripped my chin hard enough to make ownership feel real.

“Dominic.”

He leaned closer until his lips hovered over mine, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“I can hear your heart thumping. You want this— you want me to f**k you so hard against this table?”

A whimper left me.

“This is all shades of wrong.”

“Is it?” He straightened just a bit. “Then you can go.”

Fvck it!

I grabbed his shirt and kissed him.

“There she is,” he murmured against my lips, tossing his cigar on the table. “Took you long enough.”

God. He tasted great! I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer.

My boldness shocked me.

The realization of what I’d done sent panic and desire crashing through me at once.

For a terrifying five seconds, he didn’t kiss me back.

Then his hand found my waist and yanked me forward with a possessive force that knocked the breath out of my lungs.

My mouth parted, and he swept his tongue inside, claiming me.

A low sound rumbled from his chest as he kissed me harder, teeth grazing my bottom lip before he trailed a line of fire down my neck— past my chest and belly until his breath fanned my thighs.

“What are you doing?” I blurted, the words coming out high and breathless.

Dominic didn't look up.

He simply hooked his fingers onto the waistband of my panties and peeled them away.

“Something you’ll thank me for in about thirty seconds,” he growled. “Hold onto the edge of the table. I don't want you falling.”

I waited, my heart pounding.

My fingers clawed at the mahogany table, bracing for whatever was coming.

Then I felt him against my slick entrance.

The world tilted.

Fvck! He was so good!

I slammed a hand over my mouth to refrain from screaming.

Dominic didn't stop.

He dragged his tongue along my dripping slit before capturing my throbbing c**t and sucking hungrily.

I almost fell off the table.

He tightened his hold on my waist, his fingers digging into my skin as if to remind me that I was the one who had invited him in.

My hips rolled against his face.

I felt dirty, stained by a hunger that should have belonged to my husband. Yet Androa gave all his attention to his mistress. I was standing in the heart of my new home—being devoured by my stepson—and the thought of it made me crave every second.

I realized I’d rather go to hell for this moment than live another second in the cold.

“Yes,” I cried as he sent his tongue inside my cunt and f****d me.

His eyes were darker than I'd ever seen them, pinning mine, tracking every reaction.

He knew. He could see the war raging inside me—the way my mind screamed wrong while my body hummed yes.

I was leaking on the table, down to the floor.

God. I was his now. Not by law, but by our sinful secret.

He pulled away, the cool air hitting my skin like a shock, only to reclaim me with a possessiveness, latching on my swollen c**t.

I let out a jagged, broken sound that I didn't recognize as my own. My spine arched, heels digging into his back as jolts of electricity shot through me.

The room vanished.

All that was left was his mouth against me.

Then, the dam broke.

It was a blinding surrender. One that sent waves of climax across my nerves.

Dominic didn't let go.

He held me firmly through it. Drank in every tremor, every broken sob until I was a breathless mess.

My body still spasmed as he stood and kissed me, offering me a taste of myself.

“You're beautiful.” He cupped my face. “And addictive.”

His phone rang. He let go and grabbed it from his pocket— then swiped to answer.

“Hello, Marco.”

“They're here.”

Dominic ended the call and slipped back the phone into his pocket, eyes never leaving mine, composure still calm.

Curiosity stirred inside me.

“Who was that?”

“Marco, my Enfo—Head of my security team.”

Something flashed in his eyes, like he’d almost revealed something.

“So who are those he said were coming? Business partners?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Androa and Elisa.”

My eyes widened.

I hopped down from the table and straightened my dress. But he caught my wrist before I could grab my panties, fixing me with a knowing look.

“This is mine now.” He shoved them into his pocket.

My core clenched at his words.

A faint smile touched my lips.

“As you wish.”

He didn't let go. Not immediately.

“I will see you tonight, right?”

“I can't make promises,” I said.

He pulled me into his arms. “What about tomorrow night?”

I angled my head playfully. “Let's see about that.”

He didn't argue. He leaned down and bit the sensitive spot on my neck just enough to draw gasps from my lips.

My thighs hummed with new heat.

“Careful, Little Bird. I’m starting to think you enjoy making me chase you.”

“What if I do?”

“That’s fine... I like watching you surrender slowly.”

Androa pulled into the driveway with Elisa in the passenger seat, tires screeching and sending specks of dust into the air. Another driver trailed behind in her car.

Dominic didn't release me.

He kissed me—slow at first, devastating after. The kind of kiss that made sin taste like promises.

“Go.” He stepped back just as the car doors slammed outside. “Tomorrow. Midnight. Don’t make me come looking for you.”

I took a step and felt weak in the knees. It didn't occur to me how hard it was to leave.

Not after an intense orgasm.

My body was still trembling. Flushed. p***y dripping with release.

God, I was about to meet my husband while still hot and wet from another man.

I took a deep breath and unlocked the door, each turn sounding louder than it should have.

The corridor felt too bright—too normal—as I moved through it, steps composed. Almost composed.

My fingers smoothed my dress once. Then again. As if fabric alone could erase the memory still burning on my skin. My breathing refused to settle into anything believable.

I stepped into the foyer just as Androa and Elisa walked in.

Everything inside me snapped back into place at once—panic, consequence—colliding so violently I had to stop halfway across the place.

I smiled too quickly. “Androa.”

“Cara,” Androa called.

My throat dried. “You're back!”

The air suddenly changed.

I didn't need to look to know Dominic had appeared behind me.

I did anyway.

Androa took my hand. “Yes, cara. There's something Elisa would like to tell you.”

I glanced at his mistress. Something didn't add up.

“What's that?”

Elisa took one step forward.

“I'm sorry about earlier,” she said, avoiding Dominic's gaze. “I let my emotions get the better of me. I promise you, it will never repeat itself again.”

My brows creased.

Could she really be sorry?

Or was this another performance?