Forbidden Claim: A Mafia King’s Obsession

Chapter 22: The backseat tension

Nadia’s POV

The words hammer repeatedly in my head. Before I can process them, his hand grips the neckline of my evening gown. With a powerful, downward jerk, the sound of the fabric tearing echoes in the interior of the car. The silk rips open completely, exposing my lace bra and the bare skin of my torso to the cool air of the car.

“NO!”

“STOP IT!”

“DON’T TOUCH ME!”

My screams heighten as I thrash beneath him, my hands flying up to cover myself. The panic of my phobia combined with the terror of his fury creates a suffocating wave of nausea deep in my chest. “Please, Lorenzo, I can’t — don’t—”

A sudden surge of pain on my cheek stole the remaining words off my lips. Lorenzo strikes my face with the back of his hand, my cheeks burn from the pain as a faint taste of copper fills my mouth.

“Shut the f**k up!” he orders, pinning both of my hands over my head with a bruising grip. His dark eyes burns into mine, completely indifferent to my tears. “You run around when I order you not to. Then you suffer the consequences.”

Without giving me a chance to breathe, his free hand snaps down, catching the hem of my ruined dress and shoving it up past my waist. I squeeze my eyes shut, sobbing as vulnerability washes over me. I can feel him through the fabric of his trousers —hard and huge — pressing against my naked thighs.

“Look at me, Nadia,” he growls, slamming his weight down slightly to still my shuddering. “Open your eyes.”

I don’t listen, I keep them shut. Shaking my head vigorously.

“I said, look at me!”

Still refusing to look, his fingers grip my jaw, squeezing until I am forced to look up into his predatory gaze. With one merciless, swift movement, his hand slid between my thighs, ripping the fragile lace of my underwear out of the way.

An agonizing, muffled cry tears from my lungs as he abruptly leans over and claims my lips. The brutal, crushing sensation makes my entire body go still in shock. He tastes like expensive whiskey and raw anger. His tongue forcefully invades my mouth, claiming me with a terrifying dominance that triggers every nerve ending of my phobia. I am suffocating, trapped between his heavy frame and the leather seat.

“Lorenzo, stop! — please, stop!” I scream against his mouth the moment he broke the kiss, my hips jerking upward, trying to claw away from the suffocating pressure. Tears stream freely down my temples , my breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

Instead of stopping, he buries his face in my neck, planting burning kisses on them, his teeth grazes the sensitive skin of my throat and he bites down, hard and mercilessly. A loud cry leaves my throat as the sharp pain of his teeth tearing into my skin radiates through my upper body. A dark, possessive look fills his eyes as he lifts his head slightly up, his dark eyes widening with feral satisfaction as he sees the deep blood red mark he has left on my neck. Still, his fury refuses to die down.

“Did you for a second think your little phobia protects you from me?” Lorenzo whispers against my ear, his hot breath sends a wave of violent shudder down my spine. His hand slides down my torso, his palm mapping the curve of my waist, a ruthless, bruising friction that claims my bare skin. “Nothing shields you from me. You are mine, piccola. Every beautiful, broken, untouched piece of you belongs to the monster you so desperately despise.”

I stare up at him, air leaving my lungs totally as my mouth remains slightly open, exhibiting painful, shallow gasps, tears running freely down my eyes.

I hate him.

I hate him so much.

I hate the way his hands bruise my skin, the way he fills the empty space, the way he takes exactly what he wants without a single shred of remorse.

“Hate me all you want, piccola,” he murmurs, his hand sliding lower to my thigh in a firm grip, his fingers digging into my flesh as he presses his heavy length against my center, letting me feel the exact weight of his threath. “Cry for me. Let me feel exactly how much you despise me.”

I bite my lower lip until it bleeds, pain and terror radiating through every vein in my body. “You… you severed Alex’s arm because he touched me,” I murmur, blinking as more tears stream down my face. “But you are doing the exact same thing he did.”

He chuckles, a dark, gritty sound that seems to add to the ache already throbbing my bones.

“You think I did that to avenge you?” he purrs, his lips brushing against the fresh bite mark on my throat, his hand tightening its possessive hold on my bare waist. “No, no, Piccola. I took his hand because he touched what is mine! But this… this is different. I told you I never force women. But since you disobey me, I’ll take that which you value so much.”

He leans in closer, his eyes locking onto my trembling lips with a terrifying promise.

“I’m leaving you untouched tonight, Nadia. Only because I want you to look at me when I properly claim you. Prepare yourself, because very soon I’ll be taking what no man has ever laid hands on. And I’ll make sure you remember every single second of it.”

His expression darkens further, dropping the temperature in the car to zero degree so . “I own you, Nadia. And I’ll use you however I like, whenever I want to.”