All Chapters of His To Claim: The Mafia's Possession : Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

****Does that mean I'll die?**** I feel pain radiate through me as my assailant tugs me harshly from the ground and slings the dagger around my throat. I hear his harsh, fast breathing as he begins to back away. “Please, stop…don’t kill me. Take my bag…” I plead, but he doesn’t stop. Two heavily built men step out of the car and into the dimly lit street. Their steps are fast but so is the assailant holding me captive. “Don’t fucking move or I’ll slit her throat.” He growls, backpedaling while the men keep hightailing it towards us. I'm not able to make out their faces completely but I see the sharp contours of the man by the right. The dark stubble on his jaw, his height and brisk movement, and his dark hair. They are all too familiar. I confirm my suspicions fully when I hear the familiar man's deep, dark voice. “Let her go!” He yells, his feet moving faster. The man imprisoning me in his grasp curses under his breath. He seems confused and out of plan on how to run away with

***A replacement?*** “Time to sleep.” Dima says casually as he shoos me to the bed. The dizzying, tender kiss he gives me has my head reeling, my inside growing warm with need. I feel how embarrassingly drenched my panties are. It takes all my confidence and pride not to pull him in for another kiss, not to beg him to pull my panties down and locate his finger in my swollen cunt. “Here…” He murmurs as he sits me on the bed and begins to pull off my blood-soaked jacket and shirt. “Where should I throw this?” He asks with a cocked brow and I instinctively frown at his words. He just asked where he can throw my jacket and shirt away? Something I bought from my favorite thrift store and has used for over a year now. I try to stand up and snatch the fabric from him but he ducks back. “You can’t struggle this with me, Dawn. You'll open your wounds.” He says, coolly. It’s true though, the nurses told me to be cautious in what I do so as not to open the wounds again. If possible I shoul

***You know I'm a mafia?*** As Dima looms over me, my heart begins to hammer crazily against my chest. He looks into my eyes with his midnight ones and I feel as though he's looking at my soul. Chills rise up in my spine. My palms are now slick with sweat. His appealing lather, Male scent caresses my nostrils. My attraction for him grows tenfold. I don’t know why I didn’t resist his orders these past two days. I went along with whatever he provided but all the while my mind was filled with thoughts about him. I woke up from sleep two hours ago, sweating because of the daydream I had where Dima was fucking me. I immediately began to feel my insanely soaked panties. Lilly rushed to me, trying to placate me because I was gasping for breath. The way Dima fucked me in the dream was so violent yet pleasurable. A pure blend of pleasure and pain. In the dream, he shackled me to a bedpost face down and bunch up my hips with the pillows he set underneath me. I stole a glance at him from

***Horny priest.*** We exit the coffee shop with Dima holding my hand in his. It’s rough, tight, and soothing at the same time. He holds me as though he’s afraid I’d run. But scratch that, I’m not running from him again. I've come to accept him. His claims and ownership over me, I can see it’s not something I can escape. The man before me can and will do anything to pin me with him. He can find me even if I decide to run. He wants me as much as I want him. Yes, the kiss we shared a while ago is firm proof of that. He's a bratva member which makes him unavoidable, and inescapable from. Dima Kozlov has claimed me. It’s the truth I have to live with. The past few days have proven that to me. Going through the stress of finding a replacement for me at work, convincing my lecturers to share materials online with me, getting me a computer, and so on. He might be lethal, dangerous but he cares for me. Something I’ve never in my whole life thought I'd experience. I grew up hankering for

****Who Owns Her.**** “These are some of the studio apartment I have for you, sir.” The realtor tries to pitch his voice above the music blaring in the club. Benson’s club. After I dropped Dawn this afternoon I had to return to Newfield for some work which took nearly six hours of my time. My portfolio manager literally clued me in on some of the newest things worth investing in, like a new shell company that was established in Morocco. Aside from my factory in Russia and some other shady businesses I do as a mafia I make series of investments in whatever I see potential in, for instance this newest oil company in Morocco. When my portfolio manager who happens to be an American told me about this, I had to seize the opportunity and gave him a go ahead order. I literally met the guy during the party we attended in Colombia. He came along with one of the mafia bosses he works for and introduced himself to me. When he told me what he specifically does I had to seize th