All Chapters of His To Claim: The Mafia's Possession : Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

>>>>With the girl.>>>>> I storm into my office, feeling annoyed and press my fingers at the bridge of my nose. A while ago I was buzzing with excitement after my long night with Dawn. Well, I still am, it’s just that the news I heard is trying to kill the happiness within me. I wonder if Dawn noticed my changed mood. I hope she doesn’t, really. Though, she has oftentimes agreed to know mafias does shady things, I still can’t bring myself to let her see exactly the kinds of things I do. Akim and Leonid just told me about the little progress they've made in torturing our prisoner and milking the truth from him. That corporation surely trains boys to give their life instead of the truth because despite being tortured and starved, the guy hasn’t made an attempt to tell us the truth about the owner of their corporation. I managed to go check him out when my audio call with Stalin ends. He said he has some important news to share with me and we should switch over to video

****Giving me pleasure.***** My hunger for Dima fester as he completely bites down on my lips like a hungry lion. He feed on me like he's feeding on his prey. I’m vaguely aware of the fact that we’re in a gym and anyone can walk in on us doing this naughty thing. “Dima…” I break away and try to speak but again, Dima dives into my mouth, rocking his tongue against mine, our breaths collides. He slants my head to be able to penetrate deeper as much as he can and he did. He forays deeper into the depth of my mouth, sheathing his lower lip and tongue as he duels it against mine. My legs buckle, my hands wind at the back of his head as he sucks all my breath and energy while giving me pleasure. A suffocating pleasure. I moan into his mouth and he growls. “Fuck…baby…” He muses and begins to kiss my jaw and the corners of my mouth down to my throat. He swirls his tongue over the skin on the column of my neck as I feel my pussy liquefying when he kisses a soft spot beneath my

****The conveyor.**** We lie on the bed with Dawn’s head pillowed on my arm while one of her arms rests across my stomach. My legs are crossed at the ankles, my gaze pinned on the ceiling. We’re both panting excessively from the exercise and our skin is covered with sweat and cum but I can’t bring myself to leave this bed. The intimate position we lie on is one I’ve never experienced and right now, I can’t tell you how much I love it. I want Dawn to lay over me, to crush her sweaty skin over mine so that we'll be so connected and inseparable. Her curiosity hasn’t doused, she literally wants to know where I was. “Being busy with work.” I muse and begin to fist my fingers through her blonde hair. “What kind of work? Do you by any chance own a company here in the States?” She begins to pat her hand over my scars, sending tingles deep within me. My mind is adrift with shits about Nina Makarova and the fact that I’m a wanted person in the underworld now but with Dawn by my side, thos

>>>>Get in the car, Dawn.>>>>> I leap toward my closet, perusing it for the dress I’m going to wear to school while Lilly bombards me with questions about Dima. I can’t call him my boyfriend because he’s basically claiming me as his property. From all the things I've read in novels and heard people saying, a boyfriend doesn’t claim his girl the way Dima does. He doesn’t threaten to kill the people around me. However, Dima isn’t like other men. He’s different. He’s a mafia. Seeing that Lilly isn’t ready to drop the topic, I whirl around and spare her a glance. “What can I say?” She lifts her shoulders in a shrug. “That he's your boyfriend?” I don’t know how long I’ll keep denying it. It won’t last. I guess as long as Dima stays here in America. I’ll be his possession until he flies back to Eastern Europe. I already have proof of that. Coming to me after five days of being away and knowing so much about Peter is enough proof. He’s not done with me. Until he’s done, I’m his whic

>>>>Don't drag me.>>>>> I cursed inwardly at the image that invaded my mind when I dropped Dawn earlier in school, at that point when I slide my hand through her golden blonde hair. It’s an image of the man from my past. The man whom my mother had doted on but was physically and emotionally hurt all the damn time I see her. Vladimir. It was as if Dawn has just the same features as him. Now, I’m beginning to sense where this familiarity comes from. But I had to shove it away because it can’t possibly be the truth. It can’t be. No. I shook inwardly as I try to push the thought away. Vladimir had one daughter named Nastja Vladimirovna. A girl who was barely six and was infinitely secured in the four walls of her father’s house. Not everyone was opportune to see the girl. She was his little printsessa. Vladimir loved her with every drop of his blood because her mother died when giving birth to her which is why he protects her with his life. Only a few were able to see Nastja Vladi