Page 4 of Mafia King's Ruthless Obsession

Time stills. Only the thunder of my heart beats in my ears as I let the sensations wash over me.

Warmth surrounds me, embracing me so tightly, I’m afraid I’ll lose my damn mind to this pleasure. Sweat beads on my forehead. When I push into her fully, a guttural sound tumbles from my lips, revealing far too much. Holding on to a shred of my sanity, I retreat and then ram back inside her, my desperation bordering on feral.

There are no sweet nothings.

No whispered prayers.

Just ragged breaths, broken moans, and grunts punctuating each violent thrust.

Never have I stood this close to death, not with death herself writhing in my fucking hands. Galina’s always been a blade, but now she’s honed to something crueler—serrated, meant to carve me from the inside out. And the worst part? She isn’t even flinching. Her eyes burn with defiance, lips slick with sin, while her tongue—fuck, that goddamn tongue—is dragging over my finger like she’s tasting how far she can push me before Isnap. Every flick is a dare. A promise. A threat. And I’m right there, trembling on the edge, ready to either destroy her or fall to pieces.

Tightening my grip around her throat, I hold her still as I thrust into her balls deep. “There’s only one way I will fuck you,” I growl as I bury myself deeper and deeper into her. Harder. Faster. “Rough and merciless.”

Underneath my grip, I feel the muscles in her neck strain. She moves against me, urging me on with more friction, pressure, and desperation, her tight channel convulsing around me in a powerful release. But she doesn’t slow down.

Fucking hell. If I don’t regain control, she’ll be the end of me.

The tempo of my strokes sharpens and increases until beads of sweat drip down my back and temples. Yet no matter how hard I thrust, Galina doesn’t cry out. Her eyes are locked on mine, and I let the storm raging inside me unleash, claiming her like the beast she’s created. Like I’m trying to break her body.

Like I’m trying to break her soul.

Mine is long gone.

The past year has seen to that.

My release is a hurricane, cutting through all coherence and leaving behind only the twisted web of need wrapping around my flesh.

By the time I finally slow down, I’ve barely enough energy left to push her back against the cold tiles, dislodging myself from her.

Satisfaction floods my veins. A fitting epilogue to this blood-soaked chapter of my life—finding redemption or damnation in the arms of my enemy.

Galina sprawls before me, wrecked and radiant, her mask shattered beyond repair. What’s left is raw—untamed hunger and defiance threaded through the wreckage. Her emerald eyesstill burn like she’s plotting rebellion, even as her body hums with the proof of surrender.

I drag my thumb across her mouth, smearing what’s left of her lipstick like blood on a battlefield. Her ruined panties dangle from my fingers, a warped souvenir of the damage we just did. I offer them back like a dare, and her smile—twisted and knowing—hits me like a knife between the ribs.

She’s daring me to want more.

To fall harder.

To lose again.

This should be the end. We are gasoline and flame—violent, volatile, destined to burn everything down. But then she tilts her head, her voice a husky purr that lands like a gunshot to the gut.

“Your room or mine?”

The question isn’t innocent. It’s a goddamn grenade.

And just like that, every bit of resolve I have goes up in smoke.

Chapter 2

The Morning After Destruction

Galina

Dawn bleeds through the curtains like a wound, casting accusatory fingers of light across an unfamiliar ceiling. My head pounds with the dull rhythm of regret, each throb a reminder of vodka-soaked decisions and sins written on skin. The sheets twisted around my body smell of him—expensive cologne layered over something darker, more primal.

Vasiliy’s presence fills the room like gathering thunder, a storm waiting to break. His measured breathing behind me suggests sleep, but I know better—a man like him never truly rests. These borrowed moments let me catalog my failures in the growing light.

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