Mated To The Mafia Werewolves

Thalia hesitated as she opened the door and stepped into the dimly lit room. Her eyes narrowed as she surveyed her surroundings.

Despite the darkness, her werewolf senses allowed her to navigate with ease. Utilizing her secondary eyes, designed to see clearly in the dark, she moved forward. Such heightened senses were common among werewolves and certain other supernatural beings.

Spotting Sandro at the bar nestled in a corner, Thalia’s attention was drawn to his back, his muscles flexing as he reached for a champagne bottle.

“You’re early,” he remarked, his tone dripping with surprise.

“You didn’t exactly leave me much choice,” Thalia retorted, rolling her eyes.

Seating herself on a leather couch positioned at the room’s center, she crossed her legs and cast a quick glance at the dress she was wearing, making sure it was appropriate.

The silver knee-length dress, short-sleeved and form-fitting, accentuated her curves. She believed this was the only aspect of herself that might captivate him, having carefully chosen a neckline that revealed nothing, ultimately settling on a round neck. It was an unusual choice for her but surprisingly comforting in Sandro’s presence.

Sandro swirled his champagne glass, taking a sip before moving towards Thalia. Folding her arms across her chest, she met his gaze head-on.

“I admire your defiance,” Sandro smirked, studying her intently.

“Your approval is not my concern,” Thalia shot back, her tone unyielding. “I want to know why you brought me here.”

Approaching her, Sandro took her hand in his, guiding her to stand before a vanity mirror.

“Thalia, my dear,” he whispered, his tone dripping with intimacy, “Why in the world are you wearing this atrocious dress instead of the one I gave you?”

He playfully nibbled her earlobe, his hands caressing her breasts. Thalia’s body quivered, her lips caught between her teeth as his proximity sent a shiver down her spine-unwanted moisture pooled between her legs.

“Betrayal,” she muttered, glaring at her own reflection in the mirror.

“Go with the flow. You could use some action anyway,” Cass, her wolf, whispered in her mind.

Thalia’s hands clenched. Cass often had the most audacious suggestions. She couldn’t fathom why she was drawn to someone as ruthless as Sandro, desiring him as a mate when there were kinder men around. It was as if her desires were the opposite of what she herself wanted.

“This needs to stop. It’s been five years since we ended things, and I’ve moved on. Whatever you’re attempting won’t work,” Thalia declared, her determination evident.

Trying to extricate herself from his grasp, she struggled, only to find his grip tightening.

“Yet here you are, not exactly pushing me away if you didn’t want my touch,” he retorted, his gaze locked on her in the mirror.

Thalia’s expression twisted in discomfort. Lust burned in his sea-green eyes, their usual hue darkening with want. She knew they wouldn’t return to their normal color unless he found release.

She understood the primal nature of werewolves when it came to intimacy their behavior differed markedly from that of humans. Emotion often drove them, particularly after triggering their curse. Only those who hadn’t triggered their transformation maintained a semblance of rationality, but not always.

“Tell me you don’t want me,” Sandro demanded, his voice a raspy plea.

“I don’t want you,” Thalia stated firmly, her gaze meeting his through the mirror.ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

Gasping as he spun her around, she tried to shove him, but he effortlessly pulled her against him.

His lips captured hers, a nibble on her lower lip making her wince. He seized the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth. His hand, previously in her hair, slid to her backside, squeezing.

“Sandro…” Thalia moaned.

“We’re both in need; denying it won’t change that. I see how badly you want me,” he said.

“I don’t-” Thalia’s protest faltered as his hand moved down her thigh, widening her eyes as he reached her panties, already soaked with her desire.

Sandro’s smirk lingered as their kiss broke. “I’ve been telling you you want this,” he remarked, his tone dripping with confidence.

Thalia’s moan escaped as he began rubbing her through her panties. She clutched his hand, biting her lip to stifle her response.

“This,” he continued, his touch evoking a reaction from her, “it’s proof you’re craving me inside you right now.”

She whispered, “No, you’re just imagining things.”

In one swift motion, Sandro scooped her up, prompting her to shriek and pound his chest at the sudden movement.

“Put me down!”

“Keep your voice down,” Sandro admonished, his tone low. “We don’t need everyone knowing we’re up to something. I don’t mind, but your dignity is at stake.”

“Dignity?!” Thalia scoffed as he deposited her onto the bed.

“Not that I’d mind you screaming my name while I take you,” he retorted, “but I don’t want it to seem like I’m forcing you.”

“That’s new, Sandro. You never cared about others’ feelings,” Thalia retorted.

“Perhaps,” he chuckled, a dark edge to his amusement.

As Thalia gazed at him, she realized she didn’t truly understand the man before her. He was both a monster and capable of human-like gestures. He had kept so much hidden that not even his family(Pack members) knew the real him. He was even more mysterious than Blaze, and she wondered how people managed to coexist with him.

“Enough talking,” he declared abruptly. “Let’s get down to business.”

Without warning, he descended on her, tearing her dress. Thalia emitted a startled shriek, instantly silenced as his hand covered her mouth.

The hunger she had seen in his eyes earlier returned full force.

“I want to taste you,” Sandro growled, lowering himself before her and parting her thighs.

Thalia shook her head instinctively, knowing she had lost this battle as his face pressed against her thigh.

Arching her back, she clutched the duvet as his finger replaced his tongue’s presence. Sandro hastened his pace, swiftly discarding his shirt with a practiced hand.

“Damn it!” Thalia hissed, her eyes widening as he entered her slickness.

She couldn’t understand how he managed to swiftly shed his pants, though she refrained from voicing her thoughts aloud to avoid stroking his already considerable ego. Her desire for him was undeniable, even if unspoken.

“I didn’t expect you to be this tight,” Sandro grunted.

“I didn’t expect you to be this massive,” Thalia retorted, a moan escaping her as she entwined her legs around his waist, inviting his movements.

Sandro closed his eyes, but almost instantly, an image of Arabella’s supple form wriggling beneath him surfaced in his mind. He clenched his jaw, his fingers wrapping around Thalia’s neck as he growled, “Bitch.”

“Sandro!” Thalia gasped, her hand gripping his. “You’re choking me!”

“I did promise I’d make your life hell,” he taunted, a smirk playing on his lips. “And I’m not planning on going easy anytime soon.”

Struggling to breathe, Thalia attempted to remove his iron grip, finding it nearly impossible. It was clear he was deriving some twisted satisfaction from her suffering, and if she didn’t intervene, her chances of survival seemed slim.

“Sandro!” she managed to say with authority, nudging him urgently.

His trance broken, he released her neck abruptly, gasping for air as he let go of her. Thalia furrowed her brow, perplexed as he withdrew from her, his hand clutching his neck.

“What’s the matter?” she inquired, stepping off the bed and moving toward him, unconcerned about her own nudity.

“Don’t come any closer!” Sandro snarled, his posture defensive and predatory.