Bound To My Mafia Stepuncles novel Chapter 123

Aria’s POV

My body is boneless. I can’t move, can’t think. Just lie there, legs spread, skin sticky with sweat and come, heart racing like it wants to tear out of my chest. I feel raw. Used. Worshipped. Ruined.

And I love it.

Fingers brush my cheek, slow and soft. A hand slides down my trembling thigh, tracing the bruises blooming from earlier grips. Lips press against my temple. Their touches are gentle now, so gentle it almost breaks me. The contrast makes my eyes sting.

“You’re ours now,” one of them murmurs. I don’t know which. It doesn’t matter. The words burn into my chest like a brand.

Another lifts me into strong arms, carrying me through the open door into the warm bathroom. The light is low, golden, like honey on the walls. A tub is already full, steam rising, the scent of something floral and clean wrapping around me.

They lower me into the water, and I gasp at the heat. It sinks into my muscles, unwinding everything. Hands follow. Three sets. Washing me, touching me. Not for sex. Just… to care. One of them cups water and pours it over my shoulders. Another soaps a cloth and slides it down my spine. A thumb circles my knee. Gentle. Worshipful.

I can’t stop shaking. They don’t tease me for it. They only hold me closer.

“Look at you,” someone says. “So good for us. So fucking good.”

I lean back into the tub, closing my eyes as their hands keep moving. One tilts my chin. Another trails fingers down my thigh. Someone brushes my lips with theirs, slow and deep, no urgency, just possession. I melt.

When they pull me from the water, I’m wrapped in a towel, body limp. I let them guide me, dry me, carry me back to the massive bed. My hair is damp against my back, and I shiver from the air, but they press around me, warm and solid, shielding me from everything.

Strawberries brush my lips. I open them. The fruit is sweet, cool, a little messy. They take turns feeding me–tiny bites of chocolate, bits of pastry. It’s slow. Intimate. Their eyes never leave me.

A hand cups my jaw, thumb dragging across my bottom lip. “No one else has ever touched you like this,” he whispers. His voice is low, possessive, sharp as velvet. “No one ever will.”

Another strokes the inside of my thigh, voice a rasp. “Only we get to see you like this. All messy and fucked out. Our perfect little toy.”

My body aches. Between my legs, I’m sore and sticky. I should feel embarrassed. But all I feel is full. Marked. Claimed.

Their touches return, but softer now. One lies behind me, chest to my back, arms tight around my waist. Another lays in front, pulling my leg over his hip, stroking circles into my thigh. The third tangles his fingers in my hair, brushing it away from my face like I’m something fragile.

One of them leans close–his voice a dark whisper against my ear, hot and dripping with sin. “No one’s ever touched you like this, have they?” His words feel like velvet and fire, sliding down my spine. I try to answer, to shake my head, but my voice is lost beneath the weight of sensation. His hand cups my cheek, gentle now, almost reverent, thumb brushing away a tear I didn’t even know had fallen. “You’re ours now,” another murmurs, his lips ghosting over my shoulder. “Every gasp, every moan, every part of this sweet little body–no one else gets to have you like this.” My heart pounds so loud it drowns out everything else. I feel them everywhere–mouths, hands, voices–a storm I never want to escape. “Say it,” the first one growls. “Say you belong to us.” My lips tremble, body trembling harder, but I nod, breathless, broken in hest way. “I’m yours,” I whisper. “All yours.”

Matteo grips my jaw, tilting my face up until I’m drowning in his dark, hungry gaze. “Look at you,” he murmurs, voice thick with pride and heat. “Completely ruined–and we’re not even done.” His thumb drags along my lower lip before slipping inside, slow and demanding. “Suck,” he breathes, and I obey, wrapping my lips around it as my lashes flutter. He groans low, eyes hooded. “Good girl… you feel that? No one’s ever touched you like this. No one ever will, Behind me, Enzo’s hands roam down my ribs, rough and possessive as he squeezes my waist. “Every inch of this body,” he growls against my neck, teeth grazing my skin, “belongs to us. You were made for this–for us.” His hips grind into me, slow but deep, and I whimper, completely unraveling. Then there’s Dante, kneeling in front of me, watching with dark amusement as he strokes

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Chapter 123

my cheek. “You’re already forgetting everything, aren’t you?” he murmurs. “Your name, your thoughts… all that matters now is us. His fingers tangle in my hair, tugging until I’m staring up at him. “No one will ever fuck you like this. No one will ever wreck you the way we do. And in that moment, I know he’s right–because I’ve never felt more wanted. More alive. More theirs.

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