Chapter 135
Aria’s POV
I was trembling–my body raw, my mind spinning. Dante’s presence still hung heavy, like a storm cloud refusing to leave. My skin burned where his hands had been, but it was something deeper inside me that stoked a fire I couldn’t control.
The air felt thick, charged with tension. Enzo’s eyes were on me, dark and hungry. He sat not far away, one hand slowly tracing circles on his thigh, the other hidden, but I could feel the heat of his gaze. Matteo stood by the wall, silent, arms crossed, jaw tight, fighting some battle within himself. Their looks pulled at me, like I was some fragile bird caught in a web–and they were the hunters, but also the desperate prey.
Then Dante stepped back inside.
His eyes locked on me, cold and commanding. “Enough waiting.”
Before I could catch my breath, Enzo moved first. His steps quick, but deliberate as he closed the gap between us. His hands were gentle, but urgent as they found my wrists and slipped the restraints free. My pulse hammered in my ears. I wanted to beg, scream, run–but my body betrayed me, already aching for more.
Matteo was there too, his fingers brushing my cheek with unexpected tenderness, his touch like a whisper that made my skin shiver. His eyes held pain–like he was tearing himself apart inside. But still, he reached for me, pulling me closer, grounding me.
Dante’s voice was low and dark. “You belong to us now. All of us.”
I shivered, caught between fear and something strange–excitement, maybe? Enzo’s hand slid down my side, tracing slow, heated lines that left me breathless. Matteo’s lips pressed to my neck, his breath hot against my skin, sending tremors through me.
They were all touching me–different, desperate touches. Enzo’s hunger was wild, Matteo’s restraint fierce, and Dante… Dante was the storm around us, watching, waiting, owning me.
My hands found Matteo’s shirt, clutching it tight as I leaned into Enzo’s touch. Their hands moved with purpose, with need, and I let go- letting myself fall apart and be put back together by them.
Whispers filled the room–soft promises, rough commands. I didn’t know who said what anymore, only that every touch, every glance, every breath was a promise I couldn’t refuse.
The chaos built, a wild tide rising in my veins. I felt torn open, exposed, and yet so alive–so wanted. Tears slipped down my cheeks–not from pain, but from overwhelming release, from being seen and claimed.
Enzo’s voice was rough as he leaned close. “You’re ours, Aria. All of you.”
Matteo’s fingers tightened, grounding me when the storm inside got too wild.
Dante’s gaze never left me, dark and possessive.
I was breaking. Falling. Flying.
And all at once, everything I feared and desired crashed into me–and I let it.
Their hands moved with purpose, guiding me holding me close. The heat between us grew, thick and pulsing like a living thing. I their bodies pressing against mine, every inch claiming me, filling spaces I didn’t know needed filling.
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Enzo’s strength was steady, grounding me as he moved slowly, deeply–his touch telling me everything words couldn’t. Matteo’s lips and hands followed, tender but hungry, tracing lines of fire along my skin. Their presence surrounded me, safe yet wild.
It wasn’t just their bodies–it was the way they made me feel seen, wanted, needed. The world narrowed to the rise and fall of breath, the steady rhythm inside me, the electricity of connection that made me tremble.
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Chapter 135
Every motion spoke of promise and possession. I was theirs–held and held tight, breaking and building all at once.
And in that shared silence, I let go
Their hands finally loosened, and I sagged against them, trembling–not just from everything that had happened, but from the sudden quiet that filled the room.
Enzo pulled me close first, his breath warm against my hair. His touch softened, fingers tracing slow, gentle circles on my back. Matteo was right there too, his hands steady but tender, cupping my face with surprising care.
I closed my eyes, letting their warmth hold me safe. The ache inside me softened, replaced by a quiet pulse of comfort. Their steady presence was like an anchor after the wild storm.
Enzo whispered low, “You did good, Aria. We’re here.”
Matteo’s voice was rough but soft: “No rush. We stay right here with you.”
I felt small in their arms, but not weak–protected. The way they cared for me now, after everything, made me realize something deep inside.
Maybe this chaos was messy and dark, but it was also real. And maybe, just maybe, I could learn to trust it–and them.
Their hands didn’t stop moving–they brushed through my hair, traced the lines of my jaw, and held my trembling fingers like I was fragile glass. Enzo’s voice was low, almost a rumble, “You’re safe now. No more hiding.”
Matteo’s eyes never left mine. “We want you, Aria. All of you. No secrets.” His fingers curled around my wrist, grounding me.
I wanted to speak, to say something real, but my voice was thick. Instead, I let myself lean into them, into the heat and quiet strength they offered.
Slowly, they helped me up from where I’d fallen back. The room felt different now–less heavy, less cold. Like we had crossed some invisible
line.
Enzo’s hand slid to the small of my back, guiding me gently. Matteo stayed close, his presence a quiet promise.
And in that moment, something inside me shifted. I wasn’t just their plaything or their secret anymore.
I was part of this–the messy, wild, confusing bond we shared.
And I was ready to fight for it
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