Mated To The Mafia Werewolves

Sighing once again, Arabella tightly gripped the car door handle. With a deep breath, she let her hand slide down. Peering through the closed window at the driver, she inquired, “Do you have any idea when Sandro will be coming out?”

“I don’t have that information,” Mr. Rex replied, lifting his gaze from his phone to meet Arabella’s eyes. “I’m sure he’ll join us shortly. And don’t worry; I’ve promised to keep you safe.”

Arabella drew in a ragged breath and slumped in her seat. She had been stuck in the car for four hours. Once they had reached what seemed like the middle of nowhere, all she could see were trees swaying and nothing else.

Sandro had disappeared into the dense forest. Although she couldn’t pinpoint his exact location, she was certain he had halted at the large house visible from her seat. Amid her concern about Sandro’s absence, what troubled her most was the lonely road they were on.

In the distance, the howls of wolves and the barking of dogs reached her ears. The sounds grew louder as she listened intently. Her stomach churned, and her heart raced. She rubbed her clammy palms on the dress she wore, pondering whether Sandro had encountered…

“No,” she mumbled, shaking her head. Despite her disdain for him, she didn’t wish for him to die just yet. She wanted him to suffer for his sins. However, the prospect of his death wouldn’t sadden her. Instead, it would bring excitement and the promise of freedom. Yet, she doubted that scenario.

Sandro was a formidable opponent. He didn’t strike her as someone who would quickly back down without a fight. She believed he could emerge victorious against anyone he faced.

Arabella’s ears twitched, and she was startled as Mr. Rex shouted, “Something’s not right!”

“What’s the matter?” Her brows furrowed as she looked at him.

“We’re surrounded.”

“By whom?”

In response to her question, something forcefully collided with the car. Arabella gasped and clung to the headrest of the front passenger seat.

“What’s going on?” she asked as the car roared to life.

Mr. Rex drove like a maniac, paying no heed to her question.

“Are you intentionally trying to get me killed?!” Arabella screeched as the car came to an abrupt stop. “Where the hell is Sandro, and what the…”

“I’m here, darling,” Sandro mumbled as he slid into the seat beside her.

Frowning, Arabella flinched, gazing at him with wide eyes.

“H-How did you…?” She stammered, her words trailing off.

“Get here?” Sandro finished her sentence for her.

“Yes,” Arabella nodded.

“It’s not important,” Sandro mumbled. He then turned to Mr. Rex. “Drive us home.”

“Si,” Mr. Rex acknowledged.

“Something happened back there, but I can’t seem to figure out what it was. I need an explanation,” Arabella pressed as Mr. Rex navigated them home.

“Drop it,” Sandro grunted.

“Why? Were we being pursued?”

Sandro’s eyes narrowed, and he scowled. He couldn’t fathom why she persisted asking when he had already told her not to. The blame lay squarely on those idiotic werewolves. He was sure they wouldn’t have attacked if they had recognized the car as his. Then again, he had no shortage of enemies. At least, not within the territory he now occupied as its Alpha.

Sandro held dominion over all the werewolves in Cooan. The title of the leader of all Alphas had been passed down to him through his ancestry. He was confident that the attacking werewolves had fled upon sensing his presence. He pondered what they had wanted and what had drawn them to his car in the first place.

Sandro clasped Arabella’s hand and pulled her closer. Instead of addressing her question, his lips found her neck. He pressed hot, delicate kisses onto her skin while his free hand slipped beneath her dress.

“Stop, Sandro!” Arabella’s voice was firm as she tried to push him away.

Sandro held onto her hands, keeping them above her head despite the cramped confines of the car. His long legs entwined with hers, and he covered her mouth with his.

“No,” Arabella protested, shaking her head.

“You’ll only hurt yourself if you keep struggling.”

Arabella gasped as Sandro not only nipped at her bottom lip but also slid his hand between her legs, finding her wetness.

She attempted to push him away, but he slipped a finger inside her, causing her resistance to melt away.

“What do you call me?” Sandro rasped in her ear as he thrust in faster.

“Master!” Arabella shouted.

Involuntarily, she widened her thighs for him to get more access, and her eyes rolled inside her head as pleasure surged through her.

She gripped his hand, her legs spasming, and she panted.

“Sandro,”This is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Master!’ Sandro corrected.

Arabella shook her head, tears clouding her vision. “Please, stop.”

Her mind didn’t want him. Heck, she didn’t want to do what he was doing to her, and she had vowed not to respond, but her body was betraying her over again.

“You want me, Arabella. Stop fighting it.” Sandro said.

Arabella shook her head, “I do not.”

“You have no choice to make. You are mine, and I’ll make sure to claim you tonight.” Sandro vowed, going in for a kiss.

The car skidded to a halt.

Arabella heaved a breath as his finger slipped out of her. He stepped down from the car and strode inside while she jogged after him.

She was grateful for the interruption. At least she had a lot of time to collect her thoughts and plan everything she needed before he came to her tonight.

Arabella sighed as she climbed into the hot tub Janice had prepared for her. She shut her eyes and hummed.

The only thing she enjoyed about her prison-Sandro’s house- was the warm bath she often had.

She never had the privilege when she lived alone.

“I can watch you forever this way.”

Arabella’s eyes snapped open, and she stood from the jacuzzi. She sat back down as she realized she was naked.

She wondered how he had gotten in without her realizing it.

“What do you want, Sandro, can’t I have a bath without an interruption from you? Do you have to invade my privacy each time just to satisfy your perverted mind?”

Arabella shot him a dirty look.

Sandro chuckled as he walked toward her.

He squatted near the jacuzzi, and he caressed her cheek. His hand wandered from her cheeks to her breasts.

Arabella sucked in a deep breath as he rubbed her nipples before fondling her breasts. From her breasts, his hand moved lower to her stomach and her core.

“You enjoy this, right? You are curious to see what I can do to make you want more?”

Arabella glared at him. “I enjoy nothing.”

“Perhaps, this…” Sandro trailed off as his finger slipped into her.

His eyes twinkled as she gasped and jerked.

Arabella’s eyes widened in shock, and she attempted to stand, but Sandro gripped her thigh.

“Just go with the flow.” He mumbled.

“I am going with no flow; you are my foe.”

“A foe willing to fuck a slut like you. You should be grateful, darling,, and it’s high time you stopped fighting.”

Before she could help herself, Arabella slapped him hard on his cheek, “I am not a whore!”

“Then, I’ll make you one,” Sandro said, yanking her out of the hot tub.