Summary of Chapter 225 – A turning point in Bound To My Mafia Stepuncles by Free Collection
Chapter 225 immerses the reader in an emotional journey within the world of Bound To My Mafia Stepuncles, written by Free Collection. With the hallmarks of Alpha literature, this chapter balances emotion, tension, and revelation. Perfect for readers seeking narrative depth and authentic human connections.
Chapter 225
POV: Aria
Their lips never left me after that first kiss. Enzo’s mouth was still warm against mine when Matteo tugged me closer and – caught my check in his palm, brushing his lips against my jaw. Dante’s hand held steady at my waist, grounding me while he leaned down to press a kiss to the hollow of my throat. It was dizzying, the
way they passed me back and forth like 1 belonged to all of them. Each kiss landed softer than I expected. Their hands were firm on my body but careful, as if I were breakable glass, and that gentleness lit something deep inside me. It was not their usual roughness, not the hunger I had grown used to. This was slower, sweeter, as if they were savoring me. And against all reason, I smiled into their mouths, smiling even as my body shook with need.
I clung to them, desperate not to let go. My fingers curled into the fabric of their shirts, holding tight like they were the only thing keeping me standing. My feet barely touched the floor before Dante bent and lifted me fully into his arms. I gasped, startled, but his strength was steady and unyielding, and I relaxed into his chest. Matteo and Enzo walked on either side of us, stealing little kisses at my temple, my cheek, even the corner of my lips whenever Dante tilted me toward them. The world of the basement fell behind us step by step, the cold and heavy air fading until we reached the warmth of the upstairs hall.
Dante laid me carefully on the bed, his body hovering above mine without pressing me down. He looked at me like he was measuring every breath I took. Matteo slid onto the mattress at my left side, Enzo at my right, their presence caging me in without walls. I could feel them everywhere, their heat and their strength and their breath against my skin.
The teasing began slow. Dante’s shadow covered me, his weight not crushing but firm, steady, like he could hold me in place with nothing but his gaze. Matteo lowered his mouth to the line of my jaw, lips dragging down to my collarbone, where he sucked lightly until a small sound escaped me. Enzo mirrored him on the other side, his teeth grazing me just enough to make my breath catch. Their mouths were hot, deliberate, each kiss a mark of possession. I squirmed beneath them, my body caught between heat and need, until every nerve felt alive and aching.
It became too much. I wanted more. My hands shook as I reached up, fumbling with the buttons of Dante’s shirt. My fingers tugged at the fabric, desperate for the feel of his skin beneath my palms. For a second I thought he would let me, but then his hands caught mine. He pressed my wrists into the mattress, firm but not painful. His voice came low, almost rough, but unyielding. “No.”
I blinked up at him, stunned. “Why?” My voice came out breathless, sharp with confusion.
His gaze was steady, his tone almost scolding but still warm. “You are not healed. You are not ready.”
Matteo brushed a hand over the bandage on my head, his fingers gentle as a whisper. “You still wear this,” he said softly. “We will not touch you the way you want until it is gone.”
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