We're one.
His hands on my hips, he lifts me up and down on his length, each stroke of his cock making me want to die of pure pleasure.
"You have no idea," I barely manage the words out, "how much I love you." I say in between moans.
Flesh slapping against flesh, his arms are tight around my waist as he pushes his cock even deeper inside of me, the strength of his thrusts doubling my pleasure.
"I do, Sisi, I do," he speaks against my cheek, and I can feel the sweat clinging to his skin, "because I feel the same."
Grabbing my jaw with one hand, he turns my head around, his mouth on mine as he swallows my cries. He pushes his tongue into my mouth, kissing me with an intensity that has my entire body weeping with unimaginable bliss.
"Yes," I whimper when I feel him even deeper.
That's when I realize that I want everything he has to offer. Not just this gentle fucking. I want to feel his savagery in my bones, the way he pounds into me as if he might break me.
Just thinking about him taking me like a beast has my pussy clench up in response, more juices flowing down his shaft.
Yes. I want him. The real him.
Leaning back, I urge him to switch positions so that he's on top. My back hits the mattress, my legs opening up to accommodate his pelvis.
His hands are on my waist as he keeps on thrusting into me—slow, measured thrusts that are meant for my comfort.
But I don't want that.
Now that my body realizes there's no pain, there's no more impediment to letting him take me as he wants.
Knowing he will need some coaxing, I take his hands in mine, moving them up my body until they reach my neck.
Wrapping them around my throat, I squeeze my legs shut, trapping him in place.
His hands are slack as he just looks at me, confusion mixed with desire in his eyes. But I also see something else.
Hope.
He wants this as much as I do. And when he sees the confirmation in my gaze, relief floods his features, his hands tightening over my neck, his thrusts taking a violent turn.
My mouth opens on a sound that never leaves my lips, my pussy opening up to meet each one of his maddening thrusts. I feel the way his cock reaches deep within before retreating, the base of his shaft slapping my pussy as it invades me even further. Long and thick, it manages to stimulate every sensitive spot inside of me.
He applies more pressure on the sides of my neck. Not enough to hurt me, but enough to make me lightheaded as he continues to push himself into my body, assaulting my senses with such intense pleasure, I fear I may actually black out.
He's already made me come so many times, and as I feel another orgasm near, I doubt I'll be able to take much more.
"Fucking hell, Sisi," he grits out, his fingers digging in my flesh, his hips pistoning in and out of me, "you're fucking amazing," he groans, a deep sound that reverberates in my very being. "my fucking amazing."
I hang on to him, my hands on his arms as I take everything he has to give.
Out of nowhere, he shifts me over, throwing me on my belly and spreading my legs before diving in again.
Braced on my elbows, I gasp as I realize he's much deeper than before.
How is this possible?
He drags my hips towards his, his fingers digging into my ass cheeks as he continues to impale me on his cock.
I can only push my ass into him, meeting him thrust for thrust as I focus on the feeling of finally being one with the man I love.
The only man I'll ever love.
"You're mine," he growls, his voice hoarse. His hand lands on one cheek in a resounding slap, the slight sting only enhancing the pleasure.
"More," I demand, knowing he has more to give me.
Savage. Unrestricted. Beastly.
I want all of him.
"My dirty little nun wants more," he chuckles, another slap landing on my ass. I whimper, clenching my walls around him in approval.
Then his fist is suddenly in my hair, his fingers digging in my scalp as he pulls me towards him, my back to his front. He has my hair wrapped around his fingers as he twists my head to look at him.
There's a savagery in his gaze that wasn't there before. And hell if it doesn't make me hotter, my pussy spasming around him the more he pulls at my hair.
His mouth tugs up as he notices my reaction, an arrogant smirk enveloping his features as he lowers his mouth to my ear.
"You want me to wreck you, don't you hell girl?" his deep voice sends shivers down my back, the way his warm breath fans over my ear, my entire body primed to respond to his in any way.
"Yes," I reply, struggling to keep myself from moaning out the answer.
"Good. Because I own you," he says, and his words shouldn't make me so hot. God, they really shouldn't. But in this moment all I want is to be owned by him, to be at his mercy as he does whatever he wants to my body. "I own every hole in your body," he continues, bending me forward and slamming into me even harder, the hand on my ass moving slowly down until his thumb is caressing my rear entrance.
I feel him spitting on my ass, his thumb swirling the saliva around as he pushes it into my hole, the muscles resisting at first before slowly giving way.
I gasp, the sensation wholly new but not unpleasant.
He keeps thrusting into me, his thumb imitating the same movements, and my body unable to take the double stimulation.
"Your pussy's mine." He grits out, his cock slipping almost completely out, the head teasing my entrance in a shallow thrust before fully surging inside and hitting my G spot. "Your ass is mine," his thumb slips deeper inside, and my muscles immediately tighten around him.
"Every inch of you is mine," he declares, wrenching sensations out of me I'd never thought possible.
"Yes." I moan, letting him do whatever he wants to my body. "And you're mine too," I continue, needing that confirmation.
"Yours?" He asks, almost offended. "There's no me without you, hell girl. You fucking own every piece of me," he grits out.
"My mind," thrust, "my heart," thrust "my fucking damned soul," thrust, "this cock," he says, pulling out all the way as he slaps his length against my clit before stroking it along the seam of my pussy lips, "that's never been inside another, that will never be inside another," he growls, "just like your pussy's only mine and will only ever be mine."
My heart skips a beat at his words, and I relish the way we have this unique connection.
Out of nowhere, he moves behind me. I look back to see him on his knees, his mouth on my pussy. His finger still in my ass, he continues to slowly move it in and out of me as his tongue laps at my wetness before pushing it against my entrance, twirling it around my opening as he ravenously drinks me in.
"No one," he speaks against my lips, his breath hot as he blows air over my clit and making me shiver, "no one's going to know how sweet your nectar tastes," he continues to lick me, a long swipe from my clit to my ass, the sensation shocking me as he suddenly replaces his thumb with his tongue, the tight ring of muscle relaxing and responding under his careful ministrations.
God, but I'd never dreamed about half of the things he's doing to me. It seems so dirty and forbidden and I love every single moment of it.
"Or how your tight little ass begs for my cock," he pushes his tongue inside and my eyes widen, mind-blowing pleasure shooting through me. "And you'll get it, just not now," he declares and anticipation builds inside of me.
Yes! I want everything he has to offer.
Before I can even reply he's back inside me, stroking me so deeply I want to weep.
"I love you." I cry out, both my heart and my body in alignment as an orgasm tears through me.
"I love you too, hell girl. I adore you. I fucking worship you. There's no one that compares to you," he grunts, his thrusts picking up speed. "No one that can hold a candle to you. My fucking goddess," he mutters almost incoherently.
My pussy tingles with awareness, his guttural sounds co
upled with the way his cock is still forcefully slamming into me enough to make me violently come—again—my walls spasming all around his length.
"Yes, that's it, hell girl. Come for me," he commands in my ear.
His hand wrapped in my hair, he grips it tightly as he brings me against him, my back fully fitted to his front, his mouth on my neck as he licks my scar. His other hand slowly caresses the front of my body, from my breasts lower, to my stomach before eventually settling on my clit.
Already sensitive from the many orgasms he's wrought from me, it's almost painful to the touch.
"I can't..." I trail off, unable to come again.
"Yes, you can," he states, his voice serious as his fingers continue to stimulate my clit.
My body tries to jerk away from his, but he's holding me tightly in place, his touch igniting me again despite the initial promise of pain.
"Vlad," I whimper, on the edge of the precipice. So close, yet so far.
He lowers his mouth to my neck, sucking at the sensitive skin, his movements on my clit quickening as his cock continues to assault me.
And suddenly, the combined action has me screaming my climax, the force of it so powerful I'm literally seeing white in front of my eyes.
My entire body becomes slack as I fall face down onto the mattress.
"That's my good girl," I hear Vlad's satisfied voice as he pats my ass affectionately.
I can barely move, but I can still feel the ferocity of his thrusts as he chases his own pleasure.
His cock swells inside me even more, and I feel the warmth of his seed as it shoots straight to my womb. He holds my ass tightly to him as he empties himself inside of me, ensuring not one drop of his cum is wasted anywhere else.
Collapsing on top of me, he gathers me to his chest, his cock still inside me, his arms tight around my shoulders.
"Did I hurt you?" he asks, nuzzling his nose in the crook of my neck.
"No. It was perfect," I tell him, holding him close and snuggling into his embrace. "I love you."
"Love you too, Sisi. More than anything," he says and my chest expands with an overwhelming amount of happiness.
He is mine. And I am his.
Finally.
His mouth trails wet kisses down my cheek, his stubble tickling me as I shift in bed. My eyes open, my pupils accommodating to the light as I take him in—freshly showered and insanely attractive.
"You didn't shave," I whisper, my palm cupping his slight growth.
"I know you like me when I embrace my less than civil side," he smirks at me and my own lips pull up in a smile.
He's right. I do like when he leaves his gentlemanly ways at the door. Especially since losing his manners has never been sweeter.
"What time is it?" I ask groggily as I try to rouse myself.
"Time for a surprise," he says rather vigorously, gathering me in his arms and lifting me off the bed.
"What?" I'm suddenly alert, frowning in confusion. "What surprise? Where are we going?"
Though I am wont to admit, I'm a little sore from our activities last night.
"You'll see," his mouth quirks up as he carries me out of the room and to the basement. "You probably noticed that the entire basement is custom made," he starts as he plugs in a password to yet another steel door. "And I made something for you too," he tells me, and I can tell he's entirely too excited about this.
Once the door is open, he takes me inside a rather sterile looking room, with only a chair and some tools in the middle.
"Are you going to torture me?" I ask, amused. The entire setting looks like a torture chamber, and knowing Vlad's affinity for torture, I wouldn't be surprised.
"There's only one type of torture I have reserved for you, hell girl," his voice is low and seductive as he blows hot air into my ear, "and it's the type you beg for," he continues, and without even turning to him I can feel his arrogant smirk.
I shake my head, unable to wipe the smile off my face.
"Stop this and tell me what we're doing here," I demand, a little too curious about his surprise.
He strides to the middle of the room in two steps, carefully placing me in the chair. Laying a quick kiss on my forehead, he drags a table with tools towards me, motioning with his hand at the various devices.
"I'm giving you a tattoo," he declares proudly, opening up the kit to reveal a tattoo gun and other tools.
"A tattoo," I frown, a little taken aback by it.
"Yes!" he exclaims, and his excitement seems to have doubled. "You asked me for one a while back," he continues, slowly unbuttoning my nightgown to reveal the scars on my chest.
After I'd found out that his many tattoos were to hide his scars, I'd been overly enthusiastic about getting one too. But Vlad hadn't been too receptive at the time, saying he didn't want anything on my skin.
I wonder what changed his mind...
"Why now?" I narrow my eyes at him.
I'm only too happy to get a tattoo, but I also want to know what prompted his change of heart, since he was pretty adamant about no tattoos in the beginning.
"Because you want it," he starts, choosing his words carefully, "and because I don't want you to have bad memories from that place—ever again."
I stare at him dumbfounded for a moment before a stupid grin slowly appears on my face.
Grabbing his cheeks in my hands, I bring him closer for a kiss.
"Thank you," I whisper against his lips.
His eyes sparkle with joy and he looks like he's won the lotto as he starts preparing the equipment.
I watch him amused, once again surprised to see how little it takes to make him happy. And as I look at his carefree smile, it dawns on me that his happiness has always been contingent on making me happy.
Whenever he's done something to please me, he's been pleased with himself too, and the realization warms me even more.
I can't help myself as I reach out, fitting my palm to his cheek. He looks startled, but immediately gifts me a gorgeous smile as he places a kiss in the center of my palm.
"You're so good to me, Vlad." I tell him, fighting back tears.
There's something infinitely special about him and the way he treats me, his love boundless.
"No. You're good to me, Sisi," he replies, holding my hand close to his face. "You make me happiest," he simply says.
My heartbeats accelerate and I feel a tingle in my lower belly.
Butterflies. He makes me feel butterflies in my stomach.
His entire presence makes me so giddy, my body is no longer my own when he is around.
"I love that you thought about this," I add as I see him test the tattoo gun, "but do you know how to tattoo?"
His gesture may be sweet, but I have to wonder about his artistic prowess. In all the time we'd spent together, he'd never once mentioned a passion for it, or even better, a talent.
He stills, raising his eyes to look at me. Pursing his lips, he's quiet for a second, and I almost groan out loud.
"I don't not know how to tattoo," he answers, a sheepish smile on his face.
"Vlad!" My eyes widen at him and I swat him playfully. "You're not just thinking of doodling on my skin, are you?"
"Would that be so bad?" he shrugs, and my mouth hangs open in shock. I don't know whether to be scandalized or impressed by him. Sure, it's the thought that counts, but am I actually considering letting him do this?
"You're joking, right?"
"Relax," he catches my hand, holding it tight in his own. "I've had enough experience over the years with my own tattoos. Who do you think filled them in or continued some of the designs?" he more or less rips the shirt off his torso, pointing to several designs.
"See, I did this," he declares proudly.
I squint to make out the shapes, and I nod appreciatively.
"I didn't realize you had a knack for drawing." I comment as I trace the intricate forms on his chest. "Wait," I still, my finger on top of the triangle on his chest. "You added t
his?" I ask and he nods.
"I like to tweak the designs every now and then. But this was the first time I altered the meaning of the original ensemble."
"I love it." I tell him sincerely.
"Now let's see what you want." His enthusiasm is infectious as we start going over potential designs and concepts.
"I want one on the cross here," I point to the ugly scar on top of my breast, "and one here," I move my hand up to my neck, to the scar he'd given me months ago.
He blinks, his eyes focused on that spot as he swallows deeply.
"I'm sorry," he apologizes again, eyes closed, a look of pure agony on his face. "I don't think I'll ever be able to make it up to you for that... or anything." He sighs, his features forlorn as he looks anywhere but at me.
"Vlad," I tip his head up, "we need to move on. We're here now, and stronger together because of that incident. Please stop torturing yourself with it. I told you," I take a deep breath, wanting him to see the sincerity in my eyes. "I forgive you."
"Thank you," he says earnestly, and I gift him a smile.
"Here," I point to my neck, "I want a V."
His eyes immediately widen. Stupefied, he looks at me as if I'd grown a second head.
"You mean..." he trails off, dumbstruck, and for as long as I live I don't think I will forget the look on his face. The incredulity on his face reminds me of the time he'd deemed himself unworthy of my tears.
"I want one dagger here," I take his finger, the tip touching my skin as I show him what I have in mind, "and another line starting from the tip of the blade, here." I move his finger around in the shape of a V.
He doesn't speak, still looking at me reverently, his gaze fixed on the small scar at the base of my neck.
"And I want a red drop of blood falling from the blade," I continue, letting his finger trail down to my collarbone. "Because our relationship was forged in blood, tested in blood, and made stronger by blood." I remind him.
Our paths had crossed because of blood, and our relationship had been destroyed because of blood. But in blood we'd found each other again, and we'd shared every little piece of ourselves — every sin, and every transgression.
"Sisi..." he starts, shaking his head at me as if he still can't quite believe it.
Morally Ambiguous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 4) Page 52
