Page 39

THIRTY-EIGHT

Inessa

E xploring Vlad’s body is like discovering a new world. There are so many things hidden between the craters of his muscles and he’s physical perfection. The man could put a bag over his face, and it wouldn’t mute his beauty. Brutally handsome and equally merciless, his character and physical traits don’t hold any softness. Flattening my palms on his chest, I map every contour as my eyes follow the movement, when they go around his ribs I deflate, wanting to continue my perving.

Rather than be a normal person and ask, I speak in a language he understands and hold one finger between our faces and turn it in a circle like he did to me. The beautiful bastard smirks but does it. The massacre he finished is staining his skin despite the layers that were covering him. There’s not as much blood on the center of his back and I can still make out the designs. He’s been carved out of marble, the angel wings come out as he lifts his arms and I’m drooling.

My finger pauses on a poorly covered partial deck of cards etched into his skin as I trace down his spine. It’s a forced tattoo, one that someone started and couldn’t finish. But it’s the meaning that has my attention and it all makes sense. Fucking ignorant bastards, they hurt him because he’s different than their narrow-minded bigoted fucking brains could understand. Wrapping my arms around him from behind, I hug the little boy who had to grow up around homophobic fucking pricks and bite my tongue to stop from asking about his sexuality.I’ve heard his brothers joke about him being married to Dima and I won’t force him to live a life he doesn’t need to when he has his love literally outside of the doors.

My voice is low, and I tighten my arms around him as copper fills my nose.

“Were you really married to Dima? Or do you want to be?”

I’ll stay married to him if he needs me to, but it all clicks into place, he doesn’t sleep beside me or like spending time with me. Even Dima’s grumbling makes sense, he has to watch the man he loves live a fake life. But he laughs, it shakes his entire body, and he acts like an ass.

“Like fuck I’d marry that cunt. He has a face like a slapped dog’s ass.”

Well, the insult was unnecessary. He’s never shied away from fucking me or shown any disgust, so I let the topic go. He’ll tell me when he’s ready.

He strokes across my arms and my laugh is muffled into his back at the dry tone.

“My dick’s facing the wrong way, meelaya.”

Deciding to have some fun, I lock my feet behind his knees and slowly smooth my hand down his abs. My mind makes up the image and I press my lips into his back as my tongue pokes out, making random shapes on the only clean patch of skin. I’m wrapped around him like a backpack, and he doesn’t stop me, despite the tension in his muscles. He’s a monster and literally covered in blood, but there’s always a gentleness when it comes to sex. He’ll fuck me hard and fast while his eyes soften and search for proof I’m not in pain.

I reverse our roles when I’m the one that’s always left a mess with little touches and undo his belt. I slip my hand inside his boxers and lightly squeeze his dick at the base. It twitches in my hand and the deep rumble is against my lips through his back. He’s even bigger than I remember as I pull his dick free. He’s a controlling bastard and digs his fingers into my thighs, trying to get me to loosen my hold on his legs. He could rip me away but then I currently hold his brain in my hand. Tracing his length with my fingertips makes him groan in frustration as I get corrupted with power. It’s intoxicating, mixed with the smell of cardamom, sandalwood, and copper.

I’m high on Vlad.

Liquid touches my fingers as I reach the crown and I swap hands so I can taste him. It’s curiosity mixed with my senses begging for more of him. My legs loosen without meaning to and he turns abruptly at the same time my finger touches my lips. He bands his arm around my back and lifts me an inch to pull my pants off in one movement. They go over his shoulder without any care when they’re my favorite and I own ten pairs of them because they’re so comfortable. My argument is a moan not having any impact with the feeling of his bare dick touching me where I need him.

“Stop throwing my things.”

My eyes roll back in my head as he scrapes his teeth against the point my neck and shoulder meet. There’s something about his bite that always makes my toes curl and I turn into a lust-fueled crazed person forgetting everything. The deep husky voice is my undoing as he kisses a path up my neck.

“Want me to throw mine?”

Nodding because I don’t care as long as he fucks me, his laugh is dark and has no sound as air brushes my sensitive skin.

Gripping my favorite comfy t-shirt in two hands, he rips down the middle, jolting my body. There’s no time for me to catch myself as he lifts my naked body with his hands under my arms and fucking propels me across the room. Landing on the bed with a bounce, the springs catch me and realization slams into me.

Want me to throw mine?

He threw me.

Sitting up on my elbows, trying to get my brain to focus on lust, my legs close, not wanting him to see the blood. It’s stupid as fuck when the devil stalks forward covered in the substance, but my mind has been programmed that the natural blood between my thighs should be hidden and the violent liquid on Vlad is a point of pride. He reaches me in three steps and grips my knees before roughly parting my thighs. He stares between them as my skin heats. The rough voice comes out, but it’s the words that make me freeze.

“I could watch you take a shit and still get hard.”

Animals are more fucking gracious than this prick. Kicking his hip doesn’t hurt him, and I try to cover myself with my arms.

“Who the fuck thinks of that? Never mind fucking says it.”

My anger doesn’t even make sense, but he does this all the time, says the most fucking absurd things like he doesn’t have quality control on his tongue. He grabs my wrists, pinning them above my head as he fully steps between my thighs, turning smug over my reaction.

“It was a compliment.”

I argue back, not accepting it and wanting his anger.

“The biker was better, he told me I looked sweet. He even had to taste it just to believe I was real.”

How I don’t throw up at the memory is solely with my angry monster staring down at me.

He holds my wrists in one hand and grips my throat as he presses his hips into me so I’m immobile. The tic in his jaw makes it move in waves as he spits out one word.

“Where?”

I’m not suicidal so stop the lie from leaving and tilt my chin up, extending my neck.

“Up to my ear. The freak started chewing on my ear like a dog.”

He strokes the skin with his thumb and takes in a harsh breath. It’s as though he’s reclaiming the spot for himself, and he grinds into me. Fire burns in his icy eyes and he uses less care than usual to tilt my head to the side. His lips mark a path up my neck, and they softly move across my lobe. He does the same with his tongue on the way down and his fingers flex around my wrists.

His deep voice rumbles through the room with the claim on his tongue.

“You are mine, no one fucking touches you.”

I open my mouth to say they already did, but he pulls his hips back, taking away my pleasure as a preemptive punishment. My jaw snaps closed, and I smile innocently as Vlad shakes his head and lets out an exasperated breath. Kissing my cheek, his lips linger and don’t leave my skin as he moves to my lips. I lock my ankles against his ass, and he doesn’t even rock when I use all my strength to pull him forward.

He loses some of his anger and lits the errant strands away from my forehead as he says, “Ask nicely and I’ll fuck you.”

Fuck that, I’m not asking the devil for a fucking thing. Everyone knows you don’t make deals with evil creatures because they will always find a way to win.I curl my lips between my teeth and bite down, not letting anything out. My back arches as he traces my jaw with his nose and his voice drops, vibrating through my skin.

“Hmmm, you don’t want to be fucked?”

Pressing his lips to my neck, he swirls his tongue against my skin, demonstrating his musing.

“Do you want my tongue in your tight cunt?”

Biting harder, copper dots against my tongue from the force and I can’t wriggle my hands free to give myself relief. Sparks ignite against my cheek from his rough stubble brushing against it and my eyes roll from his tone alone.

“You’re making a mess, meelaya. Open your mouth and I’ll clean it up for you.”

The pathetic whimper is dulled with my lips clamped shut but the smirk touching my skin tells me it was heard.

I know what makes Vlad move, and it never fails. I do what he said but let a fake scenario leave instead of a beg.

“I’ll find someone else to clean it up.”

He pushes me into the mattress with his hold on my neck, and he doesn’t remove the rest of his clothes as he pushes forward. A scream is ripped from my throat with the force he enters me. It’s not filled with pain, but pleasure, and the bed creaks as Vlad pistons into me.

“I’ll fill you with my cum, let every fucking suka see that you’re mine.”

Nodding like I’m his cheerleader, I twist my hands, gripping the sheets to keep hold of reality.

His eyes are wild and my skin heats at the scene he creates.

“Another man tries to fucking taste you, I’ll be on his tongue you’ll be so filled with me.”

I’m fucked up, he’s corrupted me, and my brain likes the image way too much. The anger on his lips is fed straight into my mouth and fabric tears as I hug his ribs with my knees.

The smug bastard bites my lip, pulling it away from my teeth and taunting me.

“How’s my success rate, malysh?”

Pulling out to just the tip, he slams into me. Hard. Hard enough for my body to move up and tears to spring to my eyes. It’s frustration, my body wants more and less, while my brain melts. Burying his full length into me, he lets my throat go and flips us over. The movement has me bouncing, aftershocks causing me to shake and clench from the new angle.

He bites my shoulder and twists my arms behind my back as I find my voice.

“F-fifty per-percent.”

The stuttered moan betrays my lie, we both know I’m bullshitting. Wanting to wreck the devil, I push all my weight back trying to sit up and he doesn’t let go of my hands so it’s harder. My chest is pushed forward like an offering, and he flattens his palm on my sternum, he can feel how my heart is hammering. Shaking my hair out of my face, refusing to let anything but power be seen, I lift my hips and slam back down inelegantly.

I have to use my knees to guide my movements because the controlling bastard refuses to give me my arms. I build my own rhythm and he becomes my cheerleader.

“Watching you ride my dick is the best thing I’ve ever fucking seen.” He slaps the side of my tits, a moan gets trapped in my throat, and his commentary continues, “My little jockey.”

He needs to take his own advice and shut the fuck up.

Lifting up as high as I can with him restraining me, I pause and lock onto the icy eyes that fill me with warmth. I slowly drop down, making sure I clench and massage his dick until I’m fully seated, loving the awe watching me. I love this part the most, the way I can taunt him, and he never pushes me away.

“You’re a whore not a horse.”

My insult doesn’t work and the cocky shit smirks, pushing his hips up and declaring, “I’m a thoroughbred, meelaya.”

I’ve spent too much time with Vlad and picked up his habit of letting outrageous things leave my mouth.

“More like inbred, lapackha.”

We both freeze and our laughs are mirrored, it loosens his hold on my wrists. He’s so fucking beautiful, especially when he laughs. It’s unfair to look the way he does and carry all that ugliness of his character defects in the same package. Dropping forward, I seal our lips together, wanting to taste his rare lightness. He massages down my back, the heels of his palms digging into my muscles until he cups my ass and squeezes.

His thrusts are slow, and we meet each other as I thread my fingers through his hair. The usually silky strands are sticking together but I love it. It gets better when he crosses his arms around me and squeezes. He does it on purpose, making sure that his biceps rub against my ribs, and I moan into him. My fingers tighten in his hair as I pull his head up and go to his neck. There’s a clean patch of skin below his jaw and I claim that as mine as I bite into it.

My body jolts forward as he slams his hand off my ass and roughly says, “No marks, meelaya.”

I sit up pouting and say half seriously, “But how will anyone know you’re mine?”

I get distracted when he pushes his hands under his head, his muscles pulled taut as they form triangles beside his beautiful face, and I clench. He takes in a controlled breath, his abs constricting, and I do it again, feeling the muscles move under my fingertips. My confession is breathed out accidentally as I roll my hips.

“You’re so beautiful it hurts.”

As soon as the words have left me, I want to claw them back with the temperature dropping in the room.

The playfulness disappears and Vlad springs up with hellfire in his eyes. He grabs my hair in his fist and keeps me at an arm’s length. It’s like the night he choked me, there’s something else that has taken over his body. He stares at my face without any recognition as he looks at me with utter disgust and his other hand wraps around my neck. He flips us over and drags me off his dick to reposition me, so my ass is in the air and my face is buried in the sheets. There’s no stupid taunt or angry order as he slams into me, and my scream is muffled into the mattress.

It’s not for pleasure, he wants to hurt me. Or whoever he’s seeing in his mind’s eye. My head is pushed deeper into the plush material. The sting on my ass is nothing when my insides recoil at the disgust in his voice.

“You are a dirty fucking whore.”

Slapping against the other side, I choke at the command.

“Tell me what you are,” he demands.

I can’t speak with the material in my face, but I still try to shake my head.

“You’re nothing,” he cruelly says.

It doesn’t work and I can feel my air cutting off.

“Used and fucking worthless.”

Stretching my right hand behind me, I hold his wrist with the other, and I can feel hard muscle against my fingertips.Spit touches my cheek and I flinch as my tears fall.

He continues fucking me and his knuckles are digging into my scalp as he pushes me further into the bed.

“Say it!”

The scream has me flinching even more violently and I openly sob, trying to get him to see me.

“Vlad?”

He doesn’t hear and more spit lands on me, it sticks to my hair, and I can’t breathe with the sheets covering my mouth.

“Vlad!”

Liking Vlad’s anger isn’t the same as this. He’s not doing it knowing it’s me and that’s what fucking hurts. He’s using my body imagining someone else and I scrape my nails against his thighs, so he sees me . He doesn’t react and I do it harder reaching for any part of him I can as he alternates between spitting on me and cursing me in Russian with each punishing thrust.

“Gryaznaya.”

The springs creek and spit lands on my shoulder.

“Chertova.”

My tears are soaking into the sheets as he pushes me deeper into them.

“Shlyukha.”

My sob forces the words out in a scream.

“VLAD! Stop!”

He freezes again, the tension leaving his muscles before being replaced by something weighing them down. I wince as he gently pulls out of me and softens his hold on my hair. I try to stop my tears, but they slip into my mouth and soak into the sheets under me. The soreness settles in and the violence behind me is deathly still. He’s back in his body and he hesitates as his hand ghosts over my spit-laden face.