22. Mine
(Kiah)
I once asked Nico where the darkness in his mind came from. He said it had always been there, that he’d spent his life trying to hide it, pretending to be normal.
I don’t want him to pretend with me. I want to own all parts of him, even the dark parts, the ugly parts, the broken ones.
If I’ve learned anything about Nico, it’s that sometimes he just needs a bit of punishment to feel okay. To rebalance. To soothe the chaos.
Who could blame him? Not when you hear the fucked-up tales of his past. Whenever I think this is it, it can’t get any worse, he shares another twisted memory.
I wish his mother were alive just so I can kill her again.
That bitch.
It’s her fault he has those nightmares; her fault the forest haunts him.
But nobody gets to fuck with his mind but me—never again. I have it in writing, in our contract, in black and white.
The contract also includes a long list of things my darling brat is curious about. Some were more of a surprise to me than others.
When Nico first approached me with the idea of a consensual non-consent scene, I was hesitant.
CNC is not something I’ve ever considered, and what little I’ve seen of it online looked abusive as fuck.
But the more we spoke about it and researched safe practices, the more I realized it could be cathartic for both of us.
Not only that, but I also found myself aroused by the idea, lying awake at night wondering what it would feel like to hunt Nico, to claim him in a way he would never allow anyone else to do.
But I didn’t agree to the scene so I could overpower or hurt him. I did it because his mind craves it; because I want him to have peace from those restless nightmares that haunt his dreams.
It takes a lot of trust to do something like this with a partner, and the fact that Nico trusted me with it spoke volumes.
Letting himself be this vulnerable couldn’t have been easy for a man who grew up in a world where toxic masculinity was celebrated.
But he did it; he let me chase him through the forest like a piece of game—just like we rehearsed.
I was worried about the weather, that it would be too cold, that we should wait until another time, but we got lucky with the exceptionally warm temperatures.
Well, relatively warm. It was still only 50 degrees out—killing Nico’s dream of having me chase him naked through the forest. Perhaps in summer, we can try a rematch…
Jesus fucking Christ. What a rush.
I didn’t think it would feel like that.
It felt good to take my power back, to be the hunter instead of the hunted.
As soon as that mask went on, I became a different person, a faceless hunter with a simple mission—to take what’s mine.
It was exhilarating!
I haven’t been that in touch with my primal instincts in a long time.
Even now, as I hold Nico’s bruised body against mine on the forest floor, my heart is still pumping pure adrenaline.
“You okay, baby?” I ask, kissing the tears from Nico’s dirty cheek.
“Yeah…” he manages his first word after nearly ten minutes of silence. I am prepared to sit here for hours if he needs it, even if we both freeze.
“Do you want space?”
He shakes his head; no.
I stroke his knotted hair. “Do you think you can walk?”
“I think so.” Nico’s voice is small, uncertain, and I help him up, leading us back from the forest’s shadows.
The walk to the house is silent and introspective but not uncomfortable. I’m super relieved that everyone has been sent home, that we have the place to ourselves. It would be hard to explain the state of us right now.
The harsh interior lights momentarily blind us as we enter. While my eyes adjust, Nico keeps his closed, clinging to my arm as I guide him upstairs to the bathroom.
I sit him on the toilet seat, assessing his injuries while the bath fills. He looks battle-worn, but it's mostly dirt and shallow cuts—nothing serious.
Holding his hand, I help Nico into the steaming water. He winces but doesn’t say anything.
I start with his neck, washing him methodically with a blue cloth, my hands tracing his skin from top to bottom.
It’s good for me to care for him; it helps with the angsty feelings clawing at my insides.
I didn’t expect the scene to affect me this emotionally.
But now, with the adrenaline emptied from my veins, anxiety is seeping in, tugging at my chest.
It’s only hitting me now. I’d been so focused on Nico that I didn’t make space for my own emotional comedown.
The scene was way rougher, more emotionally taxing than I thought it would be.
I’ve hunted down many assholes in a forest, but never an asshole I actually cared about.
As fun as the chase was, staying in character was so hard when Nico cried and pleaded for me to stop. Even though I knew he had his safe word, it hurt me to see him like that.
Now, in the aftermath of it all, I am desperate to reconnect. I need to know that we’re okay, that we’re still us.
Nico remains perfectly still in the bath, lost in his own world, as I wash his body and hair, much like when he first arrived on the island, lost in delirium.
But it’s different now.
He ’s different.
We both are.
I thought I was done with the dangerous life, but the dangerous life clearly wasn't done with me.
As soon as I had a taste of that old me, the excitement, the adrenaline, the addiction took over like an inkblot spreading in water, consuming me until I was all black.
I can't go back to being the docile innkeeper. I don’t want to—I am finally awake again.
The Don murmurs softly as I reach the cloth down to wash his cock, trailing it over his balls too.
Instantly, his dick perks up, awakening from its slumber.
This man! Every time I touch him, he gets so hard.
I love it.
His mouth tells no lies, and neither does his body.
There is no confusion or mixed signals about his desperate desire for me.
“Do you want to come, baby?” I whisper, gently squeezing his cock, and Nico’s eyes snap open.
He bites his lip and nods. “P-please.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Dumb question. The answer is always yes, isn’t it?”
Nico smiles, slowly coming back to me. “Can’t help it. It’s your fault.”
“Yeah, yeah, such a smooth talker, hey, Don Ricci.”
As I speak, I continue stroking his cock with the washcloth, stroking until his murmurs turn to little moans.
“I’m close,” Nico gasps soon enough, his body tensing beneath me.
“Do it,” I whisper as I milk him to completion, until his cum floats in the dirty bath around him.
He probably needs a shower too, but that’s a later problem.
For now, I let my darling boy enjoy the moment before helping him out of the bath, drying him off, and applying ointment to his cuts.
Still butt naked, Nico collapses on the bed as I shimmy out of my hunter gear, dropping it onto the floor as unceremoniously as the young Don usually does with his clothes. I’m filthy from the dirt and the lube, but I spare no thought to the clean sheets as I climb into bed beside him.
Nico wanted to do the scene without lube, but I told him “no fucking way .” I didn’t want to really hurt him.
The bed feels so good after the roughness of the forest.
Nico opens his arms, and I snuggle up with my head on his chest, letting him hold me as tightly as a cuddly toy.
“This was the best Christmas ever,” he says, fingers absentmindedly playing over my nipples, hardening them to little pebbles.
“It’s not over yet.” I grin, reaching up for a slow, lingering kiss.
When we part, Nico presses his forehead to mine. “Thank you, Kiah,” he whispers, his voice low, sincere, “Just thank you.”
“For what?”
“For everything. For letting me explore my fantasies and my fears, for letting me cry and break, for picking me up again and putting me back together.”
“Careful now, Don Ricci, someone is turning into a poet.”
Nico kisses my nose. “I’m serious, Kiah. You stabbing me with that fucking shard of porcelain was the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
I smile. “Tad dramatic, but I’ll take it.”
He tilts my chin toward him, trapping my gaze in his. The haunted look has been replaced by something new—something I haven’t seen before.
Nico grins. “I love you, Kiah McClane…Even if your surname is dumb.”
My heartbeat escalates into a new rhythm as the words repeat in my head, in my heart.
Nobody has ever said those words to me and meant it.
I don’t know why I am crying, but I am.
Laughing through the tears, I take his hand in mine, holding tightly, “I love you too, Nico.”
My heart races as the loaded words hang in the air between us.
It’s Nico who breaches the space between us, meeting my lips in a tender kiss filled with passion, filled with promise.
My fingers thread through his damp hair, pulling him closer as I breathe in his familiar scent, committing this moment to memory.
A soft sigh escapes me as we finally part, and I find myself smiling, unable to contain the warmth spreading inside me.
"I love you," I whisper again, savoring the freedom to say those words.
Nico responds by capturing my lips again, this kiss deeper and more urgent.
When I finally open my eyes again, I find Nico looking at me with such intensity, such adoration, that it nearly overwhelms me.
I’ll never get tired of seeing that look.
He doesn't just want me. He needs me.
Oh god, I love being desired.
There is no greater feeling than having a powerful man worship every inch of your body, your existence.
I thought those years had passed.
But not in Nico's eyes.
In his gorgeous blue eyes, I am a Goddess.
And I never want to be anything less again.
For the first time in my entire life, I know what it means to be someone’s world. I never had family, long-term partners, friends...
But now I have all those things and more. All wrapped in the body of a tattooed brat with a glorious, pierced cock. A tattooed brat who happens to be Don of the Ricci family. THE Ricci family.
Yeah, I know. They're cunts.
But not Nico.
Nico is different.
Nico is mine .
And together, we're unstoppable.
Basking in the moment, I just hold Nico as we lie there, each drifting in our own thoughts.
“What’s your beef with my surname?” I ask eventually.
“I think Kiah Ricci sounds better,” Nico answers nonchalantly, a hint of mischief on his lips.
I burst out laughing, hitting him with a pillow. “Slow down, cowboy…I’m not taking anyone’s surname.”
Nico winks at me. “I know, I know. I’m just teasing.”
“Isn’t teasing supposed to be my job?” I cock my head to the side, getting lost in that stormy gaze I want to spend the rest of my life exploring.
“Yes, Ma’am,” Nico says with a big grin.
“Don’t you start with that,” I threaten with mock sternness, “You know how that gets me worked up.”
“Hmm. Yes… Ma’am .”
Quick as lighting, I jump on top of him, pinning him between my thighs. “You little brat!”
“You mean, your brat?” My dark and broody boy tries to pull his best innocent-looking face, failing so miserably that we both burst out laughing.
Straddling him, I shake my head as his unmistakable erection presses against my skin.
I tug sharply at his collar, pulling his face toward me as I cut off his breath, “ My brat. All mine. And don’t you ever forget it, Don Ricci.”
Threading my fingers through his chest hair, I lean down to kiss the small clover-shaped birthmark on his collarbone, “Merry Christmas, baby.”
####
If morally gray mafia bosses kneeling before dominant queens is your vibe, then check out the Queens & Knights series.