20. Vanya
20
VANYA
I can barely believe my eyes.
This place is a fantasy. It cannot be real.
A grin pulls at my lips as I notice the baths, the bed in the next room is massive beyond compare.
Even as a voice inside me warns that this is a prison, that we are still captive.
I have seen some of the Bratva leaders’ homes through the years, at parties and such. Pyotr keeps a relatively nice mansion just outside of town. But this is like the Russian emperors of old.
Forget that, it is beyond.
After so long in tight quarters, I feel strange in the open. The ceiling sweeps so far overhead.
It’s enough to make me feel the opposite of claustrophobic.
Until I smell food.
Suddenly, the surroundings do not matter.
My need overwhelms any other concern. Ciro is right there with me, his eyes lighting up as a we spot the table at the far end of the room on the opposite side from the bedroom. This place has its very own dining room.
Of course it does.
And the spread is unbelievable.
More than either one of us could eat in several sittings. But it is carefully chosen. After so long without food, we must be careful.
Our host seems to be aware of this.
Fresh fruits, mild dishes. Many of them are western, others familiar from home. Still others steam aromas of local fare.
Ciro thrusts a plate into my hands, heaping a bit of everything on his.
“Shakal—”
“I don’t care if it’s poisoned!”
“That’s not…never mind.” I chuckle, selecting a few things for my plate while sampling others immediately. The berries are unbelievably sweet and ripe, mingling with sweet cinnamon and cloves in the porridge. No matter how wealthy I may ever become, some flavors will always satisfy my cravings the best. Call it my simple upbringing.
Once we are full, I am magnetically pulled toward the steaming bath someone filled for us in the jacuzzi-sized tub in the bathroom. It’s bordering on scalding. My toe curls back in sweet blistering delight.
“Ugh, I am bloody mess.”
“That’s a terrible British accent.”
“Shut up and rinse off with me before we get in the bath.”
“So bossy.”
The shower heads rain down on us in the glass stall, big enough for at least four people. Ciro glances around, raising his eyebrows.
“Do not get ideas.”
“I was just thinking we could lay down in this thing.”
“Maybe later…”
The water stings on cuts and lacerations, clearing the grime and sweat from our battered bodies. At least enough so that I do not feel disgusting when we sink into the steaming depths of the tub. It’s better than I imagined. Utterly amazing.
Ciro’s hands on my shoulders a moment later tops it by a hair.
“What are you doing?”
“You’ve never had a massage before?”
“ Net . I have no time for nails and spa days.”
“You should make time. And we have time now.”
“True. At least until they decide to come take us back to the dungeon or to the guillotine.”
“That’s what you went with? I was thinking firing squad. Classic hanging.”
“No. Not in such an opulent place. They would put on a show. At least a drawing and quartering. Perhaps even an iron maiden?” A moan interrupts my deathly musings. How can his fingers hurt so good?
“Hm, you’re a tied-up mess.”
“Mm, do not say things you will not follow through on…”
His lips brush against my neck, but I wiggle, shrugging my shoulders. “More.”
“Yes, madam. We may as well enjoy this while we can. Soon, they will drag out my intestines.”
“Fill my mouth with bees.”
“Mm-hmm. Burn us alive in a giant wicker statue.”
“You watch too many movies.”
“You know too many horrendous murder techniques for someone who hasn’t.”
“Less talking, more kneading.”
“You are all I need ,” he hums into my ear. I am just too damned euphoric to turn around and smack him upside the head.
The bath lasts until neither of us can stand the heat any longer. We scrub, soap, shampoo. Drying off, I feel like a completely new person with our fill of water, food, relaxation.
I understand why people crave this. It is as close to heaven on earth as one might find. But it makes people weak. Ciro’s perspective holds weight, however.
Indulging every now and again adds spice to life.
Just like the lips of the man who holds my heart.
I drop the towel, swaying my hips as I lean in. It has been exceedingly difficult to ignore his erection this entire time. But I managed.
Now, it’s all I can think about.
“I wonder,” he whispers, catching his breath after a long, passionate kiss, “If we could have ever been like this. Just…normal. In a beautiful place together.”
“We are not cut from that fabric. And this place is far from normal. It is another extreme, just like the rest of our lives. So for tonight, be whoever you want to be. As long as you are mine.”
The next kiss drags out, even as we meander through the expansive chamber, caressing one another. Ciro explores my curves with undivided attention, his gently gripping hands sending jolts of excitement through me.
His hands run down, cupping my full ass and he squeezes insistently. I return the favor, pulling him toward me and gliding him between the gap in my thighs. I pin him there, tightening my muscles to make him squirm.
Heat floods through me as friction and proximity send my head spinning with arousal.
Straddling him on one of the massive ottomans, I press my clit against the base of his cock, pleasing myself and teasing him with every stroke. Soon, the slick of my sex slips along the bottom of his shaft, pinned to his stomach.
All he can do is watch me, watch my folds spread around him up and down his length. I push his head back, kissing his neck, nibbling at his ears.
“You kept me sane,” I moan. “Through the worst of the pain.”
“You kept me alive,” he responds. “Even if you have almost gotten me killed a dozen times. I’ll always live for you. You’re the only thing worth living for.”
My heart shatters.
It’s the sweetest agony.
Shakal is a part of who I am now. He is a part of my soul. And I can never go back from this.
If there were any walls left within me, the brutal torture and his healing hands blasted them from me. No more doubts. No more fear.
There is nothing between us.
I almost smile before I take him inside me, sliding slowly, deeper and deeper. Settling him within me, I sigh.
I am complete.
Ciro’s arms wrap around me as he grinds once, rotating his hips deliciously. He is more than a perfect fit. Just slightly more. His width is so snug, hugged within my walls so that all I can feel is him.
And as I adjust to him, becoming more and more lost in his eyes, he inches in deeper, seating me right against his lap. It is almost too much, these sensations.
The exquisite relaxing of my core around him. Every spiral of my hips soaks him, draws him right onto the spot I need him most.
Each rock of our rhythm takes me further into the dream, deeper into his love. I am fucking gone. And I could go on like this forever.
There is no one else, nothing else around us as I begin to buck along his shaft, using my hands against his rock-hard abs and the cushion beneath us to push back, pumping forward again.
All I can feel is the entirety of his column within me, his hands on my breasts, his finger playing along the apex of my sex firing off volcanic quakes of bliss in my center, spraying sparks and showers of magma through my limbs, my hands, my feet.
Rippling waves of heat and desire consume me as he grips tighter, my sawing shortening to tight, fast flicks of my hips. It feels like I am racing toward my first release. My muscles tense, my middle shudders.
But it is not quite fast enough, not powerful enough to drive me over the edge.
“I need you…”
“Tell me…”
There are no words. I grab at him, pulling him with me as I rise.
We continue to kiss, bite, lick, all the way to the bedroom. A lustful laugh escapes his lips as I leap to the bed, he follows, landing with his arms braced around me, then pinning me to the bed. Our fingers interlock, he holds me down.
And plunges into me again.
It’s the most pleasure I’ve ever felt in my life, the most intense, growing, immense pressure. Every thrust is devastating, all the way to the hilt, filling my core entirely. Each pounding stroke makes me gasp, makes me moan.
This is the line between pain and pleasure I have always known I wanted. That I have never been able to find.
Fully letting myself go, challenging my body and pushing both of us to the limit.
Soon I will come undone. Soon I will cascade over that cliff like a sparkling waterfall. I want to reach that peak for that sweet unwinding. But more so, so that he can make me come again and again and again.
“Like this…just like this,” I cry, twining my fists in the sheets.
I begin to quake. Tipping over the brink. The falling, falling.
Rushing, barreling toward the ground with an all-new ferocity as Ciro smiles his pleasure above me, worshiping me with his eyes. I know he will not go with me, not yet.
But having him admire me as I do sends another wave collapsing over the first, making my stomach tighten as my legs spasm around his waist.
He lets me come completely shuddering to a stop before lowering himself to kiss my neck, suck my nipples. Slowly building up again, starting with a new sensation.
His teeth nip at me, making me gasp and squirm.
“I need more of you, my love,” I sing.
“You can have everything, Vanya…” The way he purrs my name makes my skin pebble, shivers running up and down my legs. Curling my fucking toes.
“Fuck me. Fuck me as hard as you want. However you want. Do whatever you desire.”
I’ve never given myself to anyone like this.
I’ve always been in control, the one taking what I needed from my lovers. Never letting another person into my heart, keeping everything at arm’s length. This kind of abandon, this level of complete lack of control should be terrifying.
Instead, it’s scintillating. It’s mind-blowing.
All the more when he begins to explore the room, lifting me like I weigh nothing and laying me across the table, then the dresser. He bends me over the vanity, letting me watch him pound into me in the mirror.
The chair is next, but as I slam down on him over and over he leans back. The legs snap.
“Our host can afford it.”
Ciro scoops me up, sliding into me again, kissing me as I cling to him. Several steps take us out onto the balcony in the dim of dusk.
Setting me on the wide, smooth railing, he grips the outer lip of the barrier, using it to accentuate every hammering drive of his magnificent cock into my depths. And all I can do is throw my head back, bracing myself on my hands behind me.
Another climax roars toward me.
I clench, hoping to ward it off, make this last.
But I am no match for his barrage of bliss. Blood rushes in my ears, deafening me to my own screams, echoing out over the gardens for all to hear.
Cool evening air refreshes my glistening skin as he continues, his teeth at my collarbone, every muscle rippling. He is a wonder to behold.
In the wake of my latest finale, Ciro lets me down, just for a moment to catch my breath. Sweeping me off my feet, he carries me back inside, our lips never parting for long.
“Tell me what you want…” I hum between kisses.
“This. Forever.”
“How do you want me?”
“You tell me.”
“I want you to fill me with your love. I want you to come with me,” I demand as we return to the main room.
He aims straight for the center carpet in front of the hearth.
Right in the middle of the floor.
Laying me down, he stretches out beside me, caressing my skin. I almost purr as I raise my hands over my head, luxuriating in him. Basking in him.
Ciro shifts to his knees, sitting back on his heels as he continues to massage my thighs, dragging me closer to him. I feel his stiffness brush against my skin, still drenched in me.
When he plays at my entrance, I expect him to rush in, to resume his mind-altering orgasmic assault. But he waits, seating the throbbing head of his dick just inside my lips.
Then the bastard has the gall to slip it in, out. Just the head.
Over and again.
Soon, my thighs are trembling again. This is worse than the electroshock!
The edging does the unthinkable. It stacks up layer after layer of pleasure within me, building my arousal until I am writhing on the lushious carpet, my skin tingling from head to toe.
I will not last this way either, but it will take much, much longer.
Excruciatingly long.
“Fucking hell…”
“I love it when you growl at me,” Ciro rumbles, his own words gravel in his throat.
My mind is mush. Devastated by an overdose of ecstasy. All I can moan as I start to quiver is, “You can’t…I can’t…”
I beg him. I need him.
Every cell in my body wants another climax before he finishes. Because I am selfish. And he has spoiled me. And I cannot bear to wait any longer.
After this, there’s no going back. We are one, and I never want anything again. I never want food or drink or air if it’s not his, if it’s not him.
The old me would wonder who I am becoming.
Shakal has set me free from such thoughts.
He rolls to the floor, setting me on top again, guiding himself into my tender, drenched middle.
“Now, make yourself come again,” he orders me, and I smile sumptuously, bouncing down, slamming down onto his cock. His eyes flare, his shocked grin telling me exactly what he wants.
I will obey. But he will come with me.
He does not stand a chance.
Bumping up and down, I glide along every inch of him, all the way out, all the way in, giving it everything I have. He is as deep as he can possibly be, enveloped within me, his skin glistening with my thick, velvety lust.
My clit skims against his abdomen, adding to my ascent toward the highest summit. Leaning into it, I drop down over him, biting his ear and pumping along his length with tight, slick flexes of my ass. Soon, he is gasping.
Even more when I breathe into his ear, moaning my desire.
“I need you to come, my love. Deep inside me…”
“Fuuu—”
His hands clap down on my cheeks, gripping with pure longing. Desperation. His ass leaves the floor, lifting us both up. Tilting me forward, he drags himself out, spearing into me once. Then again. Faster. Faster.
Soon, the clapping of my ass against his thighs is a drumbeat, only drowned out by our nearly incessant cries. The keening storm in my head reaches a fever pitch, rapture only moments away.
I clutch the carpet, his arms, anything I can to hang on as he hits his stride, hammering into my cluster of nerves every single time with brain melting swiftness and pressure.
It’s fucking insane the way he makes me feel, physically, mentally. Emotionally.
My walls lock around him, gushing forth more of my need for him, dripping down my legs. We are both slick with our disastrous endeavor.
Every time he drives himself home, a rocket fires off in my head, tingling, surging through me like electricity.
My body is giving out.
My muscles exhausted. My ass vibrates with exertion.
This is it.
“Yes…Yes,” I bear down, bracing myself as I feel him begin to pulsate.
“Vanya!” He calls for me, warning me, singing to me.
And I am there with him, unleashing the last of my love, shattering. I explode into a million pieces, every nerve of my body glowing in the glory of my release.
To say that he filled me before was nothing compared to the searing magma that flows from him, spilling out around his final plunge, soaking us in our heavenly eruption. Deep inside, I feel myself flex, squeezing every drop from him.
We stay there like that for minutes, an hour.
I lose track of time.
Our bodies are slack, clinging to one another. All the while he remains within me, still rigid.
I savor it even as I doze, not wanting to miss that sensation of him for a second. To make it last as long as possible.
Unless he tries to start again…
I might die.
But my lover is breathing deeply, completely at peace and holding me close to his chest as it rises and falls. I watch him, tracing my finger down his face, and he smiles. Not the usual, wide grin. Just a gentle, warm smile as he rests.
And I am no more. I am only his.
Ciro Diamante. Shakal.
Mine.
There is no one like him. Together, we will burn this entire palace to the ground. We will escape. Make it home. Start a life together.
For the first time in my life, I do not have hope for a future. Not just aspirations. Ambitions.
I make a resolution. And I’ll be damned if we do not make it home. Together.
We have both been broken down, torn apart.
And he has put me back together, piece by piece. Healed my wounds. Patched the cracks in my soul. Now I will do the same for him.
I am home in his arms. In his heart.
And no one can stand against us.