Chapter 22
Sevastyan
I’ve missed this.
Missed him , but since that first time we came together after the attack, the flame inside me reignited. I can’t believe I managed to convince myself we would be both better off if he left. He’s never going away.
He’s mine.
Mine.
I croak his name when pleasure pulses through my body, washing over me in hot waves as cum fills Victor’s snug hole.
I squeeze the cheeks of his ass, pulling them apart to see it stretch around me as a droplet of spunk trails down his taint.
Even if my hands still ache at times, I’m not giving up on touching him.
The way he whimpers and moans for me is the cherry on top.
Victor’s gorgeous ginger waves are spilled all over the kitchen counter I’ve bent him over. He’s arching his spine until it seems his many freckles move over his skin. Such a treasure to behold, legs spread for me, cock dripping on the cabinet .
I have never kept the same lover for as long as I’ve been with him, but I can’t imagine ever getting bored of his excitement or the warm attention he always has for me.
I reach around him and give his dick a few decisive tugs. That’s enough to coax out a grunt of ecstasy, stiff cock throbbing in my hand as he comes, all trembles and a pulsing hole.
I love that feeling around my dick even though I’m done. Never gets old.
He told me through his drawings just how attractive he finds me still, but with his body reacting like this, I need no further proof. I might be ruined in many ways, but he sees me for my soul.
Is it strange that I have such sappy thoughts when I’m balls-deep inside him?
Might be because I love him. His body, but also his heart and mind. He’s a little deranged, obsessive, but then again so am I. It doesn’t undermine any of the times when he’s sweet and loving.
“Fuuuck, that feels so good,” Victor whines, rubbing his cheek against the counter and struggling to catch a breath.
My hands are so much better now, and I take pleasure in squeezing his chin as I kiss his shoulders, waiting out the brief moments of fatigue that threaten to cut my legs from under me.
“What do we say?” I tease, licking his hair off his sweaty nape like a cat grooming its mate.
“Thank you, Seva,” he mumbles.
I’m still not over the burns, the scars they’ve left behind, but I feel attractive each time I see myself in the mirror of Victor’s eyes.
All those years alone here, I fantasized about the life I would lead once I disposed of my enemies.
How I would emerge from the deadly cocoon of this house to lead a glamorous life of luxury with a new man at my side each week and turning heads in the streets. Now, I only need Victor’s affection.
I sense it in his every gentle touch, in how he puts ointment on my burns, brushes my hair, and makes food for me.
Even his words of encouragement have been so welcome when I was throwing fits about my work, about struggling with the brushes, or the worry that the way I see color has changed.
I might have felt frustrated in the moment, but I appreciate his patience now.
He doesn’t just give me platitudes either. He listens and speaks thoughtfully about the changes I’m facing.
And I love him for it.
I really, truly love him in a way I’ve never loved another man
“Don’t move,” I tell him, then slowly pull out, watching his pucker close, as if desperate to keep in the whole load. I can’t help myself and stroke his buttocks once more before reaching for a roll of kitchen towels.
We’re both panting as I clean us, but then he rolls against the counter, and I kiss him, enclosing his small, warm form in my arms. Even now, he’s so gentle when placing his hands over my injured shoulders.
Victor smiles as we kiss, wild hair tickling my cheeks. I have truly never seen a prettier picture. I don’t think I could deny him anything right now.
“Satisfied?” he whispers, squinting slightly.
“You have never left me unsatisfied,” I whisper, tasting his lips once more. Everything feels so easy when he’s around. As though I can have a full life even if we confine ourselves to this house and never see other people again.
He hasn’t asked to leave, nor has he taken advantage of my state to do so. It’s a reminder that I have denied him what he asked for. All because I spent years designing a house for perfect safety. In the end, even that was a mirage when the worst combination of circumstances occurred.
I wouldn’t have burned if I’d turned on the sprinklers sooner, but I couldn’t bear making the choice of damaging my paintings. For that, I suffered even more.
So even if the house was infallible, I wasn’t.
“Speaking of which, how about I make you some food? The carpenter is coming soon, and I don’t want you left with crackers and canned tuna.”
Because I’ll be retreating to the panic room. It used to be my safe space, and now it’s a painful reminder of just how trapped I am in this house. At least I trust him to handle things I can’t bring myself to deal with.
“You’re spoiling me,” I hum, tickling him with a kiss to the crook of his shoulder.
“Always. You’re never getting rid of me. You’d have to throw me down the well of the dead.”
A little nickname he gave the shaft down which we threw the many bodies we had to dispose of.
“You’d have a lot of company in there. Wouldn’t that be fun?” I ask, trailing kisses down his shoulder. Ah, I’ve never met another man this addictive.
When he goes to the fridge, I follow him, never taking my hands off him.
“I dread to think what’s going on there. In a hundred years, someone will find it, and call this place Horror House. Or Mutilation Mansion.”
I can’ stop myself from laughing. “You seem very set on the alliterations, I see. Will the cave where they all fall into be called the Dread Dome, or Carnivorous Cave?”
“Human Hungry Hole.”
He knows what he did there. Victor smirks as he cracks some eggs into a bowl already filled with chopped peppers .
My brows raise, and I press my thumb against my man’s ass. “I think one hungry hole is enough for this place, and you have two.”
His smile widens and he wiggles his ass against my finger even as he puts butter in a pan. “Hm? I’d say there’s three if we include your mouth.”
He’s got me there.
I sink against him, chest to his back, my arms holding him close as he adds salt and pepper to the bowl and whips everything together. “When will we be done with the renovations?”
“Why? Are you dying to be out of solitary confinement? My poor tiger trapped in a tiny cage.”
“This tiger wants to pounce you at all hours of the day,” I confirm, though it’s not just about sex. I can still paint in the panic room, though only in small format, but after weeks of enjoying Victor’s company around the clock, I’m now missing it whenever he is away.
Victor chuckles as he pours his egg mixture into the pan. “You just say that so I don’t put poison in your omelette.”
“You like riding my cock far too much to get rid of me.” I love kissing his neck. It’s so sensitive and never fails to make Victor a bit dozy. Maybe we could still call off the carpenters for the day?
When I rub one of his nipples, he gently pats my hand away with the spatula. “That is true. I have quite the dilemma on my hands. Great dick or going back to a life where I kill time by drawing dead people.”
“Your life is so hard,” I comment and squeeze both his nipples.
“Hey! I’m trying to flip it.” He gets it half right, but I’ve got no doubt it’ll taste good anyway. Once he plates it, he turns to me with a soft smile. “If there was a zombie apocalypse and I had to stay in a bunker with just one person for the rest of my life, I’d choose you in a heartbeat.”
My lips stretch into a grin as I look around. “This is a pretty lush bunker. What if we were forced to live only in the panic room?”
“Still you.” Victor gives me a kiss.
My phone buzzes with an alert about someone being at the gate. I hate that I have to go, but at least I have a plate with a steaming omelette.
I sigh and pick it up along with the cooling mug of coffee I made earlier. “Don’t flirt with the builders.”
“But what if it gets me a discount?” He spreads his arms and picks up a T-shirt. At least I’ll know my cum is still in him while they’re here.
I give his ass a swat and shake my head as I walk off. “I will have to put them into the Human Hungry Hole, and we don’t want that.”
“No we don’t!” he yells after me. “Do you know how hard it is to get good staff these days?”
Sadly, I’m too far away to continue the joke, but I remotely open the gate for the van as I retire to the panic room.
Victor isn’t really a house mouse, but since he started sleeping here with me, the room became cozier.
We’ve added a couple of pictures to the wall, and he dragged his favorite fluffy blanket to our new bed, but I still would rather stay with him.
Still, I don’t think my paranoia could take being around strangers, so I sit back in front of my desk and look at the wall of screens while I have a first taste of my breakfast.
Even now, after weeks of him dealing with the renovators and builders without a snag, I hate seeing those strangers enter through the front door.
It’s three men much bigger than him, carrying a bag of tools each.
Builders are often bigger guys, so nothing all that unusual.
They’re talking about the beam support to add in the studio, and Victor is smiling at them, all casual.
I wish I could be the one handling all this for him, because my issues are mine, and he shouldn’t need to deal with them indefinitely. He has so much grace for me though, and I’m grateful that the universe brought us together.
I stuff my mouth full of the omelette, watching the screens.
I could already think through my next doodle, but the truth is that I can’t focus on my art while there are strangers in the house, which means this will likely be another day of listening to audiobooks while staring at men slicing through wood and putting planks together.
One of them keeps up a lively conversation with Victor while the two others venture deeper inside the building, which has me frowning. I don’t see why they need to do that, unless they’re looking for the restroom.
Victor would have told them where it is, so I don’t see why—
I zoom in when I spot one of the men who stayed behind crowding Victor against the wall.
What the fuck?
I get up just as Victor raises his hands, speaking to the man quickly, but then I spot it. A knife against Victor’s neck.