42. Vasilisa
Chapter 42
Vasilisa
S anto’s tongue is a masterstroke of pleasure, invading my mouth with a slow and deliberate dominance that leaves me breathless. His taste is intoxicating. I taste the lingering remnants of myself on his mouth, it is a heady and arousing sensation that only adds to the intoxicating experience.
Santo’s gaze meets mine, dark with a mixture of love and lust. My arms instinctively wrap around him, my fingers tracing the sculpted muscles on his back. He looks at me with reverence, as if I am a gift he can’t believe he has been given.
His cock is pressed firmly against me, reminding me of the promise of what’s to come. My lips part for a gasp as he rubs himself against my sensitive clit, grinding slowly.
“Keep your eyes on me.” His voice is a velvet command, soft yet unyielding.
The moment he pushes inside me, my breath catches. The stretch is unfamiliar, a sharp sting that flares for only a second before his lips find mine again, his kiss swallowing any sound of discomfort. His fingers thread through my hair, cradling me, treating me like I am something fragile.
But I am not.
I want this. I want him.
The discomfort fades as quickly as it came, replaced by the overwhelming sense of him—of us —and how right this feels. Each inch seals the claim he has on me and my breath hitches as he fills me completely. Santo stills, allowing me to adjust to the stretch. I become hyper-aware of every nerve ending, every sensation. His hands soothing over my skin, his lips trailing reverent kisses down my throat as he starts to move.
The first slow thrust steals the air from my lungs.
The second ignites something I cannot name.
The third destroys me.
He pulls back, sliding almost all the way out before pushing back into me again. A deep moan spills from my lips, my body arching into him, seeking more, needing everything he has to give. His scent surrounds me—spicy, warm, unmistakably Santo—and I bury my face into his neck, clinging to him as if I might shatter from the sheer intensity of it all.
His movements are torturously slow, every stroke measured, every roll of his hips deliberate, drawing me deeper into the heat, the hunger between us. His fingers slide down my body, skimming over my breasts, tracing the curve of my waist before settling on my hip. He holds me there, guiding our bodies together in a rhythm that is both gentle and devastating.
Then his thumb finds my clit.
A bolt of lightning shoots through me, my body seizing at the exquisite pleasure. A startled cry leaves my lips, my back arching off the bed as he circles it in lazy, knowing strokes.
Santo chuckles against my skin, the sound dark and satisfied.
“My girl likes that, doesn’t she?” His voice is a low murmur against my ear, followed by the teasing scrape of his teeth over my earlobe.
I can’t speak. I can’t think.
I can only feel .
All I can do is moan, lost in the sensations flooding me. His thumb continues to work magic on my clit as he thrusts deeper into me.
The fire inside me now an inferno that threatens to consume us both. But Santo’s slow, deliberate strokes only fuel the flames, each one sending sparks of ecstasy through my body until I’m lost in a haze of molten desire coursing through my veins sparking a jolt of pleasure that consumes me.
“You feel perfect, Dea,” he groans, his voice thick with desire, reverberating through me. “Your body was made for mine,” his words echo in the room, they aren’t just desire— they feel like a vow.
A whimper escapes me, my body tightening around him, every muscle trembling under the sheer force of pleasure. My eyes flutter shut, but Santo’s voice pulls me back.
“Look at me.”
The command is gentle but firm.
I open my eyes, and what I see unravels me.
Raw, unfiltered devotion.
Not just lust. Not just possession.
Something deeper. Something terrifying. Something beautiful.
He plunges deeper, and a sharp cry rips from my throat, my body arching as he finds that delicious spot inside me.
“That’s it,” he encourages, his voice ragged, his control fraying. “Give in to it.”
My world narrows down to just him and I; his thumb on my clit, his cock filling me to the hilt, his eyes locked onto mine with such intensity that I can’t look away even if I wanted to.
But I don’t.
I never want to.
“Santo—”
His thumb leaves my clit and presses against my lips.
"Shh..." he soothes, voice dark and demanding. "Open for me."
I part my lips, and he slips his thumb inside, pressing it against my tongue.
"Suck," he orders.
The command sends fire through my veins, a thrill of pleasure so raw it makes my head spin. I obey, wrapping my lips around his thumb, sucking gently, tasting myself on his skin.
Santo groans, his eyes darkening with something feral. He watches me, enraptured, his movements turning deeper, rougher, more desperate.
“You’re so perfect,” he grits out, his voice breaking as he pulls his thumb from my mouth, tracing my lower lip before sliding his hand down to grip my hip. His body moves over mine with an almost feral intensity, yet his kisses remain soft.
“You’re mine ,” he murmurs against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. The statement is possessive but not domineering; he’s marking his territory, yes, but also acknowledging the reciprocal claim we have on each other. “ All mine.”
His words send a warmth through me. I never wanted to belong to anyone, not until him.
“Yes,” I breathe out, barely more than a whisper, acknowledging our mutual ownership.
“Say it,” he demands softly, his grip on my hip tightening slightly with each word.
“I’m yours,” I manage to gasp out between the onslaught of sensations flooding through me.
“That’s right,” he praises A deep, primal growl rumbles from his chest, the sound possessive, reverent, undone. His grip tightens on my hip as his lips descend on mine in a bruising, all-consuming kiss.
His thrusts turn deeper, sharper, dragging me to the razor’s edge of something I’ve never felt before. Something that pulses in my belly, tightening, coiling, aching for release.
His thick cock stretching me further as he delves deeper into me, driving me closer to the edge of ecstasy. His thumb slides against my clit again, eliciting a choke gasp from my lips.
His heated gaze never leaves mine, the barest flicker of dominance flashing within them as I shudder beneath him.
“More,” I plead, my nails digging into his shoulders. His grip tightens on my hips and he gives a low chuckle, his breath hot against my skin. His teeth graze over my collarbone, before descending lower to tease at a sensitive peak.
The sensation shudders through me, and I moan loudly. He rewards my response with a hard, deep thrust that makes stars dance in front of my eyes.
“Ask for it,” he coaxes, his voice husky with lust as he continues to tease and tantalize me.
“Santo… please.”
“What do you want, Dea?” His voice is a dark caress, slipping down my spine like liquid fire.
“You,” I breathe. “More… please .”
Satisfaction flickers in his gaze, a wicked gleam. “Like this?” he asks as he delivers a hard, precise thrust that steals my breath.
He grinds against me, his movements eliciting more unreadable sounds from me. His name forms on my lips as a prayer, a plea for mercy from the maddening pleasure that threatens to consume me entirely.
“Yes, just like that please ,” I manage to respond, my voice breaking on the final word.
He grins down at me, his eyes dark with desire, gloating at the mess he’s made of me. “You’re so beautiful when you beg, Dea.”
His words strike an unfamiliar chord within me. It’s not just the lust that laces his voice or the tenderness behind his gaze; it’s how he sees all of me, accepts all of me. I’m his .
He stills, pulling out slightly and causing my hips to lift to chase the feeling.
“One more time, Dea,” Santo whispers against my lips. “Ask for my cock one more time.”
“ Please, I want it, ” I gasp, desperate.
And then he drives into me.
A sudden explosion of pleasure rips through me coating every nerve ending with that familiar delicious euphoria. His pace quickens in response to my body’s reaction, his thumb on my clit matching the rhythm of his thrusts and it doesn’t take long before I’m spiraling into pure ecstasy.
“You’re so close, Vasilisa, let go for me,” he murmurs.
I shake my head helplessly, clinging onto the precipice of pleasure by a mere thread.
“Santo,” I whimper. “I...I...”
“Come for me, Dea,” he demands, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down my spine. “I need you to.”
His words are my undoing. With a cry that rips from my throat, I surrender to him, succumbing to the onslaught of pleasure that crashes over me in wave after wave of delicious ecstasy. My body convulses beneath him as my climax tears through me, every muscle tensing then shuddering in its wake.
Santo’s movements become more frantic, more desperate. His thrusts lose their rhythm, becoming uneven and jerky as his own peak approaches. With a primal groan, he buries his face into the crook of my neck. His teeth graze against my skin, applying just enough pressure to leave a mark but not enough to break the skin—a reminder of this moment forever sealed into my flesh.
Then he stills, his body taut as a bowstring above me. The feel of his cock pulsating within me sends another shockwave of pleasure coursing through my system, making me twitch and shiver beneath him. His grip on me tightens as he rides out his climax.
As our breathing slowly returns to normal, he collapses on top of me. Our bodies are slick with sweat and tangled together in a mess of limbs. He pulls out gently and rolls off me, pulling me with him so I end up sprawled across his chest. His heartbeat thrums steadily beneath my ear.
“You were perfect,” he says simply, placing a kiss on my forehead. His arms wrap protectively around me, my heart fluttering at the intimacy of the moment.
“Finché il mondo non cesserà di esistere,” he whispers against my hair before pressing a soft kiss to the crown of my head. “Until the world ceases to exist.”
I glance up at Santo to find him already looking at me with soft eyes, a content smile playing on his lips.
I’ve exposed myself to him completely tonight, given him a part of me that no one else will ever touch, and in return he’s given me a piece of himself - his devotion, his protection, his love.
***
When I wake, it’s still dark outside, Santo’s softly breathing asleep beside me. I am deliciously sore, and I immediately think of taking a nice warm bath. Slowly, I ease myself from his grasp, careful not to wake him. He stirs slightly, his lips twitching into a slight frown as he tightens his grip on the pillow I was just laying on. I smile softly, running my fingers through his sleep-mussed hair before slipping away. I shut the door carefully, then flick on the light. I catch myself in the mirror, my reflection is practically glowing. My hair is a wild mess, faint love bites scattered along my neck and shoulders. A blush rises in my cheeks as the memories flood back—the way Santo had worshipped me. Owned me. Loved me.
I shake off the memories—for now—and run the bath, adjusting the heat until the steam curls in the air, promising relief. As steam begins to fill the room, I add some of the jasmine scented bubble bath that sits on the edge of the tub.
A dull ache lingers in my muscles, and my stomach protests with a quiet growl. I think of my stash of snacks waiting in the kitchen, but first— a book . A quick trip to the library will make the bath even better. A book, a bath, and something sweet. The perfect way to ease both my mind and body.
I flick off the light and slip through the door, silent as a whisper, careful not to wake him. I slip on Santo’s discarded button-down, his scent wrapping around me like a second skin, and tiptoe toward the library. The sound of my footsteps echoes through the empty mansion, shattering the silence.
In the library, I quickly locate the S. J Nandez book I had been wanting to read and rush towards the back of the room where a hidden elevator awaits. With a firm pull on the bookshelf, the elevator appears, and I press my finger onto the call button. It beeps softly before sliding open its doors and welcoming me inside.
With my book tucked under my arm, I descend to the pantry where my snacks await. My thoughts flutter back Santo and my body thrums as my face heats, I have never been happier.
The doors slide open, and I flick on the pantry light, spotting my box of snacks. I place my book safely on the shelf and dig through my treats, my stomach grumbles again in anticipation, maybe I’ll have a quick snack cake now before I return to my bath.
Santo
My wife thinks she slipped away unnoticed, but the second she left my arms, I felt it . For a moment, I thought about following her, slipping into the tub behind her, pressing kisses down her back until she melted into me again. But then the lights went out, so I closed my eyes and listened to her scramble around the room and leave.
At first, I’m furious; ready to chase her down. But then I check the time. I’ve watched my wife long enough to know her habits. Right about now, she’s raiding her stash of snacks, one she foolishly thinks I don’t know about. I hear the hum of the elevator descending, either she called in down to her or she went upstairs to the library. I leave the warmth of our bed and head to use the bathroom.
I’m immediately hit with the scent of jasmine and a faint smile plays on my lips. The room is still warm from the steam that had filled it earlier, making me long for her even more. Begrudgingly I take care of business and then wash my hands. I glance at myself in the mirror and smirk at the sight of a slight hickey on my neck. My eyes focus on the counter before me, our toothbrushes side by side, her makeup scattered on the counter next to my razor and shaving cream, and not far away, a stray lock of her hair wound around my comb. She’s mine. In every way, in every moment. And fuck, I love it.
Tidied and freshened up, I decide to surprise her. I pull on some sweatpants and call up the elevator. As I descend there’s a sense of delight warming me from inside at the thought of seeing her. I had her in my arms minutes ago, but somehow, I miss her. The doors slide open and the sight that greets me as I step into the pantry is delightful beyond words: she’s sitting cross-legged on the pantry floor, a box full of snacks spread out before her and an open book resting on her knees. Her hair, which was a wild mess when we went to sleep, is now pulled back into a loose bun revealing the hickeys that litter her neck and shoulders and all I want to do is add more, mark her for everyone to see.
She hears the elevator and looks up, eyes wide, caught mid-chew like a guilty little thief. My little thief. The look in her eyes is worth every moment of holding back my laughter. It’s pure panic but also adorably endearing.
Crossing my arms over my bare chest, I lean back against the elevator doors taking, in every detail of this sight because this—this right here—is a memory worth cherishing.
She swallows hard, then gasps, “Santo!” like I just caught her committing a crime. Her face is flushed as she stammers, “I thought you were asleep.”
I push myself off the door and stalk towards her, a smirk playing at my lips. “And I thought my wife was relaxing in the bath, not hiding in the pantry like a little gremlin,” I retort before crouching before her. Picking up a piece of chocolate, I hold it out to her.
“How about we share this stash?” I suggest, tracing her lower lip with the chocolate.
“ My stash,“ she corrects with a pout but doesn’t resist when I slip the chocolate between her lips.
As she takes a bite of the decadent treat, I lean closer to capture her lips with mine. My goddess indulges in chocolate like a fiend, and it shows on her fingers, nose, and lips, all coated in melted sweetness.
“How did you know about my secret stash?” she asks, closing her book and giving me a playful glare.
“Usually, you eat them in the kitchen in front of the camera,” I tease, “I’ve seen you slam back six snack cakes in a row. I don’t know where you put it all.”
“Hey now, I used to have to climb a million stairs before I had this elevator. I might just get fat now,” she playfully sticks her tongue out at me, “But you probably would enjoy that, wouldn’t you?”
“Enough teasing,” I say as I scoop her up from the floor, causing her to squeal and giggle in protest as she wraps her legs around me.
“Look at you,” I murmur, swiping my thumb over her bottom lip, stealing the chocolate she missed. “A complete, delicious mess. And now, I have to clean you up.”
“No, my book!” she whines, reaching out for it as I carry her towards the elevator.
“I’ll bring it with us,” I promise, picking up the book, but before I can take another step she squeals again. “My snacks!”
“They’re all over your face,” I chuckle, gently wiping away some of the chocolate smudges with my thumb.
“But I still need them,” she pouts, clinging onto me.
“Alright, alright,” I give in and grab a few more snack cakes for her before finally making it to the elevator doors.
As we ascend, she buries her face into the nape of my neck, and I’ve never felt more powerful or vulnerable than I do right now. I am holding my entire reason for existence in my arms and the thought of ever losing this feeling I have right now, is earth shattering. I had reserved myself to a life of bachelorhood, building my business and helping Angelo lead Cosa Nostra. I never believed there was more for me, but here she is in my arms.
The elevator doors open into our closet, but I don’t let her down until we make it into the bathroom. I set her snacks and book on the edge of the tub and wipe her face with a washcloth.
She hides her face against my chest, her cheeks flaming. I chuckle, my fingers nimble as they deftly unbutton my shirt off her body and let it pool around her feet. “Look at me,” I coax her gently, my fingers tugging lightly on her chin. She shakes her head in to my chest. “Please,” I whisper.
Slowly, she lifts her gaze to mine, a hint of uncertainty swirling in the depths of her eyes. “I love every fucking inch of you, and you know it. You’re perfect,” I reassure her, swooping down to capture her lips in a soft kiss. Her body relaxes against mine, any resistance fading away as I hoist her up once more
“Ready for your bath now?” I question, carrying her towards the large marble tub still filled with warm water and bubbles. Despite protests about ‘ not needing help, ’ she doesn’t resist when I lower her into the tub, a sigh escaping her as the warm water envelopes her body.
I stay on the edge of the tub, tracing idle patterns on her knee peeking out of the water while she feeds herself snack cakes. The sight is endearing enough that I can’t help but to tease, “You’re like a mermaid feasting on land food.”
“That makes you my pirate then?” she retorts with a giggle.
Leaning down, I captured her lips in a searing kiss. When we pull apart, her face is flushed, and her eyes are hazy with desire. “Oh, Dea, you have no idea what I’d do to you as your pirate,” I warn her before standing up.
Her breath hitches and I remove my sweats, her face blooms a soft pink as she lowers her gaze.
I surprise her when the water splashes onto the floor as I gather her up into my arms again and she squeals. I step into the tub, lowering us both into the warm water. Her grip around my neck loosens as she lets out a hum of satisfaction, situating herself to lean back against my chest.
“See, isn’t this better?” I murmur into her ear, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of her neck causing her to giggle and snuggle further into me. She grabs her book and hands it to me, “Lets read.”
I look at the cover. “S. J Nandez? You like her work?”
She nods. “I love it.”
“Hmm, I actually know her.”
Vasilisa eyebrows raise and she regards me suspiciously. I laugh. “Not like that.”
“Good, I would have to burn that book if that were true, and I hate harming books,” Vasilisa murmurs.
In this moment, as I hold her in my arms and read to her, her laughter echoing off the bathroom walls and filling my heart with a warmth I’ve never known before. I am certain that I am undeniably in love with this woman. My darkness fades when I’m around her, her scent grounds me in peace. I’ve found my light. And I’m never letting go.