18. Sisi
18
SISI
H e's on his knees between my parted legs, and I move my eyes lower, to his pebbled stomach, the ink only serving to emphasize the tight squares of his abdominals more. His waist tapers down, and I note his wet pants, and the way they mold to his hips and...
I swallow hard as I see the contour of his cock, and I get an idea of what my words do to him.
I'm not ashamed to admit I'd explored the internet in my quest to find out why he makes me feel this way, and I'd read enough to know that that isn't the norm. But then again, everything about him is superlative, so I shouldn't be surprised that his cock is an outrageous size too.
And yet, even as my eyes have a hard time believing something that big will be able to fit inside of me, I can't help the way I squeeze my walls instinctively, almost able to imagine him sliding in and...
A moan escapes my lips, the image too vivid, my body more awake than ever.
His gaze darkens as he watches the way my pussy slowly contracts, more wetness pouring out of me .
"Damnation, Hell Girl," he growls, palming that monster in his pants. "Your pussy's too fucking perfect," he says, shaking his head as he keeps on staring.
Suddenly, his hands skirt along the edge of my panties and a breath catches in my throat as he slides them down my legs. The action is so tantalizingly slow it's only building up my anticipation—and my frustration.
He chuckles when he sees my impatience, leaning down and teasing my lips with his own.
"I want to wreck you, Sisi," he whispers, his mouth hovering on top of mine. There's an intensity to the way he looks at me, and I truly believe him capable of doing just that. If anything, I'd welcome it.
Maybe even beg him for it.
"I want to tear you apart and put you back together." He trails his tongue down my face and onto my chin, goosebumps appearing all over my skin. "But in the reconstruction phase, I'd keep something of yours," his teeth scrape along the curve of my neck, "so that you're never whole without me."
"Yes." I find myself agreeing, even though his words should make me run. "Please," I whisper, and his mouth opens wide right at the junction of my neck, his teeth lodging into my skin and breaking the surface.
I gasp at the unexpected pain. He applies suction, and my legs open up, letting him fit himself between them, seeking that close contact.
"For now," he whispers as he raises his head, blood staining his white teeth, "I'll settle for this."
A rough kiss and then he continues his journey along my body, stopping briefly over my stomach and trailing his tongue down. He nestles his head between my legs, and for one brief moment I want to protest.
But as he gives me a long lick my head hits the blanket with a loud moan.
"You're wicked," I breathe out, and I feel him smile against my pussy. He wraps his lips around my clit, sucking it into his mouth .
My hands fist the blanket, my thighs trembling as he continues his ministrations. Bringing his finger to my entrance, he tests my opening, finding me snug around him.
"Christ," he exclaims, his hot breath fanning over my pussy making me squirm, and one hand sneaks behind my waist, holding me flush against him. "You're so tight, I can barely fit a finger, Hell Girl. Fuck me, I can't help but imagine the way you'll bleed all over my cock," he rasps, his words meant to scandalize, but instead they only arouse me further.
I want to bleed all over him.
Lord, but I must be losing my mind.
Thrusting his finger in and out of me, he continues to tease me with his tongue, an ache forming inside of me as my arousal mounts. I writhe beneath him, my thighs bucking, my muscles tensing as he bites down on my clit, the pain mingling with pleasure in an unstoppable crescendo.
At some point, it feels too much, and I try to twist away from him, but he doesn't let me. Holding me even tighter, he thrusts in and out of me, his tongue gliding over my clit.
Suddenly, I start spasming around him, a gush of wetness flowing out of my channel. He continues to lap at me, devouring my release. It's an assault on the senses as he continues to wreak havoc on my body, coaxing more sensations.
When he's finally done with me, I'm boneless.
"What are you doing to me?" I barely find the strength to ask, my eyes droopy, my breathing harsh.
"Bribing you," he drawls, slowly trailing his tongue on my belly. "Giving you so much pleasure, you're going to become addicted to me." He smirks at me.
I almost groan at his arrogance, but the truth is that it would be so easy to become addicted to him. Certainly, his kisses have become my new favorite form of sustenance. Add the orgasms to my new diet and he's near damn indispensable.
But there's more to him than that. Way more.
It's in his darker than black eyes, and the suffering that sometimes leaks through the cracks. It's in his perfectly built facade and the way he presents himself to the world. But more than anything, it's in the way he allows me glimpses beneath his mask.
I see the screeching loneliness and the maniac instability, all leaving way to a pure yet misunderstood genius.
And I want it all.
I crave it all.
There's no explanation for the things he makes me feel. My own essence calls out to his in a way that sometimes makes me question my own sanity.
But do I really need to be sane when I'm with him?
There's freedom in his brand of insanity—of ruthlessness, violence and brutality. And no matter how much I've tried to rationalize him, I simply can't.
He's beyond logic, and even beyond feeling, in a realm of his own where rules don't exist.
He interrupts my train of thought as he moves up my body, taking my mouth in an aggressive kiss and making me lose my head.
Intoxicating.
That's what I'd call his lips when they touch mine.
I'm lost in his embrace and I don't even realize as he rolls us over, until I'm lying on top of him, my naked skin against his.
I release a contented sigh, feeling happier than I've ever been, a sense of belonging slowly beckoning me and letting me know I may have found my place.
Nuzzling my cheek in the crook of his neck, I start tracing his tattoos, noting that many of the figures resemble demons.
"What do they mean?" I ask, glancing up to find him staring at me with an inscrutable look on his face.
"My curse," he answers cryptically, tightening his arms around me.
Taking a deep breath, I just allow myself to enjoy the proximity of his body, the way my skin feels next to his, and as we start talking some more, I find myself confiding in him about my dilemma with my brother.
"I don't think I'm welcome there," I admit, laying out my vulnerability for him .
"Why?" He frowns.
"Marcello is..." I trail off, not knowing how to put it since he is friends with my brother, "He doesn't seem very happy I'm there. Most of the time he ignores me, and when we finally had a conversation he was incredibly awkward." I take a deep breath, trying to dispel the knot forming in my throat.
Vlad is silent for a moment.
"Don't judge him too harshly," he finally says, turning to look me in the eye. His hand caresses my face, tucking a strand behind my ear. "I've known Marcello since we were young. He hasn't had it easy, and considering the circumstances of your birth, I don't fault him for being a little closed off."
"What do you mean?" I ask, blinking rapidly.
What circumstances of my birth?
"I'm not sure how much you know about your birth mother," Vlad continues, his voice unusually soothing, "but she was mentally ill. She was also a religious fanatic who thought the devil was trying to tempt her at every turn. Marcello didn't have an easy childhood because of that. When you were born, she was convinced you had the mark of the devil," he says, his fingers tracing the red mark above my brow.
"Marcello knew he couldn't let you live with her, or with your father, since he was even worse, so he thought it best to send you to Sacre Coeur. I don't think he's ever forgiven himself, though, for sending you away," Vlad mentions.
I take a moment to digest what he's saying.
"Were they that bad?" I ask eventually, because in my mind nothing could be worse than what I'd endured at Sacre Coeur.
"You don't want to know," Vlad replies. "There's bad, and then there are your parents," he says, and I take his word.
If Vlad thinks they were bad, then chances are they were.
"Thank you for telling me," I whisper, brushing my lips against his.
This changes things, and it makes me want to put in the effort to know my brother a little better. Maybe I'm not as unwanted as I'd initially thought.
T he following day I have a hard time keeping my eyes open. Vlad had returned me home in the early hours of the morning, and I barely got a wink of sleep. We'd ended up eating, drinking and talking all night, alternating between playing in the water and walking down the beach.
Being the only people there had been liberating, and we'd enjoyed a small break from the humdrum of daily life. I also know that Vlad has become increasingly stressed with finding his sister, and that's all he's doing in the time I'm not with him.
A headache mounting, I make my way to the dining room, ready for family time. Even though Vlad had shed some light on Marcello and his behavior, that doesn't mean I still don't feel like an outsider.
Just as I start down the stairs, I see my brother and Lina kissing in the hallway.
At least someone's happy.
"Sisi?" Lina asks, and I avert my gaze, hiding a smile at witnessing her tender moment with Marcello.
"Sisi, wait!" she calls out as I head toward the dining room.
"What?" I turn to her, frowning.
"What's that?" she inquires, coming to my side and moving my hair aside. She points to something on my neck and it takes me a moment to realize what she's talking about... and how I'd gotten it.
Oh, damn!
"Are you ill?" she continues, obviously worried about me. My heart beating loudly in my chest, I mumble an excuse.
"What? No... something must have bitten me." The lie slips easily, but I can't bring myself to meet her eyes. "I'm hungry, I'll see you in the dining room." I quickly excuse myself and dash out.
That was a close call.
What was Vlad thinking to leave that type of mark on my skin, knowing people would see? More than anything, what was I thinking to allow such a thing?
I shake my head at myself. It's like I lose all inhibitions the moment I find myself in his presence.
We're taking increasingly more risks, and I don't want to think of Lina or Marcello's reactions if they found out how I've been spending my nights. Getting to know Vlad a little better has made me aware of something. We might fit perfectly together, but that doesn't mean the outside world will see it as such.
From what Vlad had told me, I'd been able to glean that he isn't much accepted into society. Hell, Marcello, who by all accounts is his friend, doesn't trust him to not go into a murderous rage at any point.
If anyone knew just how much time we spent together, or how much he's started to mean to me, I have no doubt they would try to put a stop to our rendezvous. And because of that, I can't afford to slip, not even a bit.
Yes, Vlad is my little secret, but at this point he's the only thing keeping me sane.
It's later in the evening that I muster the courage to seek Marcello out.
Knocking on the door of his study, I steel myself when I hear his voice calling out, "Come in."
Entering, I hold my head high as I take a seat in front of him.
"Yes?" he says, surprised to see me.
"I wanted to tell you thank you," I start, and his eyebrows shoot up in confusion. "For taking me in, and for offering me this chance to start anew," I explain.
"Sisi, you don't have to thank me for anything," he replies, and for a moment I'm shocked as I hear him use my nickname instead of my full name as he usually does. "This is your home, too. If anything, I should be asking for your forgiveness for not inquiring earlier whether you wanted to stay at Sacre Coeur. I just assumed..." he trails off, looking uncomfortable. "It was wrong of me to think that just because Sacre Coeur was all you've ever known that you wouldn't be curious about the outside world."
"You couldn't have known," I tell him. "For all intents and purposes, I looked right at home at Sacre Coeur."
I sigh deeply. Years of interacting with the same people seem to have stunted my ability to relate to others.
"I'm glad we've sorted this out." I give him a small smile .
"Me too. I would hate for you to think you're unwelcome in your own house. I know you have a very tight relationship with Lina and Claudia, but I'd like if we could get to know each other too. Slowly." He returns my smile with one of his own.
"I'd like that," I nod.