70. Nero
NERO
At the doorway, I kick off my shoes before she yells at me for tracking dirt through it, as I’ve learned is a huge issue.
She’s spinning, stretching, and making motions with her arms I should probably learn the terms for. Her reflection displays her eyes being shut, which works for me.
Keeping my steps as quiet as possible, I reach her without warning. My heart thrums quicker at my success when my hands wrap her hips, making her squeal as I tug her against me. Her eyes fling open, the familiar look of guilt darkening them but shaken off by her next breath.
“Why,” I growl in her ear, sliding my hands up her sides until my fingers brush the underside of her breasts, covered by stretchy material, “are you not in your bed, where you promised you’d be?”
“I need to practice. My performances will slip if I don’t. Between healing and then hunting, my ballet needs to be a priority.”
I nearly groan aloud at the memory of us hunting the four remaining rapists.
It was a side of Ana I’d only heard about but have yet to have the pleasure of seeing.
Watching her torment them after capturing them, the moment in her club’s basement with that one guest so many months ago is nothing compared to her viciousness when she really unleashes her hatred.
After the first kill, I didn’t wait until returning to the hotel that night before fucking her, unable to go a single second longer without being inside her.
Reminding her that no matter their begs and pleas, or their sick recounting of the past, she’s here with me.
She’s safe. She’s no longer her father’s pawn.
She’s no one’s pawn, not even mine.
Fuck, if anything, I’m hers because I’d do anything for the maddening woman who stole my heart, mind, and sanity.
I’d like to say it was only the first kill, but no, it was all four. She got crueller with them, more vicious. Stronger. She reclaimed the stolen parts of her, only returned by their screams and later the light fading from their eyes.
“Isn’t that more reason to rest? Your body might still be tired.”
“But it’s not.” In the reflection, her lips pull into a smirk. “If I take more time away, my muscles will hate me more than they already do. I’m not fragile.”
“I’m aware you’re not. You’re the strongest person I know.” I squeeze her harder, proving all the other ways she’s strong too. “No one else could have done what you did.”
Horrors momentarily flick over her expression, pulling her into a shadowy part of her trauma. We spoke a lot about trauma after the fourth and final kill, that despite being at a nightmare-free place, the possibility these murders would dredge it up.
It gave me the chance to prove I was the safe person in her life, someone she could trust with everything, especially her history. To never do what they did.
I reach up to tug her hair from the messy bun she’s folded it haphazardly into. It sends strands down over her shoulders, which I then move to the side to bare her skin.
“I meant it, cara mia. You’re as strong as fuck, and I’m honoured to be the man you’ve chosen to stand beside you and take life on with you.”
“I’m the lucky one.” She slides a hand up my arm and up around my head until tangling with my hair. “You’re my everything, Nero.”
“You’re my soul.” My lips press into her skin once before spreading in a smile. “But I’m still irritated you’re not resting. If you’re so insistent on being up and moving, have you stretched today?”
“Obviously. My outfit, the location—none of that gave it away?” She gestures to the light sheen of sweat covering her, which implies she’s been here for a while. “I always stretch before working out. You should know that by now.”
“Good.” It’s a whisper in her ear that causes goose bumps to spread on the back of her neck.
My hands slide from her waist up to over her breasts, her nipples hardening through the thin material of the leotard. I pass over them again, then pinch, earning a low breath while she remains upright, gaze locked onto our reflection.
“Time to stretch for me. Show me how you do it.”
I dip without warning, sliding a hand around her knee to hoist her leg up and straight, positioning her ankle over the barre. Her natural balance has her instantly shifting her other foot to remain steady, but it doesn’t dull the dagger gaze she narrows at me.
“This is supposed to prove what?”
“This is so you’ll get the stretch your dance requires. Let me love you, Ana.” My tongue drags over her neck, flicking against her pulse and teasing what I’ll be doing between her legs shortly. “Let me ruin you, cara mia. Let me prove how we’re made for one another.”
I move in front of her and drop to my knees—exactly the place I plan on being for the rest of our lives.
The material of her outfit is pitifully thin and tears easily when I fist it and yank, splitting it right at the seam between her legs, making her release a low gasp.
“Do you realize how pricey these things can get?”
“Do you realize that I’m hungry for my girl’s pussy and don’t give a fuck?”
Her panties are even thinner than her outfit’s material, which are easy to get rid of too. Another rip and I’m pocketing them too. Her pussy is bare and on display, the sweet scent of her making my cock press against my slacks.
Soon.
“You’re gonna keep stretching for me, cara mia. You’ll be good and keep your leg up for me, won’t you? Drop it, and I’ll keep you on edge the rest of the day.”
Fire meets my eyes, burning with both frustration and desire. It stokes a grin, thrilled with how she’ll play along.
My palms slide inside the material until reaching her lips. She’s wet and accepts the finger I push inside easily.
“You know what I thought about the first time I was in this studio? All the ways to make you dance. How loud I can make you scream. To imprint myself so deeply into this building, I’m all you see whenever you’re in here.
I wanted so badly to make you mine back then, but now…
” I slide my fingers from her, circle her clit once to break her concentration, and thrust them back inside.
“Now you are, and there’s no undoing this.
I won’t let you go. Not after all the work I did to get you. ”
As she cries out and smacks the barre, I replace my fingers with my tongue, merciless in my thrusts as she grips onto both my head and the barre for balance. If only I could watch her in the mirror, but with my mouth on her sweet cunt, there’s still plenty of time for it.
I’m relentless, licking and sucking, teasing her clit until she’s rocking in my grip. Her weight drops onto my hold as her legs grow weaker, trying to keep her upright. Moans fill the room until she gasps louder, fingers fisting my hair—as if I was planning to go anywhere.
“That’s it,” I murmur before attacking her clit again. “Give it to me, Petrov.”
As her core begins tightening, I shove my fingers back inside her and curl, biting on her clit at the same time.
She comes with a scream, her back arching, hips rocking, and gasps making it so this won’t last as long as I hoped.
As she finishes coming, I lower her leg back to the ground and massage feeling into her thigh. She jolts when I press a kiss to her pretty clit, then drag my lips over her, up her hip, following the course of her stomach and to her breasts, eventually standing to follow the trajectory.
“I still can’t believe you’re mine.”
She holds onto my shoulders for balance. “I’m only yours if you’re mine.”
I give her a crooked grin full of promise. “Damn right.” And to prove it, I rip the rest of her clothing off until her beautiful body is entirely bared to me and her clothes are a torn pile by my feet that, despite the orgasm meant to lull her into bliss, she glares at.
“I promise it’ll be worth it.”
I pace behind her, trailing a finger over her breasts, around her shoulder, and to the top of her spine. My finger makes a similar but opposite trek from what my mouth did, stopping by the curve of her ass.
In the reflection, she watches me. Her eyes darken with lust, head tipping to the side so I can brand her neck the same way I did in the club all those months ago.
This time, I won’t let it fade. I’ll renew it every fucking day and never tell her of these plans, but she’ll know.
Now that I won her, no other man will take her from me.
“Fuck, I love you, cara mia.” It slips out, but doesn’t make it any less true. “I can’t wait to say that for the rest of our lives.”
“Me neither.” Her reflection’s lips part as I trail my lips up her neck, but flick my eyes to watch us in the reflection. My hands go to her hips, caressing around the front, through her damp core, and up to her breasts and the nipples I love so much. “Lift your leg onto the barre.”
Obeying immediately, she lifts the leg opposite from earlier and props her ankle over the barre, shifting until she’s balanced. Not that she’ll be left standing alone for much longer.
“Perfection.” I trail my hand between her thighs, gathering residual come before placing my fingers against her lips, smearing them with her wetness. She opens her mouth to suck them inside, cheeks hollowing out and my cock heats with anticipation.
I undo my jeans and tug out my cock, stroking it before rubbing it between her legs.
“Do it,” she whispers, speaking for the first time other than crying out my name through her orgasm.
“Beg.”
Her eyes narrow, and for a moment I think I’ve fucked up by dipping too far into the zone of triggers she recently laid out for me.
But then her head rolls against my shoulder as she whimpers, “Please fuck me, Nero.” All bets are off the fucking table as I line myself up and thrust hard inside her.
She jolts, staggering into her balance. One hand grips my thigh, nails imprinting her own brand onto me, while the other holds onto my head, keeping me to her neck where I lave my tongue and scrape my teeth, feeling her shiver as I growl, “Those nails you’re digging into me, I’m getting them tattooed onto me.
” All over my damn body so everyone in the world knows I’m hers.
Fuck, I can’t wait to make it official with a ring.
I fuck her hard enough she’s on her toes for balance, holding her to the floor with my hands low on her hip. Although her eyes are shut, lost to pleasure, I watch us in the mirror.
I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than Anastasia on my cock.
“Look at us,” I demand. “Months ago, did I not say we worked well together?”
“You only said that…” Inhale. “‘Cause everyone else was paired off.”
At first, yes, but not entirely. “I said it because I foresaw this exact moment. Look at us,” I repeat, pausing until she obeys. “Look how good we look together. We were made for one another. There’s no one else for me, and I’ll never want another woman.”
“I lo—” She bites on the word as my next push inside her has her core rippling on me, gasping for air and scratching for relief.
“Say it,” I demand. Say it while coming on my cock. True fucking ownership then.
It takes her a while, as one orgasm rolls into another, before she murmurs, “I love you so much, Nero. Thank you for having patience with me.”
Lucky for her, she used up all my patience throughout our struggles. Now, my patience is minuscule as I work to make her come as many times on my cock, pounding into her until we’re both sweaty, limp messes that I lower to the hardwood floor.
Anastasia takes one look at our reflection, then the floor. “You’re paying for the cleaners again.”
“I’ll hire a company to keep on standby because I plan on doing this in here a lot.”
“You think so, hm?” From her reclined position against my damp chest, she tips her head until she’s able to see my face. “This is where I practice. It’s sacred.”
“And you’re sacred to me, cara mia.” My lips press to her forehead, nuzzling her soft skin that now smells like my cologne. “Besides, I know how to earn your forgiveness and rebuild your trust.”
Her hand drifts lazily up and down my thigh as she watches our reflection with a sated smirk. “You broke the code.”
“Also, the wall around your heart.”
She hums, the vibration soft against my chest. “That you did. I suppose it means I love you or something.”
“I know you do. Always trust your heart. It’s never steered you wrong.”
Eleven years ago, Anastasia Petrov brought torment into my life.
I can’t wait for a lifetime more of it from my feisty ballerina.