The door slams behind me, and I stand there, bloodied and frustrated. My hands are cold and coated in the remnants of a man’s life, my clothes soaked in his agony. Mayhem echoes through my thoughts, the violent craze pounding in my head and thumping through my heart. And while my knuckles ache and the cuts bleed, I’m painfully aware that it’s all for nothing. Nunzio remains hidden, like a ghost haunting every inch of my mind.
“Nicoli?” Mira’s voice is hesitant as she slowly walks down the stairs, her green eyes widening at the sight of me. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” I snarl, frustration boiling within me.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.” I glance at the blood on my hands, how it started to crust in the corners of my fingernails. “It’s not mine.”
“Oh, thank God.”
“Well, some of it might be,” I say, opening and closing my fist, the flesh burning as the movement irritates the cuts. Mira’s heels click across the lacquered floor as she closes the distance between us, and she reaches out cautiously, her fingers skimming the edge of my blood-stained sleeve. “Did he survive?”
“No.” My answer is as final as Ben’s last fucking breath.
She flinches, but I see the understanding that flickers across her face. She knows what I’ve done, what I’m willing to do for her. For us. And yet, I can’t help but feel like I’m failing her because no matter how many men I kill, it’s not him.
“I will find him, Mira. I swear to God.”
“I know.”
“But every time I think I’m close, he slips through my fingers,” I confess, my voice raw with frustration. “It’s like he’s a fucking ghost.”
“Nicoli, you will find him,” Mira insists, her grip on my hand tightening. “I believe in you.”
I want to believe her, but with each passing day, the weight of our vendetta grows heavier. As much as I crave retribution for Mira, I can’t help but wonder if I’m strong enough to see it through.
“Come on,” she murmurs, taking my hand and leading me up the stairs to our room. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
As we move through the darkened halls, I can’t shake the weight of my failures. The image of the man’s lifeless body and his screams echoing in my ears—my efforts have yielded nothing. No closer to our vengeance, no closer to making Nunzio pay for what he did to Mira.
Mira closes the bedroom door behind us, circles me, and unbuttons my bloodstained shirt in silence.
I just look at her for a few moments, wishing I had a direct line to her thoughts. Maybe then I’d have a clearer picture of what she needs from me, her husband. Perhaps I’ll understand why she hasn’t shared her secret with me.
“You remember.”
Mira freezes, her fingers still clutching the white button, and she stares at it instead of looking up at me.
“You remember that night in the mausoleum,” I press, but it’s not a question.
Without saying a word, she continues to unbutton my shirt, only faster now, like she’s trying to distract herself from the conversation. I let her for a moment, taking in the sight of her. Mira’s always been beautiful, but in this moment, with her hair falling around her face and the light on her skin casting her in a warm glow, I’m struck by how much I love her.
Finally, when she’s done, she meets my gaze. “I do remember,” she says softly. “I remember everything.”
My heart constricts as I witness the pain of her memories settle on her brow. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
She takes a step back, and I instantly hate the distance she’s putting between us. “I can ask you the same question.” The way her green eyes study me is almost unnerving. “Is that why you kept your distance from me all those years?”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From what? From realizing that I’m a monster? A murderer?” Her voice is soft, yet bitterness vibrates from her words.
“See, that’s exactly why I chose not to tell you. I knew the guilt would be too much for you to handle.”
A dark chuckle rolls from her lips. “Why does everyone think I’m drowning in guilt? Because I’m not. I have the blood of two men and my own brother on my hands, but guilt is not what’s suffocating me. It’s the fact that I don’t feel guilt that scares me. The fact that I might be a psychopath. A monster.”
“You’re not a monster,” I say, reaching for her and tilting her head back with my fingers below her chin. “You demanded justice, Mira. You didn’t kill because you wanted to. You killed because you had to.”
She presses her cherry-red lips into a thin line. “I didn’t have to kill Marco.”
“Yes, you did,” I reply, brushing the back of my hand across her jaw. “He cost you your life. He took everything away from the four-year-old you. If you didn’t kill him that night, I would have.”
“Your intentions don’t justify my actions. Just like our need for revenge doesn’t justify you going around killing people.”
“Doesn’t it?”
“No.” She slides her hands underneath my unbuttoned shirt, gently easing it over and off my shoulders. “If I were a good wife, a good woman, I would tell you to stop. If my soul was light,” she continues, her nails brushing down my naked arms, “I would fear the darkness that’s consuming you, demanding blood. But I don’t.” Her eyes meet mine. “I don’t fear it, Nicoli.”
“Why?”
“Because that same darkness consumes me, too.” She takes my hand and places my palm on her chest, the silk of her blouse soft beneath my fingers. “I feel it in here, the same need, the same justice to see Nunzio pay for what he did to us.”
“To you.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Us. What he did, he did to us. You’re hurting just like me, Nicoli.”
“What I’m feeling is nothing compared to what he did to you.”
“Stop,” she urges, letting go of my hand to cup my cheek as her green irises stare straight into my soul. “Yes, I have the memories. The nightmares. But you have the uncertainty, trying to figure out what I had been through and how deep my scars go, and sometimes not knowing is worse than knowing.”
I take a deep breath, feeling her words slice through me like a hot knife. “I just want to protect you, Mira.”
“I know,” she murmurs, leaning up to kiss me gently on the lips. “I love you so much, Nicoli. Please, love me the way you used to.”
I swallow her words, kissing her softly but with purpose, hoping she’ll be able to feel that which I can’t put into words. That she can feel what she is to me, how she’s not just my heart and my air, she’s the life in my soul, and without her I’ll be…nothing.
I watch as Mira’s eyes scan my bloodied body, her gaze flickering with a mix of concern and something else, something darker. Her lips part slightly as she takes in the sight of me, the man who’d do anything for her.
She eases back, and I groan in protest, not nearly done kissing her.
Taking my hand, she looks down at the cuts. “You did this for me.”
“For us.”
“Good,” she whispers, once again meeting my gaze. “Because what I want right now is for you to take this anger and rage and channel it into something… primal.”
My heart races at the implication of her words, the hunger in her eyes reflecting my own insatiable appetite for destruction. Then, I realize how deeply we’re entwined in this twisted dance of vengeance and desire. We’ve become monsters forged in the fires of our shared pain.
“Are you sure, Mira?” I ask, even though I know the answer before she speaks.
“More than anything,” she replies, her voice thick with need. “Let me feel your power, Nicoli. Show me how far you’re willing to go for us.”
“Anything,” I promise, my resolve solidifying as I pull her close, the lines between love and revenge blurring together in one intoxicating moment. “Everything.”
“Good. But first, let me take care of you,” she says softly, her voice barely audible over the pounding of my own heartbeat. She reaches out, her fingers brushing against the dried blood clinging to my skin.
With her fingers weaved through mine, we walk into the ensuite bathroom, the scent of my wife’s perfume lingering in the air—sweet and sensual, a smell I could easily drown in.
My dick is already hard when she starts to unbuckle my belt, her soft hands brushing against my stomach, sending jolts of electricity through me. Her deft fingers touch the sensitive tip, and I close my eyes as I snarl through the surge of lust that grips my balls so fucking tight.
“Eyes on mine,” she orders softly before unzipping my trousers and pushing them down over my hips, freeing my cock. Her eyes darken and dilate as she looks down at my hard length, and like a fucking tease, she traces her fingertips down my V, exploring my body as though it’s something she has to commit to memory, all while avoiding the one place I’m aching for her to touch.
As if every inch of me is some sacred territory she needs to conquer, her gaze transfixed as she continues to stroke her fingertips across my abs. I’m suddenly taken back to a time when desire fueled us, not vengeance. When our passion for each other consumed us wholly. A time when we demanded pleasure unapologetically.
She turns on the shower, steam filling the room as the water heats up. “Step in,” she orders, and I obey, the scalding water cascading over my tense muscles. Mira follows me, the droplets clinging to her golden hair like diamonds.
“Does it make me a monster if this turns me on?” she asks softly. “Knowing you’ve killed for me. Committed unthinkable violence, spilled blood—” her green eyes dart up to mine “—all because you love me?”
Abruptly, I grab her jaw, gripping it tight as I force her to lean back while her eyes remain on mine. “It doesn’t make you a monster, Hummingbird,” I murmur. “It makes you my queen.”
“Promise me, Nicoli,” Mira murmurs, her breath hot against my ear. “Promise me that we’ll face it together no matter what happens. Whether we lose this battle or rise in victory, we do it…together.”
“I promise,” I vow, my voice shaking with the weight of my words. As Mira continues to wash away the remnants of my violent past, I feel a strange sense of hope stir within me. Together, bound by love and vengeance, we will survive the darkness that lies ahead.
“Isn’t it ironic,” she says as she starts to lather soap on my body. “I had to go through hell to realize that you’re not my Prince Charming, but rather my Dark Prince.”
The intensity of her words, coupled with the gentle pressure of her hands as they work to cleanse my skin, sends a shudder through my body. It’s a potent mix of fear, desire, and determination that leaves me reeling. In this moment, surrounded by steam and shadows, our connection feels stronger than ever.
The steady stream of water cascades over our entwined bodies, droplets clinging to Mira’s golden hair like stars in the night sky. Her hands move with a purpose, washing me, cleaning me, the lather of soap slippery between our naked bodies.
She reaches for my hand. “Does it hurt?” she asks softly.
“Only when I think about what Nunzio did to you,” I confess, the raw honesty in my voice echoing through the steamy confines of the shower.
“Nicoli,” Mira murmurs, wrapping herself around me even tighter, “you’re doing everything possible to find him and make him pay. I see that. I know that.”
Her words sting with the unspoken truth, that despite my efforts, Nunzio remains elusive, a ghost haunting our lives. I grit my teeth, fighting back the frustration building inside me.
“Every day that bastard breathes is another day that justice goes unserved,” I say, unable to keep the bitterness from seeping into my tone.
Mira’s hand moves to cup my face, fingertips tracing the contours of my cheekbone. Her touch is like fire against my skin, igniting a desire that threatens to consume me whole. “You’ll find him. I don’t doubt it for a second. And when you do, you and I’ll bathe in his blood together.”
Our mouths collide, passion and rage mingling as we come together in a moment of desperate intensity.
For a fraction of a second, time stands still. The world around us fades away until all that matters is the two of us, united by love, intent on revenge…stronger than ever.
With tongues tangling in a desperate attempt to convey the love and rage coursing through our veins, Mira holds me tight against her, her fingers dancing across my back as she whispers against my lips, “Promise me no matter what happens…we’ll face it together.”
I gather her closer, crushing our bodies together until I feel like nothing can separate us ever again. Our hearts beat as one, two halves of an unbreakable force. “I promise, Hummingbird.”
The water shuts off with a sudden finality, leaving only the sound of our ragged breathing to fill the bathroom. I gaze at Mira, her eyelashes heavy with droplets and her skin flushed from the heat. The sight of sheer desire flashing in her eyes sets a flame burning deep in my soul, one only she can quench.
She licks her lips, those beautiful cherry-reds I could kiss for eternity.
“Nicoli.” She breathes my name like a prayer, and I do the only thing I can. I gather her in my arms, lifting her feet off the ground as I clutch her naked body against my chest, carrying her into the bedroom, leaving wet footprints on the carpet.
For the first time in what feels like an eternity, I can let go of the guilt, anger, and unyielding need for revenge. In this moment, it is just Mira and me, our connection transcending the ugliness of the world outside.
I place her down on her feet, and the atmosphere shifts and thickens with a hunger that can no longer be ignored. Mira’s green eyes, usually so bright and lively, are now darkened by desire as they roam over my body. My breathing is heavy, raw need pulsing through my veins as I pull her close, our lips crashing together in a heated kiss.
“Nicoli,” she gasps, her nails digging into my shoulders as our tongues tangle. “I need you.”
“Fuck, Mira… You have no idea how much I want you right now.” My voice is hoarse, barely audible over the pounding of my heart. As our bodies press closer, the slickness of our wet skin only heightens our touch’s intensity.
Mira’s fingers trace the contours of my chest, sliding lower to grip my throbbing cock. A guttural moan escapes me, and I can’t help but grind into the warmth of her hand. She knows exactly how to touch me, every stroke, every caress, driving me closer to the edge of insanity.
“Please, Nicoli…” Her plea is desperate, her breath hot against my ear. “I need you to love me like you used to. Without limits. Without reservations.”
The power of her words pushes me past the point of no return. I lift her up in one swift motion, her legs wrapping around my waist as I carry her to the bed. The soft fabric of the sheets does little to cushion the force with which I lay her down, grabbing her knees and yanking them open, exposing that beautiful, swollen, pink cunt of hers. And with a growl, I slam my mouth over her wet pussy, my tongue sliding hungrily through her slit, her taste driving me fucking insane. She gasps, weaving her fingers through my hair, writhing beneath me. I thrust my tongue deep inside her, swirling around her clit as she moans and cries out for more.
Using my thumbs, I part her pussy lips even farther, using the tip of my tongue to trace greedy circles around her sensitive flesh before flicking it against her clit, over and fucking over, driving her insane. For the first time in so long, it’s just us without the ghost of that fucker driving a wedge between us, keeping us from loving each other the only way we know how—the way we want to.
Her sex is so wet I easily slip a finger inside her, causing her to arch her back off the sheets. I add another, gently curling them and pushing them farther in as she tightens around my fingers. With each movement comes a louder, more desperate moan from her beautiful lips.
When her thighs start to quiver, I know she’s close, but I’m not done with her yet.
I launch up, planting my feet back down on the carpet. “Get on your knees,” I command, and she obeys without hesitation. As she inches forward, I take my cock by the base, guiding it into her mouth, hissing as she takes my length, her tongue lapping along my shaft. I let her take me in for a few moments just to enjoy that heady sensation of being between her lips before I start thrusting faster and harder. With each deep inhale, she takes me deeper still, eliciting moans from both our mouths as the pleasure builds.
“Do you…” I stop myself from continuing, staring down at her, her eyes teary from my cock hitting the back of her throat. I wanted to ask her if she wanted more or could handle more, but that’s not how it works between us. That’s not how our dynamic soars. I take. She takes. I give. She gives. That’s how we do it. That’s how we used to do it and how we’ll do it from today onward.
“Suck my dick like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do,” I growl, then grab a fistful of her hair, pulling her head to the side so I can get a better view of her crying tears of desire while swallowing my cock.
“You like that, don’t you, Hummingbird?” I say, knowing fully well she can’t answer me with my dick stuffed in her mouth. “You like tasting me on your tongue, sucking me, hoping I’ll come down your throat.”
Her head bobs up and down with each thrust while sucking me even deeper into her mouth, and it feels so damn good. I’m seconds away from coming when I pull out, grabbing her shoulders, lifting her onto her knees and slamming my mouth against hers, kissing her so fucking hard, letting my tongue duel with hers, wanting to steal her taste and make it mine.
I palm her tit, squeezing, rolling the perfect swell of soft flesh in my palm before pinching her nipple hard, causing her to yelp.
I pull away slightly, my breaths heavy and thick with want. “You know what I’m gonna do now?” I whisper against her lips. She makes a sound of anticipation as she eyes me, waiting for me to continue but wanting more all at the same time. The look on her face tells me this is where our story continues. No more hesitation. No more guilt. Just raw, undiluted passion.
“Turn around,” I order, grabbing her waist and forcing her to do as I say.
“I need you, Nicoli,” she begs as she steadies herself on all fours, swaying her ass in front of me, her blonde locks spread over her back and shoulders.
I’m trying to ease the ache in my cock when I wrap my fingers around it, giving it a few good strokes as I set my eyes on Mira’s blooming pussy. Swollen. Wet. Ready. Her arousal is already coating her inner thighs. So I drag a single digit up her thigh, coating it in her wetness, sliding it through her parted slit to her puckered hole. She instantly starts to shake as I tease and massage her tight ring, spreading her arousal.
“Ahh, Nicoli.” Her legs tremble as I stroke her there, playing with the delicate entrance before sliding my thumb into it ever so slowly.
I get on my knees, inching closer, placing a palm on her back and guiding her down so her shoulders meet the mattress, and her ass lifts higher up, giving me more of her pussy to look at.
“God, you’re beautiful,” I remark, sucking on my bottom lip as I take her in. “There is no better sight than your pussy when it’s dripping for me.”
The way her moans intensify, how her hips sway, and her breathing accelerates tells me she’s consumed with lust, just like I am.
I start to stroke my dick again as I push my thumb into her ass, and at the same time, I slide my middle finger into her warm cunt.
“Oh, my God, yes,” she breathes heavily as I finger fuck both her holes. She’s so fucking wet, there’s zero resistance, my palm coated in her juices.
Her pussy walls clamp down around my finger. She wants to come, but I tear my fingers out of her body, leaving her empty and desperate.
“No way we’re wasting a perfect orgasm on my finger, Hummingbird.” I shift closer and drag the head of my cock up and down her drenched slit, leaving her gasping as my tip enters her tense body. “Not when my dick is ready to give you a much better one.” With a single, hard thrust, I push into her, hitting her as deep as fucking possible, then keep it there, our hips touching lightly, and my balls are pressed against the soft skin of her ass cheeks. “Tell me how it feels,” I say, rubbing my palm around her waist.
“Good,” she whimpers, and her inner muscles contract tightly around me as she moans in pleasure and throws her head back. “So…fucking…good.”
“If you come before I tell you to, there will be hell to pay,” I warn, slipping my thumb back into her hole as I drive my cock into her, our bodies slapping together, the sound of our moans fuelling me to fuck her harder, faster.
“God, I missed this, Hummingbird.” I’m breathless, sweat clinging to my brows as perspiration pools behind my neck. But I don’t want to stop. I don’t ever want to stop. Being inside her is the best fucking high of my life. There is no drug that compares to the ecstasy I find deep inside her perfect cunt.
Mira starts to pant wildly as I continue to thrust, and her inner walls quiver and clench around me. “Please,” she breathes between moans, pushing her hips out even farther, her body taking my cock deeper as her fingers grasp the silk sheets, bunching it in her palms. “I have to come.”
“Not yet, baby girl.” My voice is gruff, and I feel my cock swell even more as it continues to push inside of her. “I want you to fight it until you can’t anymore, until it breaks your goddamn mind trying to stop the pleasure I’m fucking into you.”
“My mind is already fucking breaking. Nicoli, if I don’t come now—”
I can feel her tight walls gripping my dick so hard that it takes everything in me not to come right then and there. “Jesus,” I groan, pulling my thumb out of her asshole so I can sink my fingers into her waist as I start to fuck her with savaged thrusts, my balls tightening, every muscle in my body pulled taut as I bite into my lower lip, desperate growls tearing up my throat.
I snake an arm around her hip. “Come for me, baby girl,” I demand, and I barely touch her sensitive clit when she cries out.
“Oh, God!” Her screams reverberate around the room, crashing against my spine as her orgasm grips her, her pussy pulsing around my throbbing shaft.
Mira’s inner walls clench and release, milking me as I feel myself explode inside her. My cock tightens, and my hips buck uncontrollably against hers as wave after wave of pleasure rocks through me.
We both collapse onto the bed in a tangled heap of sated limbs, our heavy panting echoing off the walls around us until it fades away into blissful silence.
It feels like forever since I felt this satiated, and judging by the sound of her labored breaths and the pink tint on her cheeks, she feels the same.
As I look at her next to me, her blonde hair fanned out across the pillow, her full lips parted in pleasure, I am struck by the overwhelming love I feel for this woman. She is my everything – my strength, my solace, my reason for being. And I will do whatever it takes to protect her, to ensure her happiness and safety, even if it means embracing the darkest parts of myself.
Lying here, our bodies pressed together, the softness of Mira’s skin against mine, I realize that at this moment, we have found solace in each other’s arms. The weight of our desire for revenge is momentarily lifted, replaced by a deep sense of connection and belonging.
“Nicoli,” Mira whispers, her breath warm on my neck, “I love you.”
“I love you, too, Hummingbird.” I stroke her hair. “More than you know.”
