Diana
I step out of the bathroom drying my hair feeling the lecherous gaze on my ass, my mind confused by the conversation glowing like a motel sign, the declaration along with her jealousy and then the acceptance of two small parts that live outside of me.
I collapsed helplessly, trapped between his arms without a word, he just understands and this is way more than I can handle, way more than I'm willing to admit to my guilty conscience.
Seeing a shirt of his going straight to the kitchen, getting the eggs from the fridge and starting to prepare something to eat, it was almost seven hours thinking that he had died in that explosion, the changes in plans and despair reverberating in my crazy mind.
When the coroner finally claimed to be a woman and a man in their twenties, I felt my heart beating calm, cold, cruel and calculating again, just for the certainty that that man would be alive, a single piece of news capable of minimizing the death of two other people.
While, Gia tried to comfort me all the time, repeating the words calmly asking for patience to wait for Jack to find the two, looking to be an anchor in the middle of the storm that I was devastated, even so, only the fury beat in a frantic rhythm mixing the memories short time for which we are already together.
The hours dragged by in agonizing slowness, crushing every well-built barrier to prevent this kind of emotion from some man shattering convictions formed so long ago, all in disproportionate and inexplicable affliction, so little time and yet so mine.
All that was going through my head were the bright blue eyes with her hair so soft falling over her shoulder the tattoo looking like a grotesque extension of the heavily traced strands making it a unique work of art.
Discovering that after so many years that there was still something beating inside his chest was like opening a grenade knowing that the explosion would destroy everything. In that bar, seeing the predatory gaze, I already knew the danger he represented, the ferocious animal looking for a fight worthy, one of which I felt the challenge to provide, I tried in vain to believe that it was dangerous for my plans, to undo the constant desire.
I was completely wrong, Dragon is a ball of destruction ravaging all walls firmly built to protect something I thought I'd lost long ago, a part of me I didn't imagine needing, wanting or wanting, taking over a forgotten space and appropriating the most deep greedy miseries of my soul in desiring to have him and keep him only for pleasure.
I don't stop moving between the coffee maker and the stove, even though I feel his gaze burning my skin, his scent manages to activate primitive things, exposes lost details worse than that, shows the true face of which I've always tried to keep hidden from the light. Maybe that's it, this Neanderthal man he hides under his jacket has full power over the monster that lives under this skin I inhabit, a power unmatched. When I was completely exposed to his mercy in that room with his questions analyzing each of the scars exposed and hidden by time, I felt no fear.
And even if he had made another decision, he would still die peacefully looking into eyes as blue as the ones that chained me and at the same time so sincere that they entered my mind, pushing all nightmares away.
I turn off the heat by serving the eggs on a plate and placing it on the counter along with the coffee, I take the milk pouring myself on a piece of toast watching him eat in silence, the feeling of possession reverberating throughout my body.
From the dripping hair, to the face that is so bruised, down to his naked torso, the arousal automatically under my skin.
I admire the man uninhibited to express his feelings, determined to have in his life a complicated woman accepting all my problems. He doesn't flinch a single word apart from the devotion with which those boys go crazy to meet him and Tip, as if he were their father.
The truth is that, looking back, the club is a big family, like every good family has its flaws.
Fierce eyes focus on my bare legs climbing up my body to my face with explicit adoration.
“You had something to tell me. - Speaks low in a firm tone.
Finishing eating, adjusting his posture on the stool placing his elbows on the marble countertop, fixing all his attention.
— In the explosion, three people died, a regular at the bar, the recruit Jamie and Lucy — Not even if I wanted to I would disguise the voice with the bitch's rancor.
"Did Lucy die or did you kill her?" - I look at the serious expression.
“Another reason to torture Vincenzo, through his fault, is that her death is not in my hands.
I turn bitch towards the sink putting the dishes in, disgusted with the possibility of him caring so much about that cow, he just said he loves me and is worried if I killed her or not.
I feel the anger boiling, I wish I had ripped every fingernail off her just for pleasure.
“Too bad, the dog was hot. - I lose all composure pulling a knife out of the drawer. - A good pussy. - Her voice is sickeningly.
All I see is red, one moment picking up the knife and the next with the point stuck in his chin.
— If you're thinking I'm going to be one of your bitches, go fuck yourself! - I feel the strong breath inflating the nose
He keeps his cool as if he doesn't have a huge knife against him.
'Is all this jealousy?' – Cynical question.
- You are mine. – I say affirming the screaming possessiveness inside my chest.
Lowering his chin, the knife penetrates his skin, making a few drops of blood run down his beard, falling on my fingers, in a silent dispute.
His hand grips my wrist tightly, in a quick movement coming out from behind the counter and grabbing my legs, he makes sure to keep the knife against his chin, I get caught in the bright blue eyes mixed with the fierce face.
He threw himself on the bed with me under the heavy body, squeezing my wrist harder so that the knife fell to the side of the bed, taking its place between my legs forcing him to move farther apart to make room for his broad hips.
His tongue runs along my chin, I roll my eyes with pleasure.
"Whose are you, Diana?" - Question.
I roll under her body, feeling her pull the fabric away from her pants, leaving the hard length inches from my pussy.
Taking my lips with fury and possessiveness, I gasp against his mouth as he buries himself deep in one movement.
- It's me?
Voice low against my mouth, I arch my chest for more contact against his body, wanting to pull the shirt out of the way, digging my hand through the damp strands wanting his undivided attention.
- You are mine. - I say attacking your mouth.
Our bodies synchronizing in a furious dance, desire filling every body replacing anger and jealousy.
“And I am yours. - He inflates his chest releasing everything that held him.