The two other doves joined in, all using their beaks and feet to slice and peck open skin, spilling the wolf's ruby liquid onto the forest floor repeatedly; they kept going like savage beasts, overtaken by their thirst for blood.
Once it was over, the wolf slumped onto the forest floor and took a weary, meaningless breath before closing its eyes and falling into a forever slumber in front of its assailants.
That's when those devilish birds turned my way. The marks on my body flared to life, reminding me of our connection. Their soft, fluffy feathers were caked in blood, their beaks dripping crimson drops, and I swear I saw them smiling.
Cracking open my eyes,I flinched as I realized I was face to face with a sleeping Ion. Struck dumb by his angelic beauty, I clutched at my rapid beating chest. Sleeping next to him was not good for my heart.
I was about to turn around, feeling a second body behind me when I caught the smell of something earthy and smoky in the room. Is something burning?
Sitting up, I saw a faint orange-red flicker coming from the chair across the bed like a calling sign. Curiosity took over, and I glanced down at both Ion and Cezar’s sleeping faces, feeling braver with them at my side. Making sure I didn't wake them, I scooted inch by inch to the end of the bed, keeping my eye in the general direction of where the flame came from.
Taking a deep breath before I stood up and walked over to the figure of a man sitting in the chair, still shrouded in darkness. There was only one man I could think of who would sit there watching over me and his brothers, and it was the man I felt the most indebted to.
He took a deep drag, lighting up his face for only a second, and I gasped, falling to my knees. With shaky hands, I fumbled around, fingers hovering over his face and body until his hard, sure ones gripped them tight. “I’ve had worse.”
Taking another drag of his cigar, I saw clearly how swollen one of his eyes had gotten, so big that his eye was almost half closed. The other side was black and blue with a bleeding cut above his eyebrow and his lip busted. Deep crimson strands wound down his neck, disappearing underneath his black shirt.
“I'm sorry,” I choked down a sob. Even if I knew logically this was not my fault; that all the fault lay at the feet of that horrible man, my heart couldn't catch up.
Letting that guilt push me forward, making me bold, I grabbed the first aid kit Cezar got for me. There were a couple of minor cuts on my knees from when his father threw me to the ground, and he bandaged them up because he couldn't stand the sight of me bleeding.
Turning on a small dim lamp in the corner of the room, I tiptoed back over to him, biting the inside of my mouth to keep myself from gasping. I tried to smile, but I was sure it came off as a grimace.
He didn't say anything as he took another drag from his cigar, his dark, bloodshot eyes meeting mine, watching me approach him like a wounded predator caught in the corner. Tired, weary, on edge, ready to strike at any moment.
Making sure he always saw my hands, I set down the kit on the dresser next to him, opened it up, and started cleaning his wounds. Pulling the hydrogen peroxide, I whispered, “This might hurt.” He puffed out a chuckle, wincing right after, and I knew he had more injuries than I could heal.Do the ones that you can. You owe it to him.
It was intimidating having his eyes on me the whole time as I cleaned each of the wounds and patched him up as best as I could. I’d taken a few courses on minor medical emergencies, but this was beyond my knowledge. His hand shook as he took his next drag; the hand on his knee furiously tapped against his thigh. He still had yet to say a word to me, but everything told me that he was hanging on by a thread.
How could I help? What more could I possibly do?
Once I was done packing up the kit, his finger reached up toward my neck, and I flinched back on instinct. Pain and disappointment flashed in his eyes before he looked down at the floor, staring at it like he could put a hole through it. His shoulders were bunched up, his hands fisted, and the energy around him felt frenzied and wild, even as he stayed still. He needed to relax, find something else to ground himself, to remind himself that he was in control.
The dim light played peekaboo with the shadows of his face, all those darks and highlights on display, reminding me of some charcoal drawing that would be called something like ‘On the Edge’. A piece of hair fell into his face, and my fingers moved before I told them not to, causing them to comb it back into place for him.
He stood up, his hand snatched mine, fingers coiling around my wrist like a boa constrictor. His dark pools peered down at me, and I fell into them, finding those dark eyes swirling with more emotions than he'd ever let slip. There was a crack in the cold-hearted, ruthless mask he’d always worn, breaking apart bit by bit, spilling out all his unwanted feelings that he desperately tried to keep inside.
Running on instinct only, I kept my eyes on him as I slowly lowered to my knees. His void-like eyes shifted, and a flicker of emotions filed them, warring with all his others. Desire, hunger, lust.
Keeping my movements slow and deliberate, his whole being watching me like a hawk. Raising my hands, I unbuttoned and unzipped him. Taking his velvety hard shaft in my hand, a raspy, needy voice slipped from my lips as I looked at him through my lashes. “Take back control, Nicu. Use me and take it all back.”
His eyes flew open, and his breathing kicked up a notch, but that didn't stop me. Like I said, I was running off instinct and the need to make this right, to let him know I could care for him like he cared for me.
Running my fingers along his thick, strong hand, I carefully grabbed it, placing it on the back of my head before I rubbed the head of his hard cock along the seam of my lips. His hand fisted in my hair, pulling on the roots tightly, and I swiped my tongue along the head of his silky cock.
“Are you sure, princess? Are you sure you can handle me?” His husky, deep voice caused shivers to run down my body. I wanted to be bathed in that voice. It was like whiskey-covered smoke that had the strength of iron—telling me that I would be okay. That I could trusted this man.
Nodding up and down, he coolly said, “Words.” His voice went deeper, his hand yanking my head back so I was completely focused on him. “When I ask you something, you will respond with words, princess.”
“Yes,” I breathed out. My eyes flicked to his cock in front of my face, growing harder by the second, and I licked my lips, the anticipation was killing me. “Yes. I can handle you.
His lips curled and something devilish passed over his face. “Let’s see,” was all the warning I had before he tilted my head down and shoved his hard thick length past my lips, burying himself so deep I gagged. Yanking me off just as fast, he chuckled as I caught my breath. The fingers on my head snagged more strands, getting a firmer grip, making my scalp sting. “I’m going to fuck this mouth hard, fast, and deep,” heat unfurled in my belly. He bent over, getting right in my face as he rasped, “take two of your fingers and fuck yourself. Now.”
Every word he spoke a command, one not to be questioned and followed immediately, so I nodded and did just that. Lifting up the bottom of the mens dress shirt I was wearing, I shoved my fingers underneath my panties, following that wet path to my center, and sunk them in deep. A moan slipped from my lips and he growled out, “Take them out and rub your clit, then do it again.” I did as he told me too, working myself as he stared down at me with those dark pools of controlled desire.
His tongue swiped along his lips, eyes tracking every quiver and sound I made. The more he watched, the more worked up I got. Looking up at him with half-lidded eyes, I salivated for his next command.
“Open your mouth.” I did as I was told. “Stick your tongue out.” When I stuck it out, he shoved his thumb into my mouth, pressing down on my tongue, opening my jaw wider. “I’m going to fit this whole cock in your mouth and down your throat, stretching your lips so wide you’ll tear up. This is your last warning.” A part of me wanted to help him regain his control, to show him my gratitude, but another, more filthy part of me enjoyed this freedom all too much and shivered in anticipation. I wanted this more than he knew.
