The mafia hunt.

25|Fucking Scorpion

Nova

25|Fucking scorpion

The moment I woke up, I knew.

I knew that I wasn't dreaming, there's no fucking way the things I felt, the way his fingertips lightly trailed down my arms goosebumps following their path. The way his lips felt in mine, they fit so perfectly. They way he whispered in my ear, his hair through my fingers, his soft breath...I fucking know that was real.
He was so gentle and he took his time. I took my time, I enjoyed how slow but passionate it was. I close my eyes, submerging myself in the memory.

I tilt my head back, letting out a breath. His lips nipped at my neck softly kissing my skin. My hands ran thorough his soft hair, tugging on it gently when he sucked on my neck for sure leaving a mark-

My eyes snap open. A mark! Oh my god! I fly off of my bed and practically run towards my mirror. I push back my hair and my mouth hangs open. My hand goes to my neck, my fingers tracing my skin lightly hovering over the red mark. Tears form in my eyes at the sight.

His hands gripped my hips as I straddled him, I pulled him closer to me needing to feel the warmth he provided. I needed to feel his skin against mine. I needed him. As I grinded my hips against him, he let out a harsh moan, his grip tightening on me.

I look down at my hips, the slight red tone to it you can almost make out the shape of his hands. I begin to shake my head, no. No. No. No. He wouldn't do this, he wouldn't make me think I was crazy. I step back away from the mirror, tears slowly falling down my cheeks. I'm so confused, is he alive? Is he dead?

I walk back out into my room, slipping on one of his jumpers that still smell like him. I bask in the scent, a scent that reminds me of something.

We both moan as I slide down him, his thick dick filling me completely. I begin to move, my arms wrapped around his neck and my head buried deep in his neck. When I breath in deeply, his familiar scent surrounds me and I close my eyes breathing it in. "You look so good on me, Angel."

I look towards the bed, the sheets crumpled up and pillows on the floor.

My nails dig into his shoulders, my moans getting louder and louder as I ride him. "You're so wet for me, baby." I tip my head back in pleasure. The praise making my stomach flip, I pull my hips closer to his wanting to make him feel good just to hear him tell me how good I am again.

He flips us over, his hand cupping my breast pinching my hardened nipple. My head lulls back my hands running down his back. When my hands go to his biceps I stop. Grayson seems to realise my attention is somewhere else. "Your tattoos." I whisper softly, staring at the scarred skin.

"Don't worry about it, Angel." He strokes my hair back, away from my face. Running his thumb over my lips that have formed a frown.

"But how d-

I cut myself off with a moan as he applies pressure towards my clit. I arch my back, the sheets ruffling underneath me. When he thrusts into me, our hips joining, his hair bunched in my hands and my nails scratching down his back. When he grunts and whispered words into my ears, I forget all about it.

I look away, refusing to believe he would be that cruel to me. Surely he wouldn't go months and months making me go crazy. Every time I closed my eyes all I would see was him, surely he wouldn't watch me cry to him and beg for him to stay with me.

I move away into the kitchen, filling the kettle with water and flipping the switch. I watch droplets of water fall from the tap and slowly into the sink. My tears match the tap, one small droplet slowly falling down my cheek and splashing onto the floor.