Dangerous Illusion [18+]

21: Twisted

"Breathe, my love." Not even his deep voice could calm my racing heart. Ares rushed to my side and soothed me with slow caresses. The exhaustion, the bruises on his body, the weariness on his face, the haunted look in his eyes wasn't because he thought I was cheating on him. No, it was something much darker.

I killed them.

I suddenly found myself drained of blood in my veins. The evidence of his devastation was on his face. How could I not know it earlier? A cold chill spread across my body and if it weren't for his warm hands on my body, I'd be totally numb.

The thought of Ares of all people capable of killing someone was a hard pill to swallow.

"You look pale, Luna. Sit down." He pushed me down on one of the chairs. His tone was clipped, irritated. I realised I wasn't doing him any favours by being so timid after demanding answers.

"Who was it?" I found myself asking.

His arched eyebrow was my only answer. I suppose it wasn't important. Whoever it was had to do something to drive him to the edge of madness. But then again, I never knew Ares was ever capable of losing his mind. I felt ashamed of myself when I realised, I was making excuses for the man who confessed to murder. Murders.

"In Russia?" I asked. The thought of being an international criminal was bone-chilling.

"Among other places, yes." I felt like I was going to be sick.

He was dead serious. There was no trace of the warm person I knew underneath.

"Are you going to be in trouble?"

He snorted a harsh laugh. "I'm a killer, Luna and you're asking me if I'm in trouble. Of course, I am."

I swallowed in response. My thoughts were spiraling out of control. The mere idea of him being incarcerated sent waves of panic through me. Yet, it also prompted me to question his motives behind such an act. I was aware that he was no saint, even though the specifics of his occupation remained a mystery to me. Gradually, the pieces of the puzzle started falling into place in my mind. He wasn't destined for prison. His was too intelligence, his demeanor in the face of the situation too composed. Yes, he was perturbed by the crime, but he wasn't freaking out like a normal person. His calmness hinted at a danger far greater than I had initially perceived.

The realisation was like another epiphany for me.

His gaze was fixed on me, scrutinizing my reaction to the shocking revelation. He was observing, studying how I was absorbing the horrifying truth.

"You're connected with the underworld. The mafia," I found myself uttering. The pieces of the puzzle - the guns, the heightened security - they all fell into place.

His penetrating stare sent a shiver down my spine.

With a low, menacing growl, he confessed, "Amore mio, I am the mafia boss."

***

"Fuck." I moaned when the stroke of Ares's skillfull tongue assaulted the tender flesh of my sex. My back arched off the couch like it was on fire. My legs were supported on his shoulders, too weakened by the relentless pleasure. My eyes closed and I fought the climax threatening to shred me apart.

"Oh Ares." I couldn't stop it. He was thrusting his tongue into my quivering opening. I was too raw from the first two orgasms. He didn't stop pushing me past my limits. His hunger for me had only been amplified by the days of separation. I gasped when my third orgasm of the day hit me from deep withing my core. My limp body fell sideways on the couch. Ares wiped his mouth, wet from my orgasm, on my thigh and rose up. He was bare chested, glistening with a mist of sweat. With no rush, he pulled me towards him and laid us sideways on the tiny couch, spooning me from behind. Gentle lips pressed kisses on my shoulder and neck.