Come Back To Me: Mafia Romance (18+ Only)

Chapter 53

"I Am Not A Prostitute" hit 10 MiLliON yurd YURDDDDDD! Thank you guys so much, there is no way I could have EVER gotten this far without every single one of you. You guys are the best!!!!

***

"Damn you look like a sexy Willy Wonka." I grinned, sprawling my body on the bed, tucking my hands behind my head, and propping myself against the headboard.

Sinister had just gotten home from getting stitches, his once-swollen face was now dark with bruises, his thumb wrapped in gauze, his stitches hidden with a black sweatshirt.

His icy eyes were dim with complete exhaustion, his beautiful face bruised and broken with beatings.

He frowned as he looked at me, his gaze drifting down to my sweatshirt. It was white, with

DISABLED PENCIL SHARPENER

Written on the front.

He glared at me tiredly, opening his mouth to say something.

I held up my hands, "wait wait wait!!" I turned around to reveal the back

FLAPJACK TITTIES

Both phrases written in thick black sharpie, my grin was massive as I smiled up at him proudly.

"Someone needs to take your sharpie." He mused, raking his ringed fingers through his hair. His bruised jaw was still chiseled, his icy eyes full of amusement as he glanced down at me. He had this lazy look about him, that made my heart melt.

"Look I'm a burrito." I smiled, rolling myself up into a blanket and poking my head out, sticking my tongue out at him.

"That's very cute." He said lowly, resting his head in his bruised hands, his eyes glittering down at me as he watched me intently.

I paused, pulling the fuzzy blankets over my head, "Does you not being dead, mean I'm no longer the mob boss?"

"I'm afraid so, flower."

"Well, can you at least buy me a shark? Or a tiger?" I pouted.

He smiled softly, "I'll see what I can do, love."

I blinked, before scootching my way towards him, until I was so close that I could smell the pepermint on his breath, his eyes followed my small body until I curled myself into the heat of his body.

He smiled, wrapping his muscular arms around me, his thumb brushing my ink black locks, his chest rose and fell in sync with mine. He propped himself up above me, his elbows prodded next to me, his iced eyes looking down on me.

And then he's kissing me, and I swear it's like the first time he's ever kissed me. His lips are soft and sweet and urgent and kind. His jaw is strong in my hand as I hold his face, my fingers trailing his skin as my mouth opens up to his.

His kiss deepens into this urgency, like he can't afford to take his time anymore like there's so much he wants to feel and there aren't enough years to experience it all. His muscular arms pull me to him, holding me tight and close to him. His hands travel the length of my back, and encircle my waist. He kisses my neck, my throat, my cheeks, my nose, and my lips.

I rake my hands through his hair, gripping him, holding him close to me as if he was a bird I had caught, and feared it would fly away.

He has a hundred, thousand kisses. And he's giving them all to me.

I would burn the world down if it meant never leaving him. I'd endure all the pain and cruelty the world had to throw at me, if it meant keeping him with me. I'd spend the rest of my life alone, if it meant having these moments with him.

He pulled off my vandalized hoodie, kissing my bare chest, holding my body in his arms as his mouth kissed and memorized every inch of my being. He made me see fireworks, my entire world was literally burning with this wild passion called love.

Sex is honestly, a simple, purely physical act. It's so simple that even animals do it. But making love? That's completely different. It's the ability to be close, and closer. It's a way to be connected on every level. To love and be loved and feel the pure ecstasy of having someone you're hopelessly, psychotically in love with.

And that's exactly what we did. We didn't fuck. We made love.

***

"We should do that more often." He mused, his face pulling into a small smile as he laid next to me. His hand holding mine, his thumb trailing the skin of my fingers.

"We should, but you and your lucky fin are injured." I huffed, kissing the bare skin on his arm.

"Did you just quote Finding Nemo?"

"You're getting better with these Disney references."

He chuckled, "It's hard not to, considering you make about 30 of them a day." His hot lips pressed a searing kiss to my temple.

"You know me so well." I mused, huddling my bare body closer to his, pulling the covers tighter around us.

"I love you." He murmured into my skin, his non-injured thumb brushed over my wedding ring.

"That's cool."

He tensed, "You did not just do me like that."

I gazed up at him, "I did, and I'm sorry cutie. I love you too. How's that?"

His body rumbled with a deep laugh as he hugged me tighter to him, his lips attacking my face with kisses as I squealed.

We stayed quite for awhile, and I know I reflect on my past a lot. But I needed to. I needed to remind myself of who I was, and who I am. Sinister might have turned my life upside down, but I'm glad he did. He saved me. He cared for me, loved me, and showed me all that I could be.

He cared for me like no one else had. He understood me like we had grown up together. He got my jokes, he could calm me down or rile me up. He could make me feel millions of emotions in only a moment. I would never grow tired of him, or get bored. He made every day an adventure, filled with vulnerability and beauty. I knew I loved him when he saw me as so much more than the scared little girl I had always thought of myself as. I knew I loved him when he gave me the world and asked for nothing in return. I knew I loved him, when he saved me. And not those times where I had gotten kidnapped, but saved me from my useless life, and placed me into a chaotic, terrifying, beautiful life, filled with so many people I love....

I knew I loved him, when Home became a person and not a place. And he was my Home, he was my world, he was my friend, and he was my husband.

"Sinister?" I said quietly, holding his hand.

"Hmm?"

"I'm so lucky I fell in love with my best friend."

****

YOOO, I love you guys. You guys have no idea how much it means to be when I get dozens of messages from people, saying how happy my books have made them. Because quite honestly, the only reason I write is to bring joy, humor, emotion, and laughter.

I love you guys.

Alsooo, the reason I didn't write a sexy, porny, smutty chapter, is because it was such a beautiful moment they were having, I couldn't bring myself to defile it with:

"YEAH BABY HARDER FUCK ME LIKE A BULLDOZER OH YEAHHHHH"

or

"OH MY GOD BABE YOU'RE SO TIGHT LIKE A HAIR SCRUNCHY, O-OR A CONFINED SPACE, L-LIKE A BOX, YEAH BABY YOU'RE TIGHT LIKE A CARDBOARD BOX, UUHHHHHH I'M GONNA CUMMMMMM!!!!"

HEHEHE,

Xx

Aleksei