Touch in the Dark

Touch in the Dark

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[POV: Venezia Casadei] "You really are something, huh," Auden said strolling over to me, a dangerous glint in his eye. The look on his face was one of hunger. I'd seen it before on the bloodthirsty faces of Made Men just before they'd shot someone in the head. It was the gaze of a man who was overcome with his sense of power. Of control. Of a man who knew he would get the answer he was looking for even if he had to tear you apart to get it. "That something is Don Niccolò's daughter," I quipped back, challenging him to say something further. He thought I'd be afraid of the focus he pinned on me, but even if I couldn't shoot a man in the head, I'd grown up seeing that same bloodthirsty focus in my father's eyes; in the eyes of the mafioso around me. I looked up and noticed that the top of my head only reached his chin. From that angle, his chiseled jawline was all I can focus on. Geez, how long did God spend crafting this one? He smirked at my lack of fear. "Of course, princess. Who can forget? The Don's only daughter." He twirled a strand of my hair around his finger. "So pure her heart is almost as white as snow." It trailed a path down the side of my neck. "Almost." His hand shifted to collar my throat. My lips parted when he lightly squeezed. I felt the pulse in my neck beat hard against his hand and my pvssy clenched at the thought of him fvcking me this way. I imagined his calloused hand wrapped around my throat and his chocolate-brown eyes watching me take his c0ck as he pushed into me. "So pure that her pvssy is still tight from never knowing a man," he whispered the words into my ear and I felt my legs nearly give out. I could cvm from his filthy words alone. But I'd never let him know that. I was too proud to admit such a thing. "You think I don't hear you, but I do. So I'll ask you one more time, Songbird. When you fvck yourself with your fingers, whose name do you m0an out?" // Recommended for those 18 YEARS AND OLDER.
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"𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫." [Slow update] They say love feels like sunlight after winter. But no one warns you - sometimes, it burns. Sometimes, it scars. I never asked for obsession, for manipulation, or for love that feels like poison. He came like wildfire - raw, relentless, unapologetic. My first. My beautiful mistake. He was dangerous in the most beautiful way. Gentle with me, brutal with the world. Every moment with him was comfort laced with chaos. His love? Honey laced with venom - sweet, addicting, and lethal. He didn't cross lines. He erased them. In his madness, I mistook devotion. In cruelty, I saw protection. How do you run from someone who'd bleed to keep you breathing? He saw the cracks no one else noticed. Whispered promises in the dark. And a part of me clung to them. In his arms, the world ceased to exist. But the next storm didn't come with fire. It came in silence. He arrived like a shadow - watching, waiting, suffocating. He didn't touch me - not yet. But I felt him, like smoke in my lungs. He studied me. Then he moved. And when he did, everything changed. He didn't want to love me. He wanted to rewrite me. His silence screamed louder than words. He wanted me to destroy myself for him. Now, I'm torn between two kinds of insanity: One who would ruin the world to protect me. Another who would ruin me to make me his world. And I can't tell the difference anymore. They circle me like wolves, each calling it love. But love was never meant to feel like this. Was it? I used to believe love was a gift. Now I know - it's a gamble. A bloody one. And in this game of obsession and betrayal, I'm no longer sure who the real villain is. Because when both players would kill you for love... What does that make you?

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