Page 121 of Sinner's Vows

“Keep going, sweetheart,” I murmur as I roll onto my back, reach for the condom, and in seconds have one rolled on. I pull her on top of me, urging her down on my cock. As much as I would like to plunder into her body, she isn’t ready for that yet, and like this, she’s always in control.

“Dominic—” She gasps as she inches down on me, that perfect pussy stretching and gripping me so tight, it won’t take much. Between everything else we worked on today, images of her, just like this, invaded my mind literally every fucking minute. I’m a man thirsting for this woman, and as I help her roll her hips, we find a rhythm that will make her come again and drive me there, too.

A sheen of sweat sparkles on her skin, and she leans in, gripping my shoulders. “You’re so much,” she whispers.

“Not too much?”

“No, perfect much.” She closes her eyes as she drops her head back, and it arches her back at just that angle to squeeze me even tighter.

“Sweetheart—”

“I’m going to come?—”

“Fuck, Ariana—sweetheart—” My heart is pounding, and I’m out of breath as her pussy spasms in orgasm. My balls throb, and then everything in me tightens. There’s no stopping me now. I explode into her body, my cum rippling up and riding the wave of her release. Fuck. It’s beautiful.

For a moment, we’re still, focused on the intense sensations at our core, where we’re connected, and with a feral grunt, I feel the last of my load shooting into her.

I go limp as she drops to my chest with a giggle, and I gather her in my arms, smiling as I kiss my way to her lips. We kiss for a long moment, light and easy between bursts of teasing little laughs that only make me want to pull her even closer.

“I don’t want to be anywhere else but here,” she murmurs as I caress my hands down her back and circle her butt.

“Me neither,” I whisper back between kisses. “We wrap up business, sweetheart, and don’t look back.”

“Yes.”

I ease her off and make quick work of the condom, only wanting her back in my arms. She nestles into me, her head on my shoulder, an arm on my chest, and I cover her hand with mine. It’s only when she slides a fingertip over my crooked pinkie that I become aware of it again, and I stiffen slightly, before exhaling a deep breath.

“Have I earned this one yet?” she whispers into the dark as her fingers weave with mine, her lips traveling up my neck as she presses sweet, enquiring kisses to my jaw.

“It isn’t a good bedtime story, sweetheart.” I whisper against her forehead, my lips caressing her hairline.

“Neither are any of the real Grimm brothers’ stories…but they have happy endings.”

“Mostly,” I chuckle. I take a deep breath, bracing myself. Maybe this will give her too much, but with her, I want to give everything. “There once lived a Mafia Don who fathered six sons with a wife he was forced to marry. When the mother died in childbirth, the Don was free to rule his tribe as he saw fit and did so with ever-increasing violence towards his own sons.

“But boys grow into men, and soon, the Don realized he’d underestimated his sons, in brains and brawn. He feared arebellion in their ranks, amongst his eldest sons, who had grown tired of his brutality which they’d suffered from an early age. The three eldest in particular were protective of the younger ones, and when the Don saw the influence his second-oldest son wielded over the tribe, he conspired to have him eliminated as he rightfully started to fear for his own life.

“He put a scheme in place to put his sons in danger and sent the two eldest out, with the express instructions to wound and maim the one and kill the other. The first son was shot twice, the second died. The third was at home, dreading the news because, in his gut, he sensed something was off…something had gone wrong.

“When they came home, one son dead, another hanging by a thread to life, the father called in the third son. He made him promise loyalty and vengeance for his older brothers, but forced him to swear an oath of allegiance to him, the Don, and him alone.

“When the younger son refused, too traumatized with the loss of a much-loved brother and the older one’s life in the balance, he saw through the machinations of the Don, and refused. The Don had him strapped to a chair and chopped his finger off, telling him he’d do so with their younger brothers unless he toed the line. From that day on, the third brother toed the line, keeping all this knowledge to himself, but secretly building his own empire to protect his brothers.”

Her hand has curled into a fist on my chest, and I exhale softly as I hug her close. She’s crying softly again, only the wet heat of tears on my skin and the slight quiver of her shoulder whispering her distress.

“They saved it, though?” she murmurs in question.

“Yes. To stop the others from asking questions. It was, of course, a simple kitchen accident.”

I exhale slowly, the weight of my secret seeping out of me, into the mattress to the floor and beyond, like a puddle of stale water that’s finally found a funnel to escape to and drain away.

“How broken are we?” Ariana whispers in the dark.

“Pretty broken, sweetheart,” I murmur. “But somehow, when I hold you like this, to this broken part of me with its sharp edges, I find you’re the perfect matching broken piece that makes me whole again.”

She tugs my hand closer and presses a warm, gentle kiss to each of my fingers, her lips slow to pull away from the last, little one. “So you see…there’s a happy ending, after all.”

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