Page 12 of Vendetta

I’m not a perfectly sculpted mass of muscle and lithe limbs. I’m fleshy. Curvy. Voluptuous.

Old me used to like my body. Used to like the way I stood out but ever since my attack I’ve kept myself hidden. Concealed. It’s not that I’m ashamed of how I look, it’s that my body caused this, caused those men to do what they did and now my face bears the repercussions.

I sigh walking into the shower and turn it on. The water pours down and the pressure makes it feel like I’m in a monsoon. It’s incredible. I let out a laugh, turning up the heat, revelling in the feel of it against my skin.

I feel alive. I feel awake.

And then I think of Nico. Of what his hands did to me. How his fingers felt inside me.

He wasn’t holding back. He didn’t seem to care what my face is like, hell he said as much. But the way he reacted, the way he was touching me, grabbing me, needing me. Am I being naïve to think it was real? Am I getting lost in some fantasy world to think that this might be what my life is from now on? By this man’s side? His woman?

I shake my head at the absurdity. Nico could have any woman he wanted. Any woman at all. So why would he chose me? And yet he had. He did. I was in his bed, with his fingers as far in my pussy as he could shove them.

I groan again. Between my thighs is an ache I can’t get rid of. I haven’t felt turned on, aroused, felt anything in truth in two years. Sex isn’t a thing for me. It doesn’t do anything. I just don’t have those feelings. Not anymore.

And yet less than an hour ago I was so turned on I would have willingly choked to death on Nico’s cock and I would have thanked him for it.

I don’t even know who I am right now. Who I’ve become. In the space of twenty four hours my life has gone from one of existing, to something else entirely.

As my pussy throbs I move my hand to touch myself. Hell, if Nico can make me actually feel something then maybe I can finish this. Maybe I can actually cum again.

I’m still wet and I know it’s not from the water coming over head. The consistency is wrong. The way it sticks to my lips is wrong too. I move my legs wider apart, leaning back against the tiles. I’m aroused. I’m needy. I want to feel this. I want to cum.

I rock my hips, my fingers aren’t even inside me yet because I’m still lost imagining how full I felt with Nico’s in me. And then as I think again of how he plunged them into me the first time I do it, I penetrate myself.

Fuck it feels so good. I throw my head back. I let out a moan and wonder if anyone can hear me.

My fingers aren’t as long as Nico’s but I remember how I used to touch myself. How I used to make myself cum. I start pumping away. Working up the pressure. My breasts are heaving as my heartrate steadily increases and I imagine Nico is here, watching me because for some reason that notion turns me on. A lot.

I run my other hand up my body, pinching, squeezing my nipple, hurting the one he bit because I want to feel the pain again. I want his teeth on me. I want his mouth claiming me.

My legs start shaking and I realise I’m there, I’m about to cum. I blink back the tears but they’re already falling and, as my euphoria takes over, I start screaming a sound of pleasure as well as relief. Joy as well as fear.

My body jerks, my fingers move haphazardly because I’m not ready to let my orgasm go. I can feel my cum dripping down my legs, mixing with the shower water.

He did this. He fixed me.

The words linger in my head more than they should. More than is sane.

And I lie back against the tiles panting, thinking of when Nico will come back, how hard it will be to resist him now and if I even want to.

Him

I’m sat across from Preston. He can tell from my face how pissed I am. The fact that he pulled me from her though tells me something. Blaine walks in and sits down, sliding a file across the table.

“The fuck is this?” I growl.

“Take a look.” Blaine says. “It’s the proof we’ve been looking for.”

I narrow my eyes, half snatching at the paper and open it. There’s dozens of photos. Dozens of scraps of paper too. All evidence of what’s really been going on behind my back.

“Where did you get this?” I ask.

“I had to get resourceful.” He smirks. Of course he did. Blaine is nothing if not resourceful. That’s why I hired him. Why he’s my head of security.

Preston watches me curiously and I slide the documents to him.

He takes his time examining each piece.

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