24

This hypnotic state of pleasurable penetration feels like pure sin in it's taboo form. The fresh scratches on his inked covered back are clear evidence. It was a task to breathe as I'm heavily panting, my eyes tiredly shut— my mouth gaped open.

His body against mine provoking further goosebumps, his groans bouncing off my cheek.

My entire body unraveled and easily submitting. His hand slipped under my thigh— raising my leg higher. The other reaching for the headboard above me going deeper from a different angle.

I know the lips on my core were sore by sensitivity, but the incredibly wet sounds coming from me made up for it.

"Reign, you're gonna tear me apart." I croaked out. My body aches in places he bruised from unhealthy sexually touching. Reign is absolute monster— a sexy, controlling monster. Here I am pathetically trembling under his touch as his thrust speed increased.

My head slowly slipping off the soft bed, I felt his warm release spread throughout my lower stomach. Our breathing caught in sync holding a dangerously intimate gaze.

As much as I can't help but think about just how quick a bullet can take a life, his trance is still tempting me. Yet there's a bubbling joy of watching Reign's life vanish from his eyes. After he physically disconnected from me to get off the bed, grabbing me by thighs pulling me to the edge.

His stance so masculine I'm drawn to crying. The constant reminder of his dominance over me and my body, I'm in shambles.

A tremble caught me my fear arises. It's clear I am hopelessly drawn to Reigns touch. I took a deep breath closing my eyes preparing myself when his hands tightened around my thighs.

"Open your eyes." I took a second before answering his demand. I screamed at the sudden thrust, my hand threw up to my mouth quivering.

"Motherfucker." I moaned biting my finger.

Right now, at this moment there's a larger crave of wanting him to fuck me like he hates me. I drank him in badly.

I arched off the bed at an upcoming feel of my release. Reign exuded so much power and confidence. This man is beyond ordinary, I couldn't deny the heavy admiration.

His cold tattooed hand against my pelvis carefully making it was up to grip my left breast gently tugging.

The sight of him intoxicates me.

Never losing eye contact, my throat cramped once his hand reached my neck. Forcing pressure blocking my will to breathe simply growing my lust for a harder fuck.

"Don't look so scared baby, you'll only excite me."

I sat up once he released me, a fire ignites so I quickly took my chance at teasingly backing away to the centre of the bed. I shyly observe his hungry eyes from under my lashes. I turn over on my knees exposing myself to him our juice's shown between my thighs.

If history is anything to learn from, being nice gets you no where, and the hurt isn't that far behind.

I swallowed my nervous feeling, "How about now?" I whispered glancing back over my shoulder.

I must take the little control I think I have over my life that is of course under his judgement. Reign was oozing possessiveness and the darkness followed.

A single slap on my ass stung making me flinch forward. The night was far from being over, and I'm prepared enough to take it.

• • •

Finally alone after the previous day of intensive rough sex. Reign left for business trip with his family. I got a glimpse of his mother, very beautiful lady. Rule number one, if they don't tell don't ask about it.

I day dreamed for a while, but only Reign clouded my visions— he is a sinful man who knows how to fold me into being anything he wants.

Isn't that something.

"I hate that you make me feel things I shouldn't, I'm not proud of my hea- ." My unintentional choice of words shocked me. There's no way I'm involving my heart. A organ that helps me breathe as I'm still under the control of a deadly man. A thought crushes the weight of my chest.

It's impossible right?

I find myself consumed in ways that should be forbidden. I fear that any misstep in his presence might displease him, and so I cry in front of a man who remains emotionally distant. How pathetic. How pointless.

My hands tremble constantly, desperate for something to ground me. I need a distraction, something to keep my mind from spiraling. I want to spread joy in the things I love, yet all I've felt lately is rage, sadness, and anxiety. It's time to make my world a little brighter, even if it's just in small ways.

I sit on the edge of the tub, carefully painting my toes a deep cherry red. The color exudes allure and mystery, a temptress' shade. Once satisfied with the result, I let them dry in silence.

Leaving the bedroom, I find the house quiet, offering no distractions. With nothing left to do, I begin to explore, determined to stop dwelling on the darkness. I can't change the past, but I can dream—dreams that might reshape everything.

I wander into a library with towering ceilings, its walls adorned with masterful Renaissance art. I walk deeper into the room, admiring each piece, lost in the beauty of it all.

Then, a voice breaks the stillness.

"I see my art fascinates you?"

I startle, spinning toward the door. Instinctively, I wrap my arms around myself, a shield against whatever might come next. His voice—there's no mistaking it. The man.

The tall stranger, with long hair, dries his hands on a towel before tossing it casually over his shoulder.

"I—I didn't know anyone else was here." I avoid his gaze, feeling his eyes linger over my frame, sharp and calculating.

He chuckled, "Me either, I thought I'd come finish my paintings while the Gusev family is out. I'm Oliver by the way."

I swallowed at his reason. "I'm Amina, you're from the s-states?"

"Newport Rhode Island." He placed his bag on the floor before digging through it. I returned a small polite smile then going back to looking around the space.

"If you don't mind me asking. How do you relate to the family? I'm sure I'll remember such a lovely face." Just that easy warmth grew to my face in his kind flattery.

A question I struggled to answer.

I turned to face him, "I don't relate." I whispered not wanting to share too much, and drifting off at the thought of Reign's perfect face.

"I'm Rei—," I held back inhaling my tears before they fell.

Oliver smile faded he was slightly unsure how to respond. I can tell he was nervous the way his eyes bounced around in question.

"Forgive me for disturbing you. I should go." He rushed his sentence out before quickly fishing for his bag. I can tell I frightened him, I didn't mean to do that. The terrifyingly amount of power one man has easily outweighs a royal kingdom. Reign knows how to put fear into people's hearts without them being in his presence.

Don't do it Amina.

"Oliver." I anxiously balled my fist.

Stop.

"Is that paint in your bag." I asked shakily exhaling.

He stopped movement avoiding to look in my direction, "I was made aware to never be in the same room as you. I should not be here." He's tone very quiet as if he was afraid to speak to me.

I listened but decided to ignore his statement.

"Show me your—,"

"I apologise Miss Amina I can't be here until the Gusev's gets back." Oliver departed for the door not sparing another glance. I was stuck confused in the centre of four large walls of enhanced expression. I've been intrigued with one question I should have been asking all along.

A voice gave me a look up instruction. I set my sight to the ceiling seeing a queen holding hands with a king who romantically gazed into her side. The deep passion for her in his eyes.

I squinted looking at her painted brown eyes— I swear I just saw that crown sparkle as it adorned her head.

A small smile graced my face, I looked back over at the door Oliver scurried through.

I wonder how much power does a woman hold along side an untouchable man?

•••