"When a devil falls in love, it's the most hauntingly beautiful thing ever. And you should be terrified, for he will go to the depths of hell for her."

Arabella Karve "Good evening," Dimitri gives me a seductive smile as I slowly sit down in the seat beside him, admiring the dining table that's ridiculously decorated by anything that sparkles.

My parents really went all out tonight— well even more than usual. Golden candles, antique glasses, and all kinds of courses filled with delectable food line the extensive table. The ivory lace tablecloth, outlined by tiny golden embroideries, shimmers softly beneath the warm light of the priceless chandeliers.

The chatter from the many 'special' guests fills the room, chorusing with the sound of Mr.Dupont's laughter as my mother showers him with compliments at the end of the table.

"Dimitri," I give him a tight lipped smile, struggling to suppress the adrenaline pumping through my veins. He kissed me. I kissed him. We kissed.

I still feel his hands on my body. On my waist, my hair, my neck— my thigh.

And for the first time in twenty years, that empty feeling that sits at the bottom of my chest, gnawing away at my soul every day, is gone.

"I was worried for a moment there that you weren't going to make an appearance," he grins, casually draping an arm over the back of my chair as he leans in a little closer to me.

My body goes rigid as the smile on my face wavers from the proximity.

I nervously fiddle with the hem of my black dress as I cross my legs, picking at a small piece of string that I tore when ripping off the tag.

After Eros left, and my fathers apprentice gave me one last judgmental look before leaving my room, I realized my perfectly white dress was tainted by the blood coating Eros.

Last week after me and my friends got lunch, I found a small boutique that had just opened down the street. When the woman who worked there showed me a dress that she said 'looked like me', and it happened to be the last one in stock— I immediately fell in love with it. And then after arguing with Eros for about ten minutes, he ended up buying it for me as I thanked him relentlessly.

"Oh don't worry, I could never decline an offer to hang out with someone as charming as you."

Dimitri throws his head back with laughter as his blond hair falls around his smiling face, framing his attractive features.

A shiver runs down my spine as I suddenly become aware of a gaze burning into the side of my head, causing the hairs on the back of my neck to rise. My heart races as I slowly turn my head to the wall adjacent to me, and my eyes immediately clash with the piercingly blue ones that are trained unwaveringly upon me.

Eros's eyes flicker down to the arm draped over the back of my chair, and carefully run along it until they lock on Dimitris' hand that is silently caressing my pale skin. Fuck.

His eyes visibly darken and I silently shake my head at him as a muscle feathers in his hauntingly sharp jaw, his fingers twitching towards the gun tucked in his waistband.

My gaze suddenly snaps towards Dimitri as I feel his obvious staring. I slightly squeeze my legs together, noticing his gaze glued upon my upper thighs, "don't."

The words fall from my lips before I can stop them, taking Dimitri completely by surprise.

"Apologies," he grins as the shocked expression fades, "you just look irresistible."

"Nice try," I roll my eyes, "I don't want to be looked at like that."

"Like what?"

"You know what I mean Dimitri. Let's not pretend that you are thinking of anything appropriate."

"You should be flattered Arabella. Now, don't think too hard, that pretty little brain of yours can't handle it," he laughs, choosing to ignore the sly bite behind my words. "I'm not planning anything."

"You might not be," I smile sweetly, "but he is."

The color drains from Dimitri's face as I softly incline my head towards the deadly man concealed by the hall's shadows, and he finally notices the murderous expression locked on him.

"But don't think too hard about it," I say, keeping a smile on my face, "that pretty little brain of yours can't handle it."

"Arabella! I didn't even realize you decided to finally join us tonight," a high pitched squeal rings out, pulling my attention away from Dimitri.

Oh God.

"Lovely to see you again Diana."

She gives me a feline smile, "I heard about your little garden party today."

"Mhm," I hum in response, trying to not remember what happened today.

"Victimizing yourself once again." She tucks a piece of her shoulder length blonde hair behind her ear, "I believe that's a sign of insecurity."

"Well, wouldn't you know all about it?"

She laughs, "I always forget what a sense of humor you have."

"Ah yes, are you alright Arabella? Your mother was telling us all about how you were ambushed," Mr. DuPont looks towards me with a true look of worry upon his aged face, decorated in symbols of the life he has lived.

The entire table falls into a state of silence as everyone's attention is pulled towards me, waiting for an answer.

"It was stressful and unexpected, but I am alright now," I say numbly, trying to ignore Eros's heated gaze from across the room.

"Is it true that you think they were sent by the Russian mafia?"

I continue nervously picking at my dress, the dark fabric twisting in between my fingers.

"Yes, one of the men had a Salvic star tattooed on his neck" I answer Mr. DuPont, knowing exactly who sent them.

But no one will believe me.

A smirk crosses Dimitri's face before it disappears just as fast as it appeared,a flicker of something darker behind that charming mask.

"Wow, it's almost like he's still here," Diana says softly, a knowing gleam in her eyes.

"Why are they back again— especially after Dominik's death?" Mr. Dupont says, his eyebrows furrowing, "you think they would just leave our operation alone."

"Revenge?" A man who I've never been introduced to says calmly.

"Well the only reason Dominik ever pursued Arabella is Fyodor Voklov, who is very much alive. After everything happened, I am assuming he went into hiding to mourn for his son. But now he is back, and with reason to destroy us— destroy her— past just wanting power for his empire," my father adds, resting his chin in his hand.

I recoil in my seat.

"He's alive!" I want to scream across the table, tell them that it is not just Dominik's father. He himself is coming to kill me. Not just for the throne any more, but also because of something personal— something unexplainable— between us.

"When Dominik was around, wasn't it all just a game?" Dorian finally speaks up, leaning forward slightly.

"God, they are just disgusting," a pretty ginger at the end of the table mumbles to her date.

"A game you could say, a challenge more ably."

"But why would Fyodor only choose to give the throne to his heir if he got her?" Dorian inclines his head towards me.

"There are a multitude of reasons. To make sure he was capable of the task, to possess leverage over us, possibly just for pure entertainment." My father says.

"Then why'd he drag it out so long? He obviously wanted the power, he had plenty of opportunities to take her. So why not?"

"Well if that wasn't the million dollar question," my father smirks as if this is all some sort of game.

I bite my lip as they continue dissecting the worst years of my life, my heart racing and my eyes darting rapidly around the room. From my smirking father, the staring Duponts— to Eros's hard eyes, cunning and observant. Listening to every word being said and slowly putting the pieces into place.

They analyze my birthday party four years ago, the first time we met, all the way to what happened that night in the garden.

Eros knows. Eros knows. Eros knows. Eros knows. Eros knows.

"Are you alright?"

I quickly pull my eyes away from Eros and look towards Dimitri whose eyebrows are furrowed— a look of concern washing over his features as he leans in towards me.

"Yeah— yeah I'm alright," I say breathlessly. I hadn't even realized my breath had turned shaky as Dimitri takes in my expression.

Dimitri's finger continues softly caressing the soft skin of my shoulder and I struggle to suppress the shiver of disgust that runs down my spine.

"You look like you're going to be sick, here let me stop them—"

I immediately shake my head, "No, Dimitri, don't."

"Well this isn't an appropriate dinner conversation."

"No, It's alright, I'm alright." The last thing I want to do is draw any more attention to myself.

I slowly lean back in my chair and try to ignore the feeling of Dimitris fingers as I listen to the conversation.

When is he coming for me? I put on a biased expression, pretending to be decently interested in whatever topic is taking place.

"May I ask if there are any proposals for what we are going to do about Fyodor?" Dimitri interjects himself into the conversation, pulling everyone's eyes in our direction once again.

My mother opens her mouth, "well if we—"

"Martha," my father immediately growls, cutting her off. "This is not a topic for everyone to hear, nor a conversation for you to be a part of."

My mother purses her maroon colored lips as she takes a steady breath.

The countless times my father has promised her that he cares for her opinion and reassured her of their equality— yet he still has the audacity to say something like that. And the worst part is that she just lets him.

No matter how cruel my mother is to me, I don't miss the extra makeup coating her cheekbones some days, or the bruises on her wrists that she wears like she does her jewelry. She has had her reasons to become the woman she is today. No matter how much I hate her.

Mr. DuPont's hand tightens around his fork, watching the interaction. I take another sip from my champagne, trying to ignore the pressure in my temple.

Eros knows now. And there is no more keeping what happened from him.

But what if I lose him?

꧁꧂

The silence is deafening as the sounds of my footsteps fill the empty hallway, along with the slow and precise set after mine. My head hangs low with my eyes locked on the marble floor, and I almost want to thank my dark veil of hair for covering my flushed face as I slowly walk through the dark manor— Eros quietly trailing after me.

I bite the inside of my cheek as tonight plays over and over again inside of my head— each one of my secrets being ripped open and dissected in front of the one person who I believe truly cares about me.

I couldn't give a fuck if everyone else at that table heard it... but Eros?

After dinner ended, I didn't say a word besides mumbling a quiet 'excuse me' before solemnly walking out of the dining hall. Thankfully, Eros didn't say a word either as he followed after me. Because I don't know what he will say.

My hand grasps onto the cold medal of my door knob, and I take a deep breath before pushing it open and without a word walking into the safety of my bedroom.

I don't turn around as I listen to my door click shut, and the lock quietly falls into place. The only sound that fills the room is our quiet breathing and the sound of rain patting against the window outside.

"I shouldn't have said that," Eros's deep voice chatters the silence wrapping around us, the words feeling like a cold bucket of water being thrown over me. I dig my nails harshly into my palms, forming half crescent moons in the soft skin as I try to handle the sudden ache in my chest.

I knew I was going to lose him. His words, the kiss, these past couple months... they were too good to be true. Because this is the way my world works. I lose the things that matter to me everytime. Except this time— I lost everything. I lost him.

"I shouldn't have said the things I did. I shouldn't have—" his voice suddenly breaks and a hurt expression washes over his cold features, knocking the air out of my lungs.

"You didn't mean—" my lips quivers as I try to internalize his words, "you didn't mean them?" I whisper softly, the words so quiet they are a ghost of a sentence sitting upon my painted red lips.

He runs a hand through his dark hair and looks away from me, "that's not what I said."

"Then what are you saying?"

He doesn't respond as I dig my nails harsher into my skin.

"Do you love me or not Eros?!" I snap at him, every heartbeat becoming so painful it's almost unbearable.

He flinches, finally looking back toward me. "I need you to be happy Bella, that's all I want. And by me having come up here earlier, forcing how I feel upon on you— forcing myself upon you—" he shakes his head, " is not fucking accomplishing that."

My world stops and I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out.

"Hearing about your past— God, what you've been through Bella," he shakes his head, "you deserve someone who can give you everything you want in this world. You deserve someone who can be good for you. Someone who can make you happy. Someone you are able to love." His eyes bore into mine— pain and guilt dancing between us, "and that's not me."

Pain. That's the only way I can describe the way he is talking to me, the way he is looking at me. Pain in those cold blue eyes and beautiful features that have altered into something that people are known to fear. Like an angel fallen from glory.

"You didn't—" I frustratedly rake my hands through my dark hair as tears prick the corners of my eyes.

He turns away from me as his calloused hand curls into a fist, turning the top of his knuckles white. I watch through glossy eyes as the powerful muscles within his back ripple with each step toward the door, pushing against the material of his black oxford shirt that's loosely unbuttoned down to his sternum, showing off the silver chain hanging around his tanned neck.

"I'm sorry Arabella." He says quietly, before swallowing thickly. "Goodnight," his rough voice resonates within me.

He's leaving me.

"Of course you're sorry," I scoff quietly under my breath, the sound drowning out the shattering ache within my chest and the storm outside. "Go ahead and leave. No one is going to stop you Eros. Be just like everyone else and tell yourself you are doing an honorable thing," I finish, as a single tear falls from my eye.

Eros freezes with his hand wrapped around the door knob. He slowly turns his head as he listens to my quiet words, his jaw tightening to stone.

"I haven't been honorable a day in my fucking life, especially not when it comes to you. And I'm not leaving because this is what I would ever choose. But I am not someone people love. I'm not someone deserving of any," he takes a deep breath.

"The last thing I would ever want to do is make the one person I love in this world— the one person that I care about— unhappy by pretending that I'm something lovable." His voice is thick with emotion.

He doesn't know. He doesn't realize that he means the world to me.

"But I love you Eros," I whisper softly.

Everything stills around us.

I watch the muscles in his back go rigid, as if he has never heard someone say those words to him. He's never heard me say them to him.

He inhales sharply before carefully turning his body back towards me with his jaw clenched so tightly, he resembles one of the ancient roman statues that display the epitome of masculinity .

"You love me?" His voice is so soft it takes me a few seconds to decide if it was truly Eros who could have said it.

"I thought you knew," I rasp, letting the tears I've been holding back finally fall.

He slowly shakes his head, his dark locks of raven colored hair falling over his forehead.

"You're leaving because you thought— you thought I didn't love you?" I say under my breath.

He thought he was forcing how he feels upon me, thought he was forcing himself upon me. He thinks that he is hurting me by being here.

I slowly walk towards him as he drops his head, my entire soul crushing at the fact that the person who makes up my entire existence believes that they are not worthy of love.

I softly place my hands on his jaw, cuffing his beautiful face as I crane my neck up to meet his eyes. He tenses under my touch, but as I begin to remove my hands— never wanting to ever make him uncomfortable— he immediately wraps his hands around my wrists, keeping my hands in place.

He carefully lets go of my wrists once my hands stay grounded, softly using the pad of his thumb to wipe away the tears rolling down my cheeks.

"Eros, I love you with everything that I am," I admit quietly. "I don't want someone perfect or good or—" I sniffle and shake my head, "I just want you Eros. You and only you, forever—" My voice cracks before Eros's lips are instantly on mine, swallowing the rest of words on my tongue.

"I love you," he says against my lips as his large hands slide down to my waist.

"I love you," I gasp back, causing him to hungrily deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue into my mouth. My eyes flutter shut as I get lost in the ethereal feeling of him— the unexplainable taste of him.

"You're not going to leave, right?" I breathe into his mouth as I feel his hand slide down to the curve of my ass, my entire body shuddering from his touch. He smoothly picks me up with one arm, never breaking the kiss. I immediately wrap my legs around his solid torso, heat drenching my core at the feeling of his body pressed completely against my most intimate part.

"No baby, I promise," he says against my lips.

"But you were gonna—" I moan as he kisses down my neck, worshiping my skin with his mouth.

"I'm stupid when it comes to you," he hushes me, using one of his arms to hold me up as his other fists the back of my hair, giving him better access to my mouth. He takes powerful steps forward until next thing I am pressed up against the wall, crushed between two immovable forces.

His mouth takes control of mine again, and I immediately intertwine my fingers into his dark head of hair, tugging slightly because of the pure exhilaration I get from hearing the throaty groan that leaves his perfect lips.

"Don't," he growls as he grinds his hips into my core, letting me feel the solid perfection of him. I let out a whimper as everything in me throbs at the sudden heat pumping through my blood, and the feeling of him.

"We need to stop," Eros says as I squeeze my eyes shut and tilt my head to the side, giving him better axis to my skin, begging— dying— for his addictive touch.

"Why?" I gasp as he pulls away, his jaw locked and eyes dark.

I am so far gone that I am not against giving up all of my self respect by getting on my knees, ready to beg for him to touch me, kiss me, do anything— everything to me.

He pants heavily as he stares into my eyes, his dark hair flopping messily over his forehead that's slick with sweat. His chest heaves, the solid muscles pressing against me as he digs his fingers into my outer thigh— where one of his hands made its way to.

"Because if this progresses any further and we have to stop, I think I might die," he whispers into my ear, gently nipping my earlobe.

This man is going to be the death of me.

I shake my head as I struggle to form a coherent sentence, "please," I whimper.

Realization washes over his grim expression, realization of how pathetically desperate I am for him.

He slowly slides his hand under my dress, unhooking the holster around my thigh holding the dagger, the action more sensual than one would ever expect.

A smirk plays at his lips, an arrogant— proud, fucking smirk, "use your words, Vita Mia. Tell me what you want."

I nod breathlessly, "I want you Eros." I rasp out, pressing my hands against his solid chest.

"Good girl."

One minute I'm pressed up against my bedroom wall. The next Eros slams my ass on top of my vanity, roughly kissing me as I listen to the chorus of objects falling and shattering on my bedroom floor.

He immediately slides his veiny hands to my hips— paying no attention to the destruction caused by him— tugging me forward so that I am completely pressed up against him. My legs are still locked around his waist, struggling to not completely melt under his touch.

The world slips away from around us, the only thing existing is Eros. The man who I once hated with everything I am. The man who I once wanted nothing more than to ruin, who I now want nothing more than to ruin me.

I messily kick off my shoes, along with Eros, desperate to feel his skin against mine. A gun clatters from the floor as he finally gets his boot off, making my eyes widen.

"You have a gun in your boot?" I get out through ragged breaths.

"I always do," he barely takes his lips off of mine.

"Arms up," Eros commands breathlessly. Before I can even get my arms fully above my head, my dress is smoothly ripped off of me, leaving me in my thin black lace set.

My legs unwrap from Eros as he takes a step backwards, his eyes devouring every inch of my skin. Drinking in every detail. Every curve. Every scar.

"Fottutamente perfetto," he growls darkly before effortlessly scooping me back up in his arms.

"Eros," I gasp as he lays me down on our bed, bracing himself above me. "I-I've never done this before."

Eros leans his head down towards me, claiming my lips as I fist the front of his shirt.

He pulls away, a starved gleam in his eyes, "I'll be gentle, baby. And if you're ever uncomfortable we'll stop, okay?"

I nod breathlessly as Eros stares down at me, his lips swollen and breath heavy.

"God, I love you," he breathes before I pull him back towards me. I kiss him roughly, my fingers desperately fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.

He kisses me like I'm the air he breathes, like I'm his last breath that he never wants to forget. He kisses me like my lips are a taste of everything he's ever wanted— everything he's ever needed.

Every dark thought. Every sinful wish.

Eros kisses my jaw before helping me pull off his shirt, revealing the perfectly carved set of abs sculpted down his torso, surrounded by the many dark tattoos and faded scars.

I shiver as Eros's hand reaches under my back, unhooking my bra in one flawless movement.

He looks over me with a ravenous expression, memorizing every inch of how my body looks, completely vulnerable except for the flimsy piece of underwear hiding nothing.

"Beautiful," Eros says under his breath before he suddenly begins kissing down my breast, his hands resting on either side of my head.

I tilt my head backwards as a moan breaks past me, Eros's mouth sucking on the skin that is aching for him like never before.

Every kiss, every flick of his tongue, feeling like a devotion to my body— and mine alone.

A deep noise sounds from Eros as he moves to my other breast, showering the sensitive skin in equal attention. I harshly bite my lip to try and muffle my noises of pure pleasure, letting him work his magic on my body.

Eros brings one of his hands up to my chin pulling my lip from in between my teeth, before capturing it with his own. I gasp at the harsh sensation before he smoothly lays a gentle kiss and pulls away, "they can't hear you all the way down there. It's only me Bella, and I want to hear every single noise that comes from that pretty little mouth of yours."

Heat fills my core at the sound of his breathless Italian accent filling my ears, along with the feeling of his finger tracing the outline of my underwear. My hips slightly grind against his hand as a subconscious reaction, making Eros look as if he is going to lose himself on spot.

"Non capisci cosa mi fai," he growls, feeling the drenched material that tells him just how much I crave him.

"Now tell me to stop if you want me to stop," he mumbles while looking down at me, a mess underneath his addictive touch.

I nod weakly, my entire body trembling with anticipation.

That's all the warning I get before my underwear are ripped off of me, the sound of fabric tearing as it disappears from my line of sight.

Eros wastes no time, suddenly dragging one of his fingers down my core, touching the most sensitive part of my body, where no one has before. I whimper quietly as he lazily circles my clit with his thumb while watching me with curious eyes.

A predator watching its prey with sin-eating eyes. Waiting, studying, imagining.

One of his fingers circle one last time before slowly pushing itself inside of me as I cry out to Eros.

He tucks a piece of hair behind my ear with his other hand as he slowly pulls his finger back out.

"Eros—" I am cut off when he unexpectedly pushes two fingers inside of me at full force, his thumb still tracing around my throbbing clit. I automatically squeeze around his fingers as a cry erupts from me, feeling the cold metal of his rings touch my skin that feels as if it is on fire.

Eros begins to quickly fall into a rhythm, pumping his two fingers within me. I feel myself falling apart, Eros moving at an indescribable pace, that makes me slip away from everything except him. Whimpers and moans fill the room as his fingers threaten to push me right over the edge.

His thumb presses on my clit as he ruthlessly curles his fingers inside of me, digging into my walls. I cry out desperately, feeling him press a kiss to my temple in response.

I want more. I need more. I need him— all of him.

Right as I feel myself on the verge of shattering upon his fingers, Eros completely pulls his hand away, looking down at me with pride.

I gasp for air while having to endure the torture of the loss of his touch, watching as Eros silently holds up his glistening fingers into the moonlight, shining in through the window thats slick with rain.

He stares straight into my glossy and desperate eyes, silently placing his fingers in his mouth, sucking away the wetness of my arousal. His Adam's apple bobs as he silently savors the taste. He slowly pulls his fingers away from his mouth after a while, looking like a starved man that's just had a taste of everything he's ever craved for the first time.

"Please," I whimper right before his lips crash back into mine. My hands find their way to his belt and before I know it, the belt is thrown to the floor, along with all of our other discarded clothes.

He carefully takes the gun out of his waistband, making sure it doesn't ever come close to me, setting it down on the nightstand.

As I am busy memorizing the pure beauty of him, his pants are thrown to the side, leaving him in black boxer briefs that display his muscular thighs and godly perfection.

And then those are gone as well.

I have loved art my entire life. I've studied the most beautiful paintings, and most well known sculptures. Perfect strokes and expensive paints, years of carving into stone to create the idea of beauty itself.

Yet, when I hear the word beauty now, those sculptures and paintings will never be what I picture. Because nothing will ever compare to this.

All six foot four of him is rigidly defined by powerful— rippling— muscle, like his body has been honed into a weapon itself. His torso, his biceps, his shoulders. The dark ink of the snake tattoo, bound around his veiny arm, flexes with each simple movement, contrasting against his flawlessly tan skin.

And then there is the rest of him—

"You sure?" He says breathlessly as he tugs me a little closer to him on the bed, the tip of him nudging at my core. The coil in my stomach tightens and an unworldly noise falls from Eros.

"Yes," I whisper, struggling to maintain a grip on my throbbing body, begging for him. "Are you?"

A dangerous smirk plays on Eros's plum lips, where a trace of my lipstick is smeared on the corner, "completely."

Searing pain suddenly erupts within my lower body as Eros slowly thrusts forward, a sob breaking past my lips from the pain that's like something I have never felt before.

His length fills me entirely, my nails grounding themselves in his shoulder to try and stop the small tear that rolls down the corner of my eye.

"Fuck– fuck, are you okay?" he goes rigid, his eyes darker than night itself as his expression lines with worry. He smoothly leans down towards me, gently kissing away the tear.

I whimper out a quiet yes, slowly adjusting to the pure size of him. He runs one of his large hands through my hair, cuffing the side of my jaw. I lean into his hand for comfort, letting the pain slowly fade away.

"I'm okay," I nod stiffly, Eros letting go of my jaw and intertwining his hand with mine, placing it on my chest.

"We can stop if you aren't," he groans, even though he looks like he is feeling more than extraordinary.

"No, I promise," I gasp out as he moves just slightly, leaving small kisses on my cheeks and jaw, memorizing the taste of my skin.

I take a deep breath as he slowly lets go of my hand and grabs onto my thighs, carefully guiding them around his waist.

"You're like nothing I've ever seen before," he rasps out, staring down at my naked body that is completely on display for him.

"I can't tell if that's a c-compliment," I manage.

"You have no idea."

Eros slowly pulls away, and then drives his hips forward with raw power, making stars dance in my vision and noises I didn't even know I was capable of fill the room. Everything melts away into pure pleasure, becoming something I could have never imagined before this moment.

His rhythm becomes unbreakable, his body crashing upon mine like the waves do the shore. Pure ecstasy rushes through my blood, Eros's muscles moving against my body inorder to go faster, deeper.

My body tightens around his length, causing a deep noise to come from the back of Eros's throat. I dig my nails into his shoulders, trying to keep a grip on him as he thrusts rougher than ever before.

Eros's large hand suddenly wraps around my wrists, effortlessly pinning them above my head without a pause, positioning me just as he wants. He holds me not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to know which one of us has the power here, just using a fraction of his strength.

"Eros, please–" I gasp out a sob, his hand tightening around my wrist as I try to pull free, my entire body trembling beneath him.

"You're doing so good," he growls through gritted teeth, his jaw locked and skin slick with sweat. His dark hair brushes against my forehead, each movement planned and so lethally addictive.

I roll my hips against his and arch my back, high on the feeling of him inside of me. He groans, nudging my knees upwards, taking me deeper.

Here I am the most vulnerable I have ever been, with my hands pinned above my head and body completely on display. But I never want to stop.

I'm an exhausted, begging, trembling mess. Just for him.

"Eros," I cry, his name becoming the only word that has ever mattered.

His thumb presses down on my clit again right as I begin to lose myself, his warm breath caressing my ear, "now release for me, Vita Mia."

My orgasm floods through me like lightning through my bloodstream, shattering my mind and body.

The symphony of the disastrous storm outside drowns out my screams and cries, riding out my euphoria. I lose track of time as Eros keeps pumping inside of me, indescribably heightening my climax.

A sudden shudder rolls through his body and I can barely breath as he rips out from inside of me, throwing back his head with an animalistic noise.

No one will ever see Eros like this, at a loss of control, his cold exterior finally snapping.

He releases my wrists as I gasp for air, slumping back into the bed with exhaustion.

I slowly begin to come back down from my high, feeling once again in my body as the world comes back around me. I take ragged breaths, everything finally hitting me.

Especially how fucking tired I am.

"Ow," I groan, Eros's heavy body inevitably crashing on top of mine. He hums in response while tucking his face into the crook of my neck, clearly still coming down from his climax.

I wrap my arms around his neck as I enjoy the warmth of his breath caressing my skin, even though his body feels like a million pounds.

My eyelids begin to grow heavy, my breath slowly becoming steady. The welcoming darkness slowly wraps around me, before I am suddenly brought back to reality by the feeling of Eros pushing his body off of me, taking all of his warmth with him.

He kisses my eyebrow and I groan, tiredly shoving his face away with my hand. His laughter fills my ears, and no matter how tired I am that noise fills my stomach with butterflies.

"Come on mia Bella, you need to go to the bathroom," I can hear the smile in his words as he gently drags his finger along my thigh.

"I will tomorrow," I mumble, turning away from him.

He laughs again before gently scooping me up in his muscular arms, effortlessly holding me to his chest. I feel him walk towards the bathroom, ignoring my mumbling complaints.

"I'm tired," I grumble as he places me down on the counter, staring at me with such transfixed eyes, I could almost believe that I am the most incredible thing he has ever seen.

"I had no idea," he gives me a lazy grin before turning away from me, walking towards the shower. He nods towards the toilet and pulls open the shower door, still facing away from me, "bathroom."

I groan dramatically, sliding off of the counter, even though I know he is a bossing me around for my health.

I quickly finish going to the bathroom, listening as Eros turns on the walk-in shower placed in the corner of my bathroom. I sit down on the toilet lid, silently watching as Eros tests the water temperature, drops of water rolling down his body.

"Keep looking at me like that, and we're not going to be done for the night," Eros says, stepping out of the shower and walking towards me.

I give him a tired smile, looking up at him with heavy eyes, "like what?"

"Like how you did to begin tonight," he leans forward and kisses my forehead, taking my hands in his. I roll my eyes with a soft smile. He watches me, carefully pulling me up to lead me towards the shower.

We step in and I sigh in relief, the steam surrounding my sore body.

The warm water runs down my body as I tiredly rest my head on Eros's naked chest, savoring the feeling of his body pressed up against mine.

"Are you okay?" Eros asks, running his fingers along my spine.

I nod, looking up at him, "why do you ask?"

"What happened at dinner," he says, raising one of his hands to my cheek.

"Oh," my chest tightens as I struggle to find an explanation.

"Let's talk about it tomorrow, okay?" His eyes are gentle as he looks at me.

"Are you mad?"

"No, of course not," he kisses me softly.

Time slows as we savor each other in a foreign silence, making love to each other, but this time slower. Drinking in every touch and every breath. Not rushing like the first time, when we were desperate to feel and taste each other, because of the months we fought against it.

This time we can enjoy every moment of each other. And I almost love it more than before.

Then as we finish, Eros tells me over and over again how much he loves me, handling my body as if it is the most important thing in the world.

And Eros's rough hands that have only ever been trained to kill and hurt— never having known kindness— use my lavender shampoo to gently wash my hair, taking their time to make sure everything is done perfectly.

Sweet nothings are whispered in my ear as he gently massages my head, kissing my skin and worshiping my every movement.

"I love you Eros," I mumble softly. Eros kisses the top of my head.

"I love you Vita Mia."

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Back again!!! It's been too long!!😭 Hope you enjoyed! Please let me know, I love y'all's comments! Please remember to vote❤️❤️

Word count:6533