As I stir from my slumber, the heavenly scent of sizzling bacon and eggs fills my nose. Amidst the drowsiness, I squint at the sun’s rays bouncing off my walls and let out an exasperated sigh before easing out of bed. With a satisfying crack, I stretch my limbs, sweeping my hair out of my face.
After a quick routine of brushing my teeth and plunging my face into ice-cold water, I traipse down the stairs, feeling more alert and alive with each step. My stomach grumbles eagerly as I approach the kitchen, eagerly anticipating the breakfast feast before me.
As I make my way down the hal way, an al uring sound catches my attention. It’s the sweet melody of Irena’s humming, her thick tresses bouncing in time with the beat. Her curves are accentuated by the black lace dress she wears, which stops just short of revealing her ample backside. Her legs dance in a harmonious rhythm that leaves me spel bound. Suddenly, she spins around and lets out a shriek of surprise at the sight of me.
“Pierdolic!” she exclaims in Polish. I simply raise an eyebrow, folding my arms in amusement. “Bonjour petite biche,” I respond in French, and she scoffs, rolling her eyes as she sets down a glass on the kitchen island. I take a seat on one of the stools and watch as she moves around the space, carefully selecting and placing plates, utensils, and food with precision. She even adds a jar of orange juice to the spread.
After lovingly whipping up a delectable breakfast for the two of us, she takes a seat at the far end of the table, leaving an awkward space between us.
While I’m tempted to mention it, I figure now isn’t the best time for a heated debate; I’m famished and her culinary skills have my mouth watering.
Today, however, something feels different. As I watch her bustle about the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on our meal, I find myself feeling a newfound appreciation for her efforts. Despite my prior reservations, there’s no way I can resist digging in.
Who knows what the future holds – but if today’s my last day on earth, at least I’ll be going out on a delicious note.
‘Are you not concerned that I might have poisoned your food.’ she blurted out. I whipped my head around to face her just as she took a bite of her bacon, the juices oozing out and mingling with the eggs and toast on her plate. I held her gaze, intrigued. ‘Have you poisoned it?’ I questioned. She shrugs nonchalantly, responding with, ‘You will have to determine that for yourself.’
I retrieve my fork and proceed to transfer the food from the plate to my mouth, emitting a subdued growl as the exquisite flavours tantalize my taste buds. My tongue flicks out to relish the taste lingering on my lips, and I notice Irena observing me intently. I pause, acknowledging her stare, before replying, ‘Whether it is poisoned or not, I am content to die having enjoyed such a good meal.’ With that, I resume my breakfast with sheer delight.
As I gracefully slide off the stool, I collect my empty dishware and saunter over to the sink, turning on the faucet with a satisfying twist. But before I can even begin to scrub away the remnants of our delectable dinner, I’m overtaken by a wave of sweet honey scent as Irena approaches. Mesmerized, I watch as she delicately takes the soapy scrub from my hand and begins to wash the dishes with fierce determination. My breath catches as I realize just how much I’ve misjudged her.
‘I can’t let you do all the work,’ I murmur softly, her chocolate eyes sparkling with a hint of nervousness. But I know better than to let her take on the burden alone. ‘It’s a 50/50 relationship,’ I reply with sincerity, hoping to make amends for my past behaviour.
As she washes dish after dish with effortless precision, I can’t help but feel a tinge of guilt for the way I’ve treated her. But Irena surprises me when she playfully teases, cheeks flushed a rosy hue. ‘Who knew Saint Dé Leon had a gentleman in him?’ I feel the corners of my mouth twitch with a potential smile, but I suppress it quickly. ‘Don’t get used to it Doe,’ I retorted, knowing that it will take more than a few dishes to make up for my mistakes.
Irena pauses, her almond eyes penetrating into mine, searching for a meaning that she cannot comprehend. ‘Why do you call me that?’ she inquires, the depth of her gaze imploring me to reveal more.
‘Doe?’ I clarified, watching as she nodded tentatively.
‘You remind me of it. Gentle, kind, full of love, and exuding an aura of serenity,’ I begin, pausing briefly as I assess her reaction. ‘But that’s not all. A doe is a fighter, aware of her surroundings, calculated, and secretly wild. I see those qualities in you too,’ I continue, watching as Irena draws in a sharp breath, the curves of her chest rising and falling rhythmically.
‘You have no idea what you’re talking about,’ she asserts, fiercely scrubbing the plate in her hands. I raise an eyebrow, taking a calculated step closer to her as I reach for the dish scrubber. Our arms brush against each other, our eyes locking in fiery intensity.
‘You know I’m right, Irena,’ I murmur, my lips grazing the delicate curve of her neck. The sound of her name on my tongue sends shivers down my spine. She turns to face me, her body taut with anticipation, but I can sense her reluctance. Before she can protest, I press her up against me, savouring the feel of her soft curves against my hard body. I can’t help but shudder with pleasure as my cock stirs to life, responding to her proximity. Her breathless warning only adds fuel to the fire between us as we teeter on the brink of desire. Dark energy crackles in the air, pulling us inexorably together. “I can read you like a book.”
“Saint,” she coos her seductive voice a sultry melody that enthrals me. A pulsating force of mysterious allure flows between Irena and me, electrifying the air with dark energy.
My craving is insatiable, an unyielding hunger that only her body can satisfy. Every fiber of my being is drawn irresistibly towards her, my fingers itching to tear that t-shirt off her and uncover the beauty beneath. And fuck, what a beauty she is. Her breath comes in little gasps as she feels the hard length of my cock pressing against her, aching for release. Irena, the woman who haunts my thoughts day and night, has me wrapped around her finger with a power I cannot resist. The little voice in my head tells me to throw caution to the wind and plunge into the sweet paradise that awaits me, to make me hers in every sense of the word. The thought of feeling her hot breath on my skin, of hearing her cries of release echoing through the room, sends shivers down my spine. She is intoxicating, a rare and remarkable gem that shines brighter than any other, an exquisite blend of pleasure and pain that threatens to overwhelm me. As she draws closer to me, I can taste the sweet anticipation on her lips, the craving burning as strongly in her as it does in me. I want her more than I have ever wanted anything in my life, and with every moment that passes, that desire only grows stronger. I want her with every part of me, to feel her wrapped around me, to hear her cries of joy and ecstasy ring in my ears. This is the closest we’ve ever been, and I know I’ll never be the same again.
Her mere presence clouds my mind, leaving me in a dizzying state of delirium. I am mesmerized, captivated, and completely under her spell.
My infatuation with her knows no bounds. I crave her in every way possible, and the mere thought of her sends shivers down my spine.
My desire for her is all-consuming, a passion that burns deep within my soul. I am fiercely possessive of her and will stop at nothing to have her all to myself.
I am dangerously obsessed, consumed with the need to make her mine and mine alone. Every molecule in her being belongs to me, and I will do whatever it takes to make it a reality.
Even as I resist the urge to seduce her, she lingers in my mind. I step back watching as she walks away, leaving me in the kitchen, hungering for her touch.
As I stand before the sink, I feel a wave of frustration wash over me. I take a deep breath and attempt to steady myself, but it’s no use. I realize there is only one thing that could somewhat quell this burning desire. With a sudden burst of energy, I snatch a nearby plate and shatter it on the floor. As the pieces scatter, I run my hand over my head and grit my teeth as my gaze falls upon my throbbing dick, which threatens to become unbearable.
I am fucked.
Amidst each fiery punch and ferocious kick, my sweat-soaked locks clung to my skin in a maddening embrace, making it difficult to catch my breath.
‘You’re going to hurt yourself, take it easy,’ my brother Abel interjected, but I remained deaf to his plea, giving the punching bag my all as I unleashed my pent-up turmoil.
I unleashed a double kick on the bag, sending it flying dangerously close to the screws that held it up. ‘I see someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,’ he comments. “Unless you’re going to be throwing childlike comments while I’m training I advice you to shut the fuck up or leave.” I snapped with irritation, watching as he laughed lightly before rising to his feet.
“What the hell got your panties twisted?” he questions. My jaw clenched as I thought about Irena.
I give the punching bag one full blow before stepping back and cracking my neck, groaning in satisfaction when I hear a pop.
Abel tosses me the towel and I dry myself before grabbing the bottle of water.
“How do you make someone earn your trust?” I question, sipping on the water before closing the bottle with the cap.
“Woah, ar-are you coming to me for advice? The heavens have finally answered my prayers,” he says as he wipes a fake tear from the corner of his eye. I roll my eyes. “I’m serious dickhead.” I declare and he looks at me with a blank stare. “Oh,”
“May I ask why?” he questions, walking over to the pull bar and grabbing onto the pole as he begins to do pull-ups. “I want to earn Irena’s trust. She and I have some complications.” I explain and he laughs.
“While considering the fact that you literally go around and kill people for her and to clarify for the stupidest reasons, which is I might say fucked up and psychotic. How could she possibly not trust you?”
“You know what if you’re going to be bitching about it, then forget what I said.” I snapped, walking over to my bag and removing my gloves before tossing them inside.
Abel groans as he does another pull-up. “Okay, fuck relax.” he points out before letting go of the pole and landed on the floor. He raised his shirt and wiped away the sweat on his forehead before speaking.
“Is your situation similar to Nirali’s and I?” he questions and I deeply think about it before nodding. “Yeah, something like that.”
When Nirali and Abel met she was a complete mute. Abel held her hostage after she was found sleeping in my train carriage which was loaded with cocaine. Obviously, at first, I thought she was a spy and wanted to kill her on the spot but Abel had a crush on her like a teenage boy and told me that she would be under his responsibility. Obviously, I was not taking care of some random woman who was found in one of my trains loaded with illegal goods for transportation. Eventually, he convinced me and he took her in. It has been three months since she spoke. She didn’t trust anyone, she didn’t speak or leave the room.
I don’t know what Abel did to gain her trust but she was slowly coming out of her shell. Well to him of course. The only time she started speaking to me was after eight months of knowing her.
So to summarise. My situation is similar to Abel’s, which was seven years ago.
Instead of getting Irena’s trust to talk to me like Abel did with Nirali. I want to gain her trust that I can touch her without her panicking or storming away from me.
“When Nirali was mute, I did not force her to talk to me, instead I gave her a reason.”
“I would talk to her every day and clarify to her that I’m not talking to her because I want her to talk back to me, instead I told her because it’s a way of me showing her that I trust her and she can trust me,” he explains. “So Irena gives her a reason to trust you with whatever is troubling you.” he pauses, in deep thought for a moment before talking again. “Show her that you won’t remind her of whatever she doesn’t trust you with. Show her that you can be her escape,” he explains and I began to think of all the things I could do for her to trust me.
“Also, be gentle and patient. Don’t come off as strong and most in importantly don’t come up with fucked up ideas in that sick head of yours. For once, just this once, Show her that you too can have that vanil a side.”
“But I don’t have the ‘vanil a’ side like you.” I declare. “If you value her trust more than anything then trust me, you have that vanil a side I’m talking about.” He approached me and stabbed me in my chest with his index finger.
“All you have to do is dig deep in that tiny dark ashy heart of yours,” he states before stepping back and patting me on the shoulder.
“If you ask me about this, maybe she’s the one who can finally silence the demons you’ve been finding comfort in. You’ve helped me with this, now it’s my turn to repay you,” he says before walking away.
I watched him as he disappeared into the bathroom. Once he shut the door behind me I sighed, running my hand through my hair.
All I have to do is dig deep…
IRENA
His touch lingers on my skin, igniting a wildfire of sensations within me.
Each breath, each whisper, and each caress fuels the unquenchable desires that consume me. Despite my best efforts to resist his advances, his lustful intentions leave me weak at the knees.
When his lips traced the outline of my ear and his hardened dick pressed against my backside, I was powerless to resist. The rush of desire that washed over me left me breathless and hungry for more.
But now, as I flee upstairs to escape the tantalizing temptation he presents, a fierce war rages within me. My hatred for him festers, yet it is at odds with my unbridled lust. Like a lioness, stalking its prey, I am consumed by the insatiable hunger that threatens to devour us both.
I feel like a blundering fool whenever I’m near him; my thoughts and words become muddled while my body vibrates with heat. But I refuse to succumb to this torment. Instead, I’ll turn my cowardice into a clever ruse.
Hours later, I found myself weaving through the maze of shops at the mall, with Nirali leading the way like a shining beacon of distraction. Three of her beefy bodyguards and a pair of my own followed us, keeping a watchful eye on every corner.
Nirali’s bright smile was contagious as we strolled through the crowds, and I couldn’t help but smile back. ‘Thank you for saving me from the suffocating boredom of my bland existence,’ I joked with a laugh. Nirali’s expression turned serious as she asked, ‘How is it living with him?’
Terrifying.
Tensed.
Traumatizing.
‘Appalling,’ I murmured, prompting a sympathetic sigh from Nirali.
‘I’m truly sorry. If you require some space, you’re more than welcome to come and stay with me and Abel,’ she offered, causing me to feel tense.
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea. Your husband isn’t very fond of me,’ I confessed. Rolling her eyes, Nirali responded, ‘Don’t bother with him. He won’t do anything. Though he might come across as cold-hearted, behind closed doors, he’s the opposite. He practically worships me.’ She said it nonchalantly, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder.
If only I could be loved as wholeheartedly as Abel loves Nirali.
As Nirali and I stepped into the infamous Victoria’s Secret, I couldn’t help but notice the way her innocent gaze transformed into a heated desire. ‘I want to surprise Abel,’ she confessed, and I knew we were in for a wild ride.
As we browsed the delicate garments, I couldn’t help but sense the guards’ discomfort, their stern expressions, and their tensed shoulders as clear indicators of their unease.
But Nirali was on a mission, a devilish smirk playing on her lips as she sifted through the lacy fabric. ‘So many options,’ she purred, her fingers delicately tracing the delicate designs. But we were interrupted by a blonde-haired worker, her ocean-blue eyes questioning us with a hint of suspicion.
Nirali wasted no time and sought her assistance, and I couldn’t help but notice the worker’s soft features and nude lipstick. Her name tag read Amélie, and I tucked it away in my memory for future reference.
With a charming smile, Amélie shifts her attention to Nirali. ‘How can I assist you, my dear?’ she inquires, her tone polite and gracious. Nirali leans in eagerly. ‘I’m looking for something that will knock my husband’s socks off
– something that’s equal parts sexy and sweet.’ Amélie nods approvingly, her mind already working its magic. ‘Follow me,’ she commands, and we trot behind her like puppies, eager to see what wonders she has in store.
As we reach the storeroom, Amélie’s eyes gleam with excitement. She vanishes for a moment before reappearing with a stunning, snow-white lingerie set cradled delicately in her arms. Nirali can hardly contain herself; her gasp of delight is followed by a rush of grateful words. Amélie’s grin widens, and for a moment she appears to glow with pleasure at having fulfilled Nirali’s request so perfectly.
As Nirali eagerly fingers the fabric, lost in thought, I can’t help but giggle with glee. ‘That’ll definitely drive Abel wild,’ I quip. Nirali turns to me, her eyes sparkling with excitement. ‘You know what? You should get one too, Irena.”
My eyes widen with disbelief. ‘Who would I need that for?’ I question in astonishment. She lets out a sigh and rolls her eyes in response. ‘For your husband, Saint,’ she mutters. I am left speechless, my eyebrows raising in shock. ‘Are you kidding me?’ I exclaim. She folds her arms and scolds me with her gaze. ‘You’ll regret it if you don’t. I’ll even pay for it,’ she teases, wiggling her eyebrows and shoulders enticingly. I nibble on my bottom lip, contemplating whether or not to indulge in the purchase of lingerie.
To wear. For Saint.
What’s the harm in buying it? Even if we don’t engage in physical contact, it still be a thrilling indulgence.
Just imagining the look on Saint’s face when he sees me wearing it, knowing he can’t touch me, is enough to make me want to do it.
It’s time to take a step out of my comfort zone and spice things up.
“Fuck it.” I sigh and Nirali claps her hands in joy like a child. “Yay.”
‘Hey, Amélie.’ I turn to my friend, a mischievous glint in my eyes. ‘Do you have anything that can turn her into a seductive vixen?’
My cheeks flush with embarrassment. But intrigued nonetheless.
Amélie struts away like she’s on a secret mission. ‘You’re gonna love this,’
Nirali can’t contain her excitement. I’m skeptical, unsure if this idea is worth the trouble.
But Nirali sees something in me that I don’t quite see yet. ‘You have the power to make Saint yours,’ she insists. ‘You have the looks, the charm, everything. All it takes is unleashing your inner Cleopatra and he won’t know what hit him.’
I’m silent, letting the words seep into my mind. Who knew a little confidence could be so deadly?
In a flash, Amélie slips into the room draped in the most seductive black lingerie and Nirali’s jaw drops in disbelief. ‘Holy fucking wow!’ she exclaims, unable to contain her shock. With a graceful gesture, Amélie hands me the lingerie and flashes a devilish grin, ‘This is perfect for your skin tone. It’ll enhance the effect.’ Nirali bursts into giggles, all while I flash a sly smile, knowing deep down that I can hardly wait to taunt Saint with this new ensemble.
