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“Let me help you, bambino. Let me replace all of it. Let me help you get revenge,” he asks and says at the same time, keeping his eyes on me.
Revenge, revenge is something I need, something I crave, but the fear of what will happen fucking freezes me. For so long, I was numb. For so long, I escaped within myself to survive what Sebastian and those men did to me. It is time I stop running. It is time to face all the voices inside my head and regain my control. With Christian, I can. With Christian, I will. I can see it in his eyes. My father gave me away, and he didn’t try to find me. He is the one who handed me over to Sebastian and those other gross men who did ungodly things to me.
“Do you think it’s possible for me to be happy?” I ask as my heart races with my new thoughts, races with my question.
“Yes, bambino. Yes, it is possible, and I will make fucking sure it happens. I promise,” he whispers with rage, passion, and love in his voice.
More tears start to build in my eyes. They build because of his confidence, his love, his reassurance that I am going to be okay, we are going to be okay.
“There is so much rage inside me. Is there actually a way to live a normal life with you by my side while I’m filled with so much rage and pain?” I ask with a shaky voice.
He leans in down, his lips now against my ear. As my body melts against him, his hands release my face and grab onto my hips.
“Give me you, give me all of you, and we will burn this whole fucking world together, my queen. Normal, we are not normal. I can’t promise normal, but I can promise you that the world will burn, the streets will run with the blood of those who hurt you, and you will get your revenge with me right by your side, my queen.” His voice is steady, calm, and gentle.
He pulls back, his eyes on me, and before I can respond, he leans in and smashes his lips to mine, taking my breath away. I melt into him, my hands resting on his back, pulling him into me.
I believe him.
I love him.
My father will fucking pay for what he has done to me; I have suffered too much for too long. I have allowed the voices and what Sebastian and the men did to me to control me for far too fucking long. I am not going to let them control me anymore.
Christian is right. The world will burn, the streets will run red, and we will do it together.
For I am his queen, and he is my fucking monster.
43
Christian
Ilean forward in the chair, my arms resting on my knees as I watch Nicole sleep. Her naked body is exposed, her arms are underneath the pillow, and her head is turned towards me as she sleeps.
Her questions have run on a never-ending loop inside my head. I promised her revenge, and I promised her we would burn down the world and the streets would run red with blood. I have every fucking intention of keeping my promises to her. I have every fucking intention of making sure that what happened to her will never fucking happen again.
She doesn’t know it, but since coming back to the States, I have been keeping tabs on her fucking no-good father. He is not who she thinks he is. I don’t think he ever was, honestly. But she is not ready to hear that, and I am not prepared to fucking tell her.
I have felt pain, gone through pain, witnessed pain, and inflicted pain on others my entire fucking life, but the pain, chaos, and rage inside her takes my fucking breath away. It does so because she and I are the same. Our situations were different, our fucking lives were different, but the ending result is the same.
The way she looks at me tells me that she wants me to be her prince charming, her hero, but if I am being fucking honest, I am neither of those things. I am a murderer, a fucking mostro, and every moment I try and hold back what is inside me, but the more I do hold back, the more and more and more unhinged I seem to become, but the thought of hurting her fucking kills inside.
She is safe with me. She is safe with me as long as the mostro inside me stays locked away because if I let it out, if I allow my fucking self to let go, I am scared I am going to fucking kill her, not physically, but mentally, psychologically, emotionally, fucking rip her apart and slowly put back together the pieces again to match my own scarred heart and soul.
She might be ready for that one day, but not right now, not after what she said tonight. So I will do what I can to make sure that my mostro stays hidden until she is ready. And fuck man, I hope one day she is ready.
What happens next is going to change her forever. Getting revenge is like a fucking sickness that runs through our veins once you get a taste of it. It becomes like a fucking drug you never want to go away. I should fucking know it is partly the reason I am who I am today, and I don’t want that for her. I don’t want the revenge to destroy the beautiful fucking person she is inside.
She is strong, kind, gentle, loving, completely un-fucking hinged, and I am here for all of it. When I look at her, when I touch her, when I kiss her, when I fuck her, she takes my pain away, she brings me peace, and that is all I want for her, to be happy, to be fucking free from the madness within. In order for her to become free, she has to have revenge on her father. He did all of this for reasons I can’t fucking figure out, and I have tried. There is no part of his life that I haven’t fucking ripped apart trying to explain and understand why he would just fucking give his daughter to Sebastian, it has to be more than him just losing a fucking case, but whatever it is, he has locked it away fucking good.
I take a deep breath as I force myself to get up from the chair and slowly make my to the bed. I look over her naked body. She slowly moves and turns over onto her back, her hand resting on her stomach, and her other hand is still underneath the pillow. So much pain, so much suffering, and I fucking want it all. I want to feel it all with her. She talked about the rage inside her, but what she doesn’t understand is that I suffer from the same rage. I can teach her how to control it, and I can teach her how to channel it.
I crawl onto the bed and lean down, kissing and licking up her leg. She moves and makes cute little noises, making me smile against her skin.
“Christian,” she whispers as I continue to make my way up her body. I stop and pull back a little as I position myself fully between her legs.
“I want dessert, bambino,” I whisper as I lean down. I start to suck on her clit; her pussy is already wet. She is constantly fucking wet for me, always fucking ready for me. I grab onto her throat with my left hand as I rest my right hand on her stomach. I start to lick between her folds, and her body starts to push into my face as my tongue goes down and enters her pussy. Her muscles tighten around my tongue, making me groan as I tighten my grip on her throat. I look up and watch her breathing start to increase as my tongue moves in and out of her.
She will never have to feel guilty or ashamed of the rage and pain inside her. She doesn’t need to run anymore. I am right fucking here, right here, and I am not going anywhere. I will kill anyone who hurts her. I will remove as many eyes and tongues as I need to make my fucking point that this broken woman is my queen, my mixture of chaos and understanding.
