Everything is perfect to me. Magical. Beautiful. So intense that it feels like a delirium.
The memory of her naked body flashes through my head and my dick hardens further. I’m an addict. I will be addicted to her forever.
I should do something rational now, I guess.
People talk when they are in a relationship, but I have no idea what I should tell her. I’ve already mentioned that I’ll look after her and that didn’t make her less scared of me. What words can evoke that beautiful smile of hers more often?
Fuck talking. I’ll take her for a walk tomorrow, buy her more clothes, take her to the cinema. Find a suitable place for her own small gallery. An image flashes through my mind. I know where I can find a suitable room for such a purpose.
I watch TV for a while, then go upstairs and slip under the comforter beside Sive. She is breathing regularly as I stare at her like a rapt teenager, holding my weight up on my elbow.
“You belong to me,” I murmur, clenching my fists. “Only to me.”
I drop off to sleep a moment later and wake up before Sive. Slipping in my jeans, I correct the comforter around her and go downstairs to grab a slice of bread.
I make myself ready in a few minutes and hurry to the garage. The noises drift to my ears from inside, so the boys must have already started. I enter through the back door and bounce off Boulder.
“What are you doing here?” I growl as my eyes flick over his t-shirt marked with grease and petrol.
“You are busy so I’m helping in the garage,” Boulder says.
Zane peers from behind a car’s back. “Somebody must run the garage.”
“I run the garage,” I say. “But I have to do something in the town first.”
“Like what for example?” Boulder smirks. “Like buying more pairs of stockings?”
Gunner and Dash desert their positions and come closer to us. They lower their heads, hiding their grins.
“No,” I say. “I need to visit crazy Ziggy and ask whether he would be happy to rent his old tobacco shop to me.”
Ziggy is almost ninety and he ran his tobacco shop before a stroke made him unable to do that. He’s moving, using a wheeled frame or sometimes a wheelchair, and has slight difficulty when talking.
“What do you need this shop for?” Zane asks.
“I thought about a gallery for Sive,” I say.
“A gallery for Sive?” Boulder mimics my voice and the boys guffaw.
“Any problem with that?” I jut my chin out.
The boys shake their heads and raise their hands as Boulder rubs his palms against his jeans.
“And what after that gallery?” Boulder asks. “Marriage? Three children?”
“I don’t know yet,” I bark. “I just want to set up a gallery for her.”
Boulder shakes his head and shoves my arm. “Let’s go.”
“Where?” I sway, turning my face to him.
“To Ziggy’s,” Boulder says. “He won’t talk to you, but he will talk to me.”
I don’t protest. Ziggy is a mean eccentric who thinks that very few people deserve his attention. Ma says sometimes that his meanness was born out of his despair after losing his wife and daughter in a car crash. He’s a member of the Shadow Wolves MC, but hasn’t attended any meeting for years.
Boulder and I jump on our bikes and roar through the town. After a fifteen minutes’ ride, we park in front of a devastated wooden house surrounded by dry deadness. Indian bells hang from the roof and interrupt the eerie silence of the area with their soft sound.
Ziggy is sitting in the armchair on the veranda, a half-empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. His chequered red shirt wears stains and his trousers have holes. We climb the stairs that scrunch like they will crumble into pieces at any moment and his scent hits me. He smells of alcohol and pigs or cows. Or something of an animal origins.
“Get out, you fucking burglars,” Ziggy mumbles. His brown translucent eyes flicker with hostility and his alcoholic face burns like fire.
“Can’t you recognise me, you old git?” Boulder says.
“Is that you, Boulder?” Ziggy leans slightly forward. “Come closer.”
Boulder moves closer and pats Ziggy’s shoulder.
“Who is with you?” Ziggy asks and coughs. It sounds like he has thick glue in his lungs.
“My son, Axel.”
“What do you want?” Ziggy growls.
“Well,” Boulder says. “We are interested in renting your tobacco shop.”
“No fucking way,” Ziggy growls.
I open my mouth to say something, but Boulder shakes his head and shoots me a warning glance.
“A beautiful girl wants to open her gallery there,” Boulder says.
“Who cares,” Ziggy says.
“A beautiful disabled girl who doesn’t talk,” Boulder says. “She’s eighteen.”
Ziggy clenches his fists and snorts. “I don’t care.”
“Really?” Boulder tilts his head and lays his hand on Ziggy’s shoulder. “A disabled girl, Ziggy. Have a heart.”
Ziggy shoves his hand into the pocket of his trousers and takes out keys. They clatter as he separates one from the rest and throws it at me. The key lands at my feet and I stifle an urge to twist his neck.
“I’ll give you five hundred a month,” I say through gritted teeth.
“I don’t want your fucking money,” Ziggy growls and adds in a calmer voice. “For the disabled girl.” He strokes his unshaven cheek. “Get out before I change my mind.”
“Amanda will pick you up tomorrow at five,” Boulder says. “Blaze is inviting you over for a barbeque.”
“No fucking way I’m going to attend this circus,” Ziggy says.
“At five,” Boulder says and pats Ziggy’s back. “And have a bath.”
Ziggy waves his hand like he wants to kill a fly as Boulder joins me, cocks his head towards our bikes, and we evacuate ourselves from Ziggy’s land.
We roar towards the tobacco shop and park at its back. Plastic containers layer the ground and patches of dry vegetation contribute to the impression of gloom and devastation.
Boulder and I walk towards the front door, remove the wooden boards blocking it, and enter a dark space. The air carries putrid smells of rot, rats and dirt.
“A lot of work,” Boulder says. “Deal with it. I’m going to help in the garage.”
“Thanks,” I say.
“How is she?”
“Sive? I don’t know.”
Boulder nods. “We will entertain her tomorrow.”
“I’m entertaining her enough,” I say wryly.
I’m using her selfishly, punishing her without mercy, and I can’t stop doing that.
Chapter 18
Sive
It must be after midnight as a warm breeze drifting across my throat wakes me up. My eyes open slowly, but I can’t see anything at first. A grey fog blurs my vision and my eyelids feel like there is glue between them. Heat and wetness spread across my throat and a masculine scent settles in my nostrils. This scent makes my heart race and causes warmth to fill my tummy.
“Sive,” Axel says.
I rub my eyes and notice that he is sitting, cross-legged, on the floor. I sit up and lean back against the couch, wrapping the blanket around my body.
“Sive, thank you for the lunch. And for the dinner. And for the supper.” He smells of shower gel and his hair is damp. “The boys wolfed down your curry and asked for more.”
I cooked for the whole day and delivered the lunch to the garage, but Axel was not there. Zane agreed to do some shopping for me and delivered the bags within an hour. I cooked more food and waited for Axel in the house, but he did not return on time. Then I cooked even more food and cried until it was time to go to bed. I decided to sleep on the couch.
“I’ve rented a place suitable for your own gallery, Sive. You will have your own gallery, here in the town.” Axel’s palm lands on the back of his neck as he shoves his other hand into the p
ocket of his jeans and shows me a key. “I’ll need a few days to tidy up this place for your purpose.” He puts the key on the coffee table behind him.
My eyes widen and my heart skips a beat. He wants to get rid of me. I should start packing my clothes.
“Tha-nkk you,” I say and rise to my feet. Tears prick my eyes and I drop my head to hide my despair from Axel.
Why are women so sensitive and cry about every tiny problem in their life? It’s ridiculous.
“Sive, are you okay?”
I nod, pull the blanket over my head and jerk my body forward, but Axel’s arms brace me from behind. He tugs the blanket off my head as his chest moulds against my back. Then he holds my chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning my face to his.
“What’s wrong, baby? I thought you would be happy.”
“I-I amm.”
“You are crying of happiness?”
I nod and flash him a smile so he won’t think I’m ungrateful because I’m very grateful for his effort. Except my rational goals contradict the yearning in my heart and the fire in my body. I don’t care whether I’m jobless, homeless or disabled. I just want to feel his lips against mine, to have his palms on my breasts, to have his cock inside me. Forever.
“I don’t know what to do,” Axel mutters, then pulls my hair together and winds it around his fist.
I hiss in pain as he pulls my hair down and kisses my neck. The blanket falls onto the floor with a quiet puff and I bring my fists up to my chest.
“I don’t know what to do,” Axel growls into my ear.
He sounds like he’s angry.
His fingers lower the strap of my nightdress, exposing my breast, and he pinches my nipple. The pain from his touch causes flutters of desire to diffuse into my veins. My pussy clenches with need. My body surrenders to his demand, but my rationality makes me pull forward.
“Sive,” Axel rasps as our feet tangle with the blanket, and I fall forward.
He supports me as I gently land on all fours and feel him right behind me. His hands touch my lower back, then move down and shove my ass so I lie down on my stomach, sprawled on the wrinkled blanket.
The sound of fabric tearing startles me as my panties fall off me and Axel moves atop me, crushing my body with his. He parts my thighs with his knee and drives his hard cock into me. I stiffen with pain, but it’s better than previously. The pain is pleasant, arousing.
“Fuck,” Axel says as though he’s gritted his teeth. “It’s so good. It’s so good in your hot little pussy. You’re so tight.” He grinds his hips against my ass and a little whimper comes out of my mouth. “Just relax, baby, and take me.” His hand slips under my tummy and he lifts me so I will kneel in front of him, impaled on his cock, and panting.
My hands seek support so he turns us towards the couch, and I clutch the edge of the seat cushion. Axel kisses my temple and his fingers brush my tummy then move down to my pussy. He gathers up my nightdress and rubs my clitoris with his thumb. Flutters of pleasure waver through me and mingle with the stretching pain he’s causing me. My elbows bend and Axel encircles me with his arm to prevent me from falling forward. There is more heat in my tummy and more throbbing between my legs as he massages my clitoris in circles and suddenly, I have no control over my primal instincts. My body wants more and more and faster and faster and my ass pushes against his hips. I want it rough. I want the pain. I want this dirty pleasure to consume me.
Axel moves inside me, strokes my clitoris harder, carries me higher and higher, my body tauter and tauter. I cry out my need for release, digging my fingers into the couch. It’s like I’m ascending in delirium then falling a bit, rising again, almost touching my peak and descending again. Axel works my clitoris expertly and thrusts into me faster, bringing me closer and closer to my ultimate ecstasy until my back arches and my whole being shatters.
My head has a dense fog as a strong palm grips the back of my neck and my cheek rests against the blanket. My ass is in the air as Axel thrusts into me. He works me hard and fast as my body rocks back and forth. He goes deeper and deeper until I’m nothing more than this painful divine sensation of being fucked without mercy. Of being full and stretched. Of two bodies being one.
My cries are laced with hoarseness as he pounds into me even harder and stiffens behind me, moaning his satisfaction. There is something magical in this moment, elemental, and ultimately intimate.
Axel’s palm slides from my neck and I lift myself to all fours, then turn to him sitting on my heels. He rolls his eyes in a haze and zips his jeans up, then stretches his legs and pulls me to him. Our lips meet and we melt into one another.
Axel growls into my mouth. “My little mermaid.” He rises to his feet, cradling me in his arms like a child.
“A-xel,” I say and stroke his cheek.
My whole facial skin was scratched by the unshaven roughness of his, but it’s a nice feeling. His seed is dripping from me, but I ignore that.
I want him to tell me what all of that means, but he only tightens the embrace around me and carries me to bed. To our bed. He strips and we lie on our sides, facing each other.
“A-xel.”
“What, baby? You want something to drink?”
I shake my head.
“So sleep.” He strokes my hair and kisses my forehead. “I love you, ya know, you are everything to me.”
My heart skips a beat, then starts pounding. I’m not sure whether I heard him properly. Maybe my brain just imagined that because I wanted to hear those words so badly. I take a deep breath and his mouth covers mine.
“That’s okay, Sive, one day you’ll love me too. I’ll make you love me.”
I want to scream but my body tenses and my breathing becomes convulsive. I hate it. My hands search for his body to reassure him at least this way and I cling to him with such strength like my life depends on that.
“You will have your gallery,” Axel murmurs, “and you’ll cook for me. And I will take care of the rest. Sleep. We are going to Blaze’s place in the afternoon. For a barbeque.”
I close my eyes, but we kiss and my body demands more. I run my palms up and down Axel’s back and he kisses me deeper, frantically, then moves on top of me, spreading my folded legs wide apart, and enters me in one firm thrust. I almost come at the sensation of being rooted like this. My ankles cross on his back as I pull him to me and bury my face into his neck. He pumps into me as my body rocks beneath his. It’s too rough, too fast so I dig my fingers into his back and bite on his shoulder to stifle my cries.
Axel fucks me relentlessly until I rise into forgetfulness. He growls his pleasure and collapses on me, knocking the air out of my lungs. My mind drifts into oblivion.
Axel
I watch her and everything is so clear to me. I can’t imagine myself how it was before. When she wasn’t present in my life. When I didn’t love her.
I love Sive for everything that makes her her. Or maybe I just want to love her. Fuck it. The conclusion is the same. I want that mute chick to stay in my bed forever.
Tomorrow, I’ll take care of her properly. I’ll worship her body at night because she deserves that. It will not be like before. Before it was my desperate attempt to keep her close to me. To lose myself in the peace her body entangled with mine was giving me.
I’m so selfish that it intrigues me. My need to own her is endless. I gave her no choice and I’m not going to. She. Is. Mine. Period.
I have a nap but it’s like being aware and drifting among blurry images in my head. Like my mind is desperately clawing at the state of awareness. Like there is a subconscious fear inside me that I’ll fall asleep, wake up after, and Sive won’t be lying beside me.
Greyness spreads across the bedroom as the world freezes in the transition between day and night. Sive rolls on her side with her back towards me and my palm moves down along her arm to the indent of her waist and over her ass, tasting and memorising her lush softness. Pale pink paints her cheeks and a few droplets of swea
t shine between her breasts.
My fingers close around my hard cock and I move closer to her. I need her one more time, just for a moment so I line up my cock with her entrance and enter her in one firm thrust. I don’t even try to be gentle. The animal in me needs it rough to shake all the doubts and fears off my head. Sive shudders and her pussy clamps around me. Her wide unconscious eyes meet mine and a little whimper comes out of her mouth.
I tumble her on the stomach and push into her harder. She smells of sex, of me; she is dirty, marked by me, and it makes me feel insane.
I fuck her selfishly, enjoying every small whimper she emits, and my orgasm rolls over me like a violent avalanche.
Sive hums my name as I enclose her with my body and fall asleep at once.
Heat and a delicious smell wake me up. The bedroom smells of home. My body jerks up and my eyes roam over the bed. Sive is not beside me.
“Sive, where are you? I growl with fury.
I jump out of the bed and slip into my jeans, then go downstairs and notice that Sive is bustling around the kitchen as two homemade cakes on the table plead me to taste them. I go to the bathroom, brush my teeth then join Sive. She beams as I lean over the cakes and attempt to grab a piece. Sive grips my arm and tells me something in sign language. I’m pretty sure that she’s swearing at me.
“Just a tiny piece,” I say.
Sive growls and shakes her head, then hands a plate with scrambled eggs to me. I sit at the table and eat my breakfast as she spreads a piece of paper at my right elbow. My eyes flick over her handwriting. It says:
Can you inform me in advance about your decisions about my life? It will make my life less surprising.
“Sure,” I say with a full mouth. “Any other issues?”
Another letter speaks to me:
Can you stop fucking me like an animal? I can’t move.
“I love you like this, Sive, and I will fuck you like an animal.”
Another letter. It’s getting funny. I read it and my heart leaps.
Sive: Shadow Wolves MC Page 10