Morally Ambiguous: A Dark Mafia Romance (Morally Questionable Book 4)

by Veronica Lancet

  "It seems we have a winner," he declares and a smug expression appears on my face. I don't even stop to think what might be happening to the ones who lost, basking in the praise Miles is offering me and knowing it is limited.

  As a mini celebration, Miles takes me to his office, offering me a glass of his precious bourbon and telling me his grand plans.

  "We're almost there, Vlad," he sighs happily. "I don't think I've ever seen someone as impressive as you, my boy. You've certainly surpassed my expectations."

  I just nod, taking in all the compliments and vowing to do better. Because while I'd been reluctant in the beginning, I now recognize that this isn't just about me.

  It's about revolutionizing science and the way humans are seen. It's simply evolution, and I aim to be at the top when these findings are made public.

  Certainly, in the beginning I'd thought Miles' ideas strange and a little irrational. But soon it had become clear that he was onto something.

  After repeated trials, my skin stopped hurting, the pain a slow echo reverberating in my brain, but one I could shut off. My mind too acquired a new focus as clarity started to filter through my old haze of emotions.

  He was right. Getting rid of feelings, and especially of fear, was liberating unlike anything. That coupled with the rush of adrenaline when I cut into flesh, dissected organs and played with tissue was almost godly.

  I'm smart enough to realize that there seems to be an inverse proportional relationship between my feelings and my hubris. As my emotions became muted, my arrogance grew, my vanity knowing no bounds.

  But that arrogance also made me the best, because it made me want to continually strive to be the best.

  "And now for your prize," Miles adds, getting up and showing me a poker with a metal circle at the top, the number one hundred etched inside.

  Going to his fireplace, he extends the metal into the fire, watching as it becomes hot, the material turning a deep red.

  "You've officially completed your one hundredth kill, my little miracle. It's time to celebrate," he drawls, taking the hot poker and motioning me to show him my skin.

  I don't even flinch as I tear down my neckline, grabbing on to my shirt and directing him to place it right in the middle of my chest.

  With a satisfied smile, he does, his happiness only growing as the smell of burned flesh permeates the air.

  As usual, there's a slight echo of pain, but I thrust it aside, focusing on this important day.

  It's late when I made it back to the sleeping quarters.

  Vanya is on her back, as usual, her stomach wounds still giving her trouble from the last experiment.

  Weak.

  I can't help it as my mind hones in on those words.

  She's weak. Not worthy.

  "V," I nod to her when she raises herself on her elbows to peer at me.

  "You were gone a long time, brother," she says in that sweet voice of hers and for a moment I feel an unfamiliar—almost forgotten—pang in my chest.

  "I won," I shrug, proudly showing her my brand.

  She doesn't react as I expect her to. She barely glances at me as she gathers her knees to her chest, placing her cheek on top of them and sighing deeply.

  I take a seat too, laying down on my side of the mattress.

  "I'm scared, brother," she whispers, her voice barely audible.

  Scared. Fear. Weakness.

  "Why?" I ask mechanically.

  "Change," she takes a deep breath, turning her eyes towards me. "Change is scary," she notes.

  "It's not," I answer a little more aggressively than intended. "Being static is scary. Change is good," I point out.

  "Until it's not..." she trails off, "because it doesn't have to be a good change. It can also be a bad change."

  "What are you getting at, Vanya?" I snap.

  "You, brother. You're changing. And I don't know if I like it," she murmurs, her voice small as she looks away from me.

  Without saying another word, she turns with her back to me, promptly ending the conversation.

  I stare at the ceiling of our still dirty cell, counting the spots of mold as I listen to Vanya's even breath as she sleeps.

  Change...

  Maybe she has a point. There are some moments of lucidity where I ask myself what I'm doing. But then I'm once again embroiled in Miles' fascinating world of science, murder, and morbid curiosities.

  And I let myself slip.

  "Vlad?" a voice calls out to me.

  My muscles are coiled with tension as I open my eyes, every fiber in my body charged with violence as the memories ring in my mind. Miles had had me wrapped around his little finger.

  I'd failed Vanya and I'd failed myself.

  One arrogant taste of blood and I'd succumbed, leaving everything behind in exchange for the pursuit of twisted knowledge in gratification of my pseudo-superior intellect.

  There's a nothingness inside of me that echoes in my chest, the imprint from the memories too strong, their hold on me even in my waking state too powerful.

  I turn to look at the source of the noise, my own mind a derelict place filled with screaming fragments and weeping bells, the ability to recognize reality dim.

  Her hair is so light, it looks like a ray of sun aiming to blind me, the urge to shield my eyes increasingly strong. A few strands of hair fall lightly down her forehead, framing a heart-shaped face.

  I feel another pang in my chest as I stare at her, a painfully beautiful sight that makes me suffocate, my lungs strained as air becomes trapped inside.

  She blinks, her eyes unusually light and quite possibly the most alluring sight I've seen in my life. Leaning forward, she places her hand on my cheek, her voice still ringing in my ears as she keeps on repeating my name.

  That small touch activates something inside of me.

  My nostrils flare as I take in her scent, a mix of clean soap and something that's inherently her. Like flowers on a new spring day, there's a sweetness that inundates my senses, my entire body shuddering as I close my eyes, simply inhaling.

  "Vlad," she calls out again, and my eyes snap open, narrowing as they move lower over her body.

  She's wearing a skimpy top that leaves nothing to the imagination, her tits full, her nipples pebbled. Moving lower, I note a small expanse of stomach peeking out from tight pants that accentuate shapely hips.

  My own pants become painfully tight, my mouth dry as the desert as I swallow uncomfortably.

  Need.

  There's a mounting need inside of me, and I only know I need her more than I need my next breath. There's something achingly familiar about her, and in a sea of nothingness, she's that small wave that crashes against my being.

  I only know that I need to own her, to make her so irrevocably mine that she can never escape me.

  And so without thinking, I let instinct take over, my body already knowing what it wants even as my mind struggles to keep up.

  My arm shoots out, settling against the small of her back and dragging her on top of me. She comes naturally, her legs on either side of mine as she straddles me.

  Eyes glazed, I can only watch her in fascination, my nose buried in the crook of her neck as I trail it up and down, wanting to imprint myself with her scent.

  Surprisingly, she doesn't put up a fight as I bring her even tighter against me, my senses overwhelmed by her presence as I seek to get my fill of her.

  I move my face up her neck, inhaling. Reaching her lips, I let my tongue trace the seam, licking my way to her cheek.

  My chest expands with unbearable tension, my cock so hard it could burn a hole through my pants. And she's not helping, squirming ever so slightly and aligning her pelvis right on top of my shaft.

  One hand on her nape, my fingers digging in her flesh, I bring her close to me, raising my gaze to let her see the storm brewing inside of me, a savageness waiting to be unleashed—with her the only target.

  Her pupils are dilated with desire, her rosy mouth parted as
she breathes hard, her ass moving slightly over my erection, her lashes fluttering up and down in a hypnotizingly seductive move.

  Holding eye contact, I lower my mouth to her chest, taking one nipple between my teeth, letting my tongue wet the bud through her shirt.

  She pushes her tits further into my face, practically begging me to lavish them with attention. A pained, guttural sound escapes me, needing to be closer to her. No, demanding to be closer to her.

  Her soft whimpers caress my ears, her little movements only serving to make me more unstable.

  Using my tongue, I leave a wet trail from the valley of her breasts to her neck and finally to her face. She's at my mercy as she gives me those pouty lips, allowing me to sample everything she has to offer.

  Taking her lower lip between my teeth, I nibble at it, all the while watching every play of emotion on her face, attuned to everything that is her.

  I don't necessarily understand what's happening to me, but I give myself over to this insanity that's threatening to burst out of me.

  Holding her closer, I suck her tongue in my mouth, exploring the depths of her mouth and wondering at the way my body responds. My cock swells even more in my pants, and I feel the tip leaking, my balls heavy and almost painful.

  Her lips close over mine, deepening the kiss as she lets me swallow her whole, the urgency of the kiss making me sweat with impatience and anticipation. Her tongue plays with mine, letting me take the lead as I chase and she retreats, each stroke sending a bolt of lightning to my cock and making it twitch against my zipper.

  Her fingers on my upper arms, her nails are digging in my skin.

  I trail my hands down her back until I reach her ass, palming the bountiful globes and enjoying their weight as I knead them, bringing her pussy closer to my crotch and letting her grind on me harder.

  But even that is not enough as I feel something overtake me, an insane animalistic instinct that demands that I take her.

  Fuck her so hard and deep that she loses sight of life and death, of me and her, or anything else.

  My hands on the material of her pants, I grab roughly on to the edge, pulling the seams apart and ripping the fabric.

  I don't know what I'm doing. I only know that I need to be inside her.

  She gasps, but she doesn't move away, helping me divest of her pants—or what's left of them. Her musky scent of arousal invades my senses and makes me lose my mind. My hand goes between her legs to find her soaked, more moisture dripping from her entrance as I play with her.

  "Mmm," her sexy sounds do nothing but increase my urgency as I more or less rip the zipper of my pants in my attempt to get them off.

  My dick bounces out, so fucking hard and growing even harder as I know her pussy's waiting for me. Pre-cum leaking from the tip, I swipe my finger over the head, combining our juices, bringing it up to her lips.

  Her eyes widen, but she wraps those full lips around my finger, sucking it and swirling her tongue around it.

  I groan out loud, that sight enough to bring me over the edge.

  My entire body is strained, and I know I can't waste another second.

  My fingers digging into her ass cheeks, I lift her over my erection, impaling her in one thrust.

  A low moan escapes her as I push into her body, feeling the way she squeezes the life out of me, her tight little body taking me so deep my balls meet her ass, a loud sound reverberating through the air as flesh meets flesh.

  "Fuck," I curse out, clarity and confusion both making their home in my mind.

  Like a man possessed, I grip her hips tightly, barreling into pussy with such an intensity the head of my cock slams against the back of her womb.

  Head thrown back she releases a strangled moan as she grips my arms even tighter for support.

  "Sisi," I hear my own voice as I say her name, my thrusts increasing in speed.

  Deep down I know I'm not being gentle, too much aggression rolling off me as I maneuver her around.

  But even that isn't enough.

  I need deeper. Faster. Harder.

  "Yes," she cries out as I stand up, taking her with me, her body still sliding up and down my length. She's so fucking wet, her juices are all over my dick and pooling over my balls.

  Still holding on to her waist, I settle her on a table, her back hitting the cold surface as I practically tear her top apart.

  I watch enthralled as her tits bounce up and down with every thrust, and I can't help myself as my hands close over them, playing with her nipples.

  "Fucking hell, Sisi," I grunt, her eyes half closed, her breath hitching every time I hit deep within her womb, "I don't think I've been harder in my life," I tell her, my own breathing ragged.

  The marks left by my hands are already showing on her body, deep, red finger marks that show she's been handled roughly and it only makes me want to brand her further.

  "Vlad," she starts, barely able to talk, my thrusts increasing in speed, the table quaking under the assault. Coupled with the fact that we're in air, the sensation is completely mind-blowing. "It's too much," she breathes out, "too good... too..."

  She's out of control as her cries intensify, her hands gripping the edge of the table as she tries to ground herself, each violent thrust threatening to send her off the table.

  I trail one hand over her stomach and down to her pussy.

  Seeing her pretty lips opening up for me and swallowing me whole has me over the edge.

  "Feel this, hell girl," I take her hand and bring it to the base of my cock. "Feel how I'm fucking you."

  She wraps her small fingers over my thickness, feeling the slippery mess made by her pussy as she moves her hand up and down my length, jerking me off just as the tip moves in circular motions at her entrance, stretching her and stimulating the sensitive area.

  "Feel how your pussy's taking me so fucking deep," I grab her hand again, this time pressing it over her lower stomach at the same time as I fully surge inside her, her legs wrapping around my waist as my balls slap against her ass.

  I let her feel the contour of my dick through her belly, the head poking slightly every time I thrust into her.

  "You're so big..." she whimpers, looking down at her stomach and the way my cock molds to her insides "God, I feel you in my soul," she sighs, her head hitting the table and thrashing to the side. I make a tsk sound at her, alerting her of her mistake.

  "What did I say about god?" I ask her playfully.

  I flick my thumb over her clit, teasing it slowly, her back arching on the table, her entire body going slack. Her walls contract around me, gripping me tightly, her sudden release making her scream for mercy.

  "Not yet, hell girl. Not yet," I chuckle as I see a flush envelop her entire body, her face red as she breathes hard, incoherent sounds slipping past her lips.

  "Now, who's your god?" I continue to pet her little clit, enjoying the way she keeps on spasming, begging me to stop.

  "You. Only you," she pants, "you're my god. My everything," she ends on a gasp as another orgasm claims her.

  She's so fucking responsive, coming so alive in my arms.

  And I have only one goal in life—seeing to her pleasure. And that means I'm never going to stop. Not until she's had so many orgasms, she can hardly move. That's the only evidence I need to know I'm doing my job right.

  "And you're mine," she turns her hand to wrap it around my own as she looks into my eyes, so much emotion welling in her gaze. "You're all mine," she repeats.

  "Yes, hell girl," I give her hand a quick squeeze, "all yours. Body and soul," I tell her, watching the lazy smile that pulls at her lips, her entire face lighting up and making my own frozen heart melt.

  She has the power to turn me to dust. And with one smile she has the power to make me indomitable.

  Only with her by my side do I feel like I can conquer the world.

  It's funny how I've always been a cocky bastard, but it wasn't until her that I understood what true confidence really meant.<
br />
  Her love for me gave me hope. And my love for her gave me the confidence I needed to push through.

  I'm so focused on her that I barely hear my phone ringing. Mid-thrust, I stop briefly to check the caller ID, realizing it's Nero.

  Frowning, I wonder what could possibly be so important since he's never contacted me directly before.

  A quick glance at my girl, naked and all spread out on the table, and I know I can't disappoint her.

  My lips tug up as I accept the call, setting it on speaker and placing the phone on the table before sheathing myself inside her body again.

  "Vlad," Nero speaks, his voice loud in the small plane.

  Sisi's eyes widen when she sees what I did, and she tries to disentangle herself from me. I don't let her move as I prop one hand in place on her hip, bringing her pussy flush against the base of my cock and ensuring I'm balls deep inside of her before I put my other hand over her mouth, knowing she can't keep quiet.

  "Yes," I reply, trying to sound unaffected even as I continue to fuck my girl. The only noise in the room are those of skin against skin, the slippery wetness produced by her pussy enhancing the sounds.

  Sisi looks embarrassed, but also turned on, her body eagerly seeking mine as she pushes herself into me every time I slow my thrusts.

  "I remembered something slightly off about the orphanage my brother and I were in," he says, and my little minx has the gall to bite my finger off.

  A smile threatens to form on my face at her audacity. Still keeping my hand on her mouth, I muffle her sounds as I grab her hip, tugging her closer. Slipping completely out of her, I rub the underside of my cock over her clit, watching the way her eyes seem to flutter closed, her mouth open under my palm.

  "Since we were recruited for Project Humanitas right from there, I thought I'd inquire a little to see if they know anything."

  "Go on," I prompt him, my voice a little strained.

  "The headmistress had changed, of course, but I was able to talk her into showing me their archive," he continues.

  "And?"

  "There wasn't much, but I found a picture of my brother and me. I've sent it to you just now. It's from one of the Christmas celebrations that the orphanage organized every year in conjunction with some church," he says and I frown.