War of A Rose

War of a Rose • Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-four
Rosaelia

Alessio kept caressing my face long after I had spoken. Those blue orbs simply stared down at me, basking in the quietness, admiring my tear and drool-soaked face. Hooking his fingers under my chin, he cocks his head to the side, "Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you look while killing a man?" His thumb hovers over my lips, "It's a ravishing sight, but nothing compares to how ethereal you look with my dick down your throat."

I swallow hard at his words, unable to think of a response. At least any that will not serve to betray me. Alessio had too much power over me right now. One wrong move and all of my self-control would be out of the window. My self-respect had long disappeared. I had to hold onto this. Or else I would crumble.

When I said nothing, his touch withdrew. His warmth is gone. I didn't watch him walk away from me. I squeezed my eyes shut, still on my knees where he had left me. I didn't have a plan for how long I would sit on my floor. I just knew that I couldn't bring myself to get up. Especially not after Alessio left me to clean up my own mess. My tears were drying on my cheeks, and my drool on my neck and chin. Everything is still sticky from him. Still, I don't feel dirty. Just empty. He had that cruel ability where he could make me feel so complete, so full, and then so unbearably hollow.

New tears were brewing beneath my closed eyelids, and this time I did not want to hold them back. I sucked in a deep breath, straightening my back just to crumple forward as soon as I breathed out. My cries tear through my throat as I wrap my arms around myself, unable to process the fact that Alessio had just used me for his pleasure and left me covered in his release, too similar to how my father's men left me naked on the floor, painted with their rotten seed.

"Why are you crying, little rose?" That deep voice questioned from across the room. I snap my eyes open to find Alessio standing in the doorway of my bathroom, a wet washcloth in his hands. A savage sob wracks my body. Not because Alessio had left me but because he had come back. And no matter how much I wanted to hate him for being the reason why I was broken on the floor, I couldn't because he was also the reason I would get off this floor. He would pick me up and piece me back together whether he planned to break me again or not.

In seconds, he was across the room and on the floor with me. Using the wet washcloth, he wiped the tears from my cheeks. Ridding the stickiness of his cum from my skin.

"What are you doing, Alessio?"

"You clean my mess," He pauses wiping to brush my curls behind my ear, "I clean yours."

I searched those ice-colored eyes, unable to breathe when they caught mine. Any thoughts that had been thundering inside my brain were wiped away when he used that rag to wipe my tears. I only knew one thing. I don't want to feel empty again.

Alessio did not get a chance to stand and walk away. I lean forward and crash my lips against his before he even thinks about leaving me again. I kiss him fiercely, desperately. Needing to feel whole again. When he does not kiss me back, I feel small, inferior, and almost tempted to pull away. I don't. I can't feel like that again. Not right now. I grip the collar of his white button-up and pull him into me.

I break the kiss just for a moment, "Kiss me. I cannot feel empty right now. Not with you, Alessio." So he did. His hand shot around my waist as he hoisted me onto his lap, our kiss never breaking, not even to breathe.

In this moment, I didn't care to. I was ready to lose my last breath in his mouth. And by the way, he held me against him; I knew he was too. It didn't matter how wrong this was or how we would regret it later. In this moment, he was the only thing keeping my broken shards together. I know that tomorrow he will be the reason they come undone, but right now, right here, he is holding them together, uncaring that my jagged pieces were breaking him too.