A Beautiful Crime

Chapter 24

Constantine POV

Carina meets me halfway as our lips reunite in a violent crash of hunger and desperation. Those lips I have been dying to get another taste of open with no resistance.

I thrust my tongue in her mouth, tilting her head to kiss her deeper, harder.

There's a rush to my head. Heat runs like lava through my veins and there's an animalistic need. A need to own her mouth. A need to devour her whole. An archaic need to thrust into her wet and tight cunt and claim her as mine.

Her fingers wrap like vines in my tousled hair as her nails dig into my scalp.

The slight bite of pain has my cock swelling.

My tongue fucks her mouth in a way that has my cock weeping. Without finesse. With a wild abandon and fervor so strong it could ruin us both.

I grind my painful erection against her. I groan as I can already feel the heat and wetness of her cunt through the thin fabric of her clothes. She moans in my mouth and I swallow the delicious sound.

And while I may be called the Devil with her lips kissing mine in an equal fervor I feel like a fucking god.

As our lips finally break apart, panting and swollen, her eyes meet mine with everything I have longed to see.

They're alive in a way they have never been before. Emeralds shinning brightly up at me with clarity, admiration and strength. They're speaking to me with truths I long to hear from her lips.

There is a gentleness, a tenderness I will never share with anyone else as I press my lips against hers once more.

She sighs against my lips. A happy sound I wish to record to play over and over again.

Holding her with the utmost care I go to brush my knuckle against the flushed skin of her cheek but stop short, remembering they're busted wide open.

Blood pours from the wounds. And as I come down from the high of our kiss I noticed I've painted her in red.

And while blood play has never been a kink of mine I can see the appeal of it.

I've marked her, claimed her, in the most primal way possible.

It has my cock the hardest it has ever been.

As if a spell has been lifted her eyes grow concerned once again when they see my knuckles.

And fuck if that doesn't turn me on as well.

Carina Fiore, no, fuck that, Carina Donati, is a walking living breathing aphrodisiac.

Her hands, soft and gentle, take one of mine in hers. She holds it up to eye level inspecting the open wounds. Her eyes then drift to my shirt. Going over all the places the blood had splattered. She's searching for more wounds but she'll find none.

Unlike moments before I allow her to care for me.

How long has it been since another soul has cared for me?

Too long to remember.

And I must admit, the affection has me in a chokehold.

Her hands move methodically. They unbutton the material of my shirt with a precision that has my skin being untouched. And when the final button is undone she slides the material away.

I stand before her, chest bare. My heart feels as if it could beat right out of my chest. One touch of her skin on mine will have me undone.

Her eyes take in the sight of me. The mattered dark curls of hair dusting my chest. The many of scars concealed beneath them that one can't see unless they're up close.