Kalina never knew much about her family, only that she had brothers, a mother and a father who never wanted her. After the abuse her mother put her through, Kalina was broken beyond repair. With the help from a motorcycle gang she built herself back...
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When I was little, my mother used to beat me. It started small, a slap here and there. But then one day, I was brought home early from school by one of the guards while I was ill, and saw her cheating on my father.
I was only four when Daniel was born, but right from the beginning I knew he was not my father's son. It was obvious in the slight changes of his features. Father didn't pick up on it however, since he looked so similar to his brother. I only noticed since I'd seen my mother and uncle shagging whenever father left the house. Having Mateo explain where babies came from as well helped me realise.
Both my mother and uncle would always slap, punch, kick me till I was so broken I didn't have the will to tell my father. Father, at the time he was Don, had entrusted his wife to care for his children when he couldn't. He never saw the bruises, as mother would bathe me on a night, and the ones he did see, mother came up with the perfect excuses.
After father find out about the affair, and that Daniel wasn't his son, but his nephew, he was still blindly in love and was willing to make the marriage work. So I told him about all the abuse I had suffered at her hand. He filed for divorce the next day.
Compared to what Kalina told us last night, I got merely a scratch. If I had just kept my mouth shut, father wouldn't have divorced mother, and he would've known she was pregnant with Kalina and not just Tommaso.
"Stop it." The muffled voice said.
Turning my head, I saw his slightly tanned cheek resting on the pillow. Strands of blonde hair was flopping forward and falling into his dark eyes, that stared up at me with a kindness I was rarely shown.
"I'm not doing anything." I replied, turning on my side to look at him properly.
"You're blaming yourself for Kalina." He reached out and placed a hand on my cheek, a small smile on his face.
"Because it's my fault. If I'd just kept my mouth shut-"
"Stop." He demanded, a sternness in his tone. "You were right to tell Christopher of what happened. And besides, I prefer your mouth open."
I chuckled at the cheeky grin that formed on his face, watching his eyes dance with both mischief and lust. Rolling so I was ontop on him, I ran my hands through his hair, before gripping onto it tightly.
Leaning down, I met my lips with his own, roughly kissing him as he tried to take control. When our tongues fought for dominance, and I won as always, a smirk made its way onto my face.
"Dick." He mumbled as our lips parted, the two of us greedily inhaling as much oxygen as we could.
"Dick." I chuckled, mocking his accent "Is that you asking or?" I laughed as he smacked my chest.
He rolled us over and lent down, a grin on his face as he began stroking my dick, his own visibly hard beneath the material of his boxers.
