Darkness Is The Only Light: Mafia Romance (18+)

Chapter 53 | Isn't it pretty? How affection dances with abuse

The morning light creeps through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room, illuminating my eyelids. I stir, slowly starting to stretch whilst a groan escapes my lips and I become aware of the throb pulsing through my body. Suddenly I remember. Even though I am back in my room, laying in my own bed, each movement is a reminder of what happened in the middle of the night.

Oh, he's been rough.

I keep still for a moment, gathering my thoughts and strenght to rise on my feet. With a deep breath, I push against the mattress, the world tilting slightly as I sit up. The room swims into focus, and I pause, waiting for the wave of dizziness to pass, blinking repeatedly.

Despite the aches that greeted me with the dawn, a wide smile soon finds its way to my face as memories of the previous night once again flash through my head. The pain was a small price to pay for the joy that bubbles within me, stinging of my lips and aching of my marked skin becomes irrelevant.

I stretch, wincing slightly, but the discomfort is overshadowed by the warmth that the memories brought. Pushing myself on my feet I stumble forwards the moment I feel the ground beneath me, my legs all wobbly and soft, pain striking through my labia and the memories it brings make me all hot, blushing like and idiot.

I let out a chuckle at my own sillyness and somehow limp towards the bathroom, knowing a warm shower would soothe the symphony of aches in my private area.

Glancing at my naked self in the mirror, I am both shocked and stunned at the same time. My chest is covered in dark violet marks, purple necklace frosting my neck and collar bone, my breasts are littered with hickeys while my hips, waist and thighs are scattered with violet and blue imprints of his rough hands, every harsh grip now showing as a dark bruise. Looking upwards I see two cuts dancing on my bottom lip.

I almost look like my old self... my body is certainly used of violet color dancing on my pale skin. But I don't feel like I used to, I'm not shattered and scared and empty.

This is not abuse.

He is rough and sometimes he gets rougher, it's the way he is. I just have to accept it and suck it up a little bit.

Because every second of pain is worth it if I'm being cradled and cuddled later. My cheeks catch on fire and my heart flutters in my chest as I remember the nice moment we shared last night. My mind feels a little fuzzy when I try to recall it, which I find oddly weird, along with my strange behavior, but that might as well be just my imagination. My mind sometimes refuses to cooperate, but nonetheless I remember the important things.

He petted and caressed me with his big veiny hands and embraced me with his bulky body and then he smiled at me. And we were kissing so nicely and gently and I never wanted for it to stop. It was everything. I craved his affection and he gave it to me, I would do anything for him in that moment. He was so gentle with me and I felt increadibly safe. Somehow I think I remember that he was the only thing that mattered to me, I just wanted to be close to him and the thought of him leaving frightened me to my core.

Hm... well, when I think about it now, that is pretty strange, isn't it? It feels kind of blurry, but I remember the terrible ache in my chest when he suggested on taking me back to my room. Thank God that I was allowed to stay.

Overthinking my last night's actions probably won't help with anything so I rather hop into shower and gently scrub my body, making sure I don't put too much presure on aching areas and let the warm water soothe my private parts.

After the shower I put on my maid uniform, I finally got the medium size so I don't have to fight the skirt over my butt and don't have to squeeze my breasts when buttoning up my shirt. Then I leave my room, ready to start my shift.