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THIS STARTS FROM AFTER THE HONEYMOON PHASE! THEY HAVE NO CURRENT CHILDREN!!!!
A L E X A N D R A | N I C O L A I D E S
MATURE 🔞
Forever I will be in that moment, my hands scarlet and sticky.
The blood has concentrated in the folds of my knuckles making the usually pale creases dark.
The congealed red-brown fluid had become caught in the webbing of my fingers.
Oh no.
What have I done?
What have I done?
The crimson-coloured liquid that drenched through the cotton sheets, I could tell that not only did it stain my hands. It stained my heart. I slowly slide of the bed, hearing the laughter coming from the living room, signalling to me that they are here.
It is my tears that keep my soul alive in the furnace of this pain.
They cannot extinguish what has been, yet only carry me forward until a time comes when that searing pain is distant enough to forget more than remember, and maybe one day erase itself from my brain. My feet make contact with the wooden floors, I begin my walk down to the living room.
My eyes stuck to my hands; I try to hold my tears behind the barriers of my lids. Once I reach the living room, I hear the laughter dying down. My eyes lift up and make contact with Ares. Adonis and Alastair swiftly drop the things in their hands as Ares takes slow steps towards me.
Shock creeps into his eyes.
Oh no...
A FEW MONTHS EARLIER
I have a strong obsession with Ares.
I love many things about him: I love watching him work, I love watching him undress, I love watching him drink his favourite scotch, I love it when he fucks me senseless, I love it when he hardens the moment, I even touch him.
He was an obsession that was secretly made for me, and I to him.
I was the Angelos to his Diávolos at the end of the day.
I keep painting on the apartment's floor while gazing out towards the floor to ceiling windows at the city view, making sure to catch every skyscraper I can see.
All of the paintings hanging on the wall were mine, and they would shortly be displayed in a gallery. Where they should be. For the gallery open day, I simply need to finish a few more paintings before representing them.
I am finally a qualified artist, and all thanks to the support of my husband.
I hear the apartment doors open; my head turns a little to see Ares hanging his jacket on the cloak stool. "No, I said to sell the parlour for six million. I'm investing in Adonis' club." I hear a crackle of keys being chucked into the glass bowl, and his footsteps inching towards me.
I suddenly feel him behind me, I look up as he crouches down to kiss me on the lips gently. I smile. "Alright, I'll call you later then to seal it. Goodbye." He ends the phone call and kisses me again.
"How was your day?" I whisper against his lips.
"You want to know the best thing about my day?" I hum in answer as he continues to kiss the bottom of my jaw. "Coming back home to see you painting half naked, you know how much I love seeing you paint." He continues to kiss my shoulders as I struggle to contain the flush of red that is starting to appear on my cheeks. Then, his hands intertwine with mine and he brings the wedding rings that are wrapped around my fingers and gives it a tender kiss. "To know that I have someone to come home too."
We have been officially married for one year now, we are currently in the apartment in Seattle for his work. We are going back to New York in a few days since we have many things to complete. Him his business and me, my art.
The best thing about me and Ares' relationship, is the way he treats me. He still treats me as if we were on our first date, he still flirts and keeps me on my toes. I love that about him.
He stands and walks to the bedroom, I had four more canvases to do, so before putting everything away, I give the canvas one last stroke. Nothing that I cannot manage.
The proceeds from this auction in the gallery will go to a foundation that supports children's welfare and women's health rights, making it the best thing I have ever done.
I make my way to the bedroom and see Ares sliding his silver watch from his wrist onto the bedside table. He sat on his side of the bed, I walk to him and settle beside him. Leaning my head onto his shoulder.
His self-control began to wane as his head shook. I drew nearer to him, running my fingers over the same hard rock in his pants as before.
I could not think clearly because I wanted him so much. His gaze drooped and fixed on my mouth. I continued to stroke him while sensing the movement of his cock through the jean and beneath my hand. Our lips drew nearer.
He cupped my face between his fingers and tilted my chin while giving me a scorching-hot glance all over. He hummed and breathed, lowering his mouth to me more closely. The tip of his nose ran raggedly down my jawline, up over my face, and then over the bridge of my nose as he exhaled. He barely breathed as he halted and hesitated.
And neither was I, I was aware this is his technique of tease me and make me desire more. He satisfied the ache by bringing my face closer to his. He slammed his body against mine while crushing my lips with his.
When his tongue drew a line between my lips and pleaded for access, I sighed. His tongue danced and played with mine as I split them apart.
My fingers rush to the back of his thick hair, moaning into his mouth as his tongue licks every part of my mouth. He leans me down onto the mattress and towers over me, I adjust my body against his.
My hands slide down his dress shirt and I begin to remove his black tie, once I loosened it. He throws it to the side; I unbutton his shirt revealing his tattoos.
His cold body was attacked by my warm hands, his lips kiss my tip of my ears knowing my weak spots. My hands drag his shirt down his arms, and he helps me removing it quicker. "Butterflies?" I whisper, he nods his head as I begin to unbuckle his belt.
His dick sprung out, already erected for me. His lips sucked onto my bare nipples; I rub onto the tip of him before edging down. His hands make their way beneath my lace underwear as he rubs onto me. Our breaths fulfilling the rooms silence, once we were both wet enough. I feel him push himself inside of me fully, "Ares!" I moan, my hands wrap halfway around his biceps.
He begins thrusting into me, our lips hesitant to touch one another. "είσαι γαμημένη όμορφη." He bites onto my ear lobe, my back arches, and my stomach presses into his.
[You're fucking beautiful]
"γάμα με πιο δυνατά..." I mumble into his ear, he raises an eyebrow in disbelief, and I get my revenge by him pounding into me.
[Fuck me harder]
He struck every nerve that made me stiffen around his dick, and I was helpless to stop the cries from filling the apartment.
My teeth sink into his shoulders, my hands wrap around his neck and the last few thrusts causes me to cum all over him whilst he thrusted in and out of me.
He cummed after a few minutes later, before sinking onto my body. He turns us around so that I was on top of him, sweat all over our bodies. Breathing and heart rate increases.
He stretches out his arms and grabs a cigarette packet, with a lighter. Once he lights one up, his free hand spreads into my hair.
"I love you Ares," he takes the cigarette out of his mouth and props it against my lips. I take a puff before he returns it to himself.
"What's going through your mind, Mrs Nicolaides?" I blush and push my head into his chest, hiding. He knows the affect he has on me when he calls me that.
"Do you want to try for children again?" He pats the ashes away into the glass, those green eyes staring into mine.
"Alex, I want whatever you want. If you are ready to try again, I will support you in every way possible. But I do not want you to feel rushed, okay?" He pushes a strand of my hair behind my ears, I feel liquid swarming my eyes as I nod my head.
Since I had two miscarriages, I felt like I was nothing but a failure in my nature. No matter how many times I was reassured, I felt like a failure. And this feeling does not get brushed away easily. "Bare truth?"
"Advice or listen?"
"Listen." He nods for me to continue. "I'm scared." All the words coming out of my mouth, is in a whisper. "I feel like such a failure Ares. I have so much guilt on my back, and every time I wash my hands...I wash it for an extra five minutes because all I see is blood. Blood of our children." Tears were falling down my eyes, and sobs were leaving my mouth. "I don-dont want-Alastair has kids and Adrian...I want you-"
"I know I said I'm listening but that stops. Alexandra Nicolaides, everything happens for a reason. Every time you look at your hands, do not see the blood. Do not see any of it. See butterflies. I want you to see two butterflies in your hands, understand?"
He swipes the tears with his thumb, I nod my head and he kisses my lips ever so gently.
His forehead presses onto mine, and we exchange a moment of real love.
Not the fake love I read in books, not the easy or happily ever after love. But the strong love, the fighting love, our love.
I trusted him.
He trusted me.
We made a new meaning for love.
Love has many meanings.
Our meaning for love is butterflies because butterflies symbolise spiritual rebirth, transformation, change, hope, and life.
That was our love.
AUHTOR
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