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“Hit me back,” she pleads. “Hurt me.”

“Give me the knife,” I demand.

She hands me the knife she’s still holding in her hand. I flick the strap of her bra with the blade and expose the soft flesh of her tits. Slowly and meticulously, I press into her flesh and draw out the slow-motion of carving an M on her right tit. She moans, and her head falls back, her dark hair flowing down her back. “Now you’re mine, Malishka. My whore, my slut, my queen, my life.”

“Yours. I’m yours.”

“Good. Then you’ll have no problem with carrying my name.”

She gazes down at her tit, her finger tracing the drop of blood trickling down. “I’m already carrying your name.” She collects it on her fingertip before bringing it to my lips.

I take her finger in my mouth and let her blood calm me. “Not just on your skin. Legally. You’re gonna marry me.”

I bring my mouth to her nipple, taking it between my lips and biting so hard I draw blood.

Samira moans, pushing my head closer to her. “If you promise to always fuck me like this, you’ve got a deal.”

“Baby, you’re the only one I want to fuck. There is no one else for me, Samira. You’re the only woman I’ve touched in the last ten years, and you’ll be the only woman I will touch until the day I die.” I grab her hips firmly and move her up and down me quickly. “Come for me, baby. Be a good girl and cream my cock with that dirty pussy.”

Samira digs her nails into my shoulder so hard it almost penetrates my skin and screams as her pussy drenches my cock.

Her head falls on my shoulder as I cradle her in my arm, burying my face in her hair. She stays there, her fingers moving along the collar of my shirt. “When did you get tattoos?’

“I’ve gotten a few over the years.”

“Can I see them?”

“Now?”

“Yes, is that okay?”

“Sure.” I pull her off my dick and sit her down in the seat beside me as I unbutton my shirt.

She gasps as she takes in my skin, covered in ink from my neck down my back, along my chest, and my entire arms. “I never thought you’d get this many tattoos.”

“It’s a map.”

“What?”

“All of them are about you.” I point to the tulip on my arm, “Your favorite flower.” My hand moves to the cup of tea on my stomach. “Your favorite drink.” I flip my arm to show her the lyrics to All Apologies by Nirvana, “Your favorite song.” I turn around to show her the best part, a portrait piece, “Your beautiful face. Forty-seven tattoos in total, all of which represent you.”

“Maxim,” Samira whimpers before she breaks down into sobs.

I drop to my knees, framing her beautiful face. “I love you, Malishka. Not a day went by that I didn’t think about you.”

She throws her arms around me, and I hold her as she unloads her sorrow.

My Samira is back in my arms.

My heart is finally beating again.

Epilogue

5 YEARS LATER

Samira

“Hurry, Maxim. We’re gonna be late.”

Max slips his finger under my dress, his fingers bruising up against my clit. “We’ve got time.”

“It’s her first parent-teacher interview. We aren’t those parents.”

“What parents are those? Parents who are madly in love and like to fuck each other?” His finger slips inside my pussy.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Max pinches my clit. “Watch your mouth?”

“I don’t want to be late,” I pout.

Max drops to his knees, lifting my skirt before burying his head underneath. “I like that you don’t wear panties. Maybe we can fuck in the classroom.”

“We’re not gonna fuck at our kids’ pre-school.”

“You know I’m gonna have to punish you for saying no to me.”

“That’s fine. You can do whatever you want when we put the twins to bed, but right now, we got to go.”

Max licks my slit, completely ignoring me. I try to move, but his hands brace my legs in place. He moves his fingers in and out of me, one finger, then two, then three, stretching me as his tongue moves in rhythm on my clit. His fingers bend, and he taps my g-spot, letting me know that he could have me drench the floor at any moment.

“Max, no, no. I’m gonna squirt. I don’t have time to change, Max. Please.” My hands tug at his hair, trying to pull him away and closer at the same time. “Why are you so good with that tongue?”

He chuckles into my pussy. “I like dessert.” He twists his finger and gently sucks on my clit, and right as I’m about to drench his face, he latches onto my pussy with his lips and drinks up all my cum, holding me into place until I calm down.

“Okay, let’s go,” I say, not even waiting for him to get up.


Tags: Mila Crawford Crime