Viktor
I’ve seen beautiful women in my life, but no one compares to this siren. She looks at me like I can move mountains. She pushes me and doesn’t take my shit. The only time she’s ever backed down from me was when I was more beast than human. Shame fills me as I recall the way I chased her out of my house.
“You okay?” she asks and runs a soft finger between my eyes.
I run my hands up her smooth thighs to her hips. “I am now.”
Belle’s hands run across my chest, whisper soft over the tender skin of my tattoo. The air sizzles with all the unspent sexual tension. My dick presses against my jeans, begging for its turn, but I remind myself to live in the moment.
These last few months have been hell. That is until Belle appeared at my door. She makes me feel alive. Her touch is healing all the invisible wounds I carry.
“Mouth,” I demand. I need to taste her while her hands drive me crazy. She gives into my demand, and my fingers dig into the flesh at her hips. My hips arch on their own, pressing my dick against her center.
She breaks our kiss, and I’m tempted to bring her back for more. But my curiosity wins over my need for more of that pretty mouth. She kisses my neck and Adam’s apple and works her way down my body. Her hands fumble with my jeans as her lips make my abs tremble under her attention.
The zipper lowers, and the sound is like a rocket zipping through the air, and I freeze. Air catches in my throat and panic sets in. I sound like a fucking pussy, but the idea of her touching my mess of a leg destroys a part of me. She’s far too sweet, too good, and too beautiful for me.
Her eyes meet mine. “It’s okay.” She tugs on my jeans, and I grab her wrist. “Viktor…”
My name mixed with the pleading in her eyes forces me to release her. My arms go to my sides and tight fists form to prevent me from stopping her again. I’m as still as a fucking statue. The complete opposite of what I should be. I’m unable to look away as she removes my jeans. She’s careful not to disturb my new prosthetic, a stark contrast to my tan leg next to it.
Belle moves to all fours, and her fantastic tits sway back and forth. Mesmerizing me with her body, I don’t realize she’s made herself comfortable between my legs. I scan her face the moment a hand lands on each leg. She rubs up and down my lower legs, moving to my knees and then thighs. When I don’t see disgust or pity, I feel some of the tension in my body release.
“I don’t know if anyone’s told you, Mr. Prinz, but you are fucking hot, beautiful even.” Her eyes are bright, and she licks her lips the moment they land on my erection.
I consider speaking but there is nothing to say, other than she’s delusional. If my broken body, with its one and a half legs and multiple scars from the shrapnel that tore through it, is her idea of “beautiful” and “fucking hot,” she needs to have a chat with Dr. Sarachaga.
Her short nails scrape up my thighs, pulling my thoughts back as she teases the fuck out of me. My balls tighten, and my erection strains against the material containing it. Her hot mouth leaves open mouthed kisses up my thighs and over my covered dick.
Belle pulls my boxer briefs down my legs and throws them aside. The cool air hits my hard-on, and I feel it grow thicker. I hiss with pleasure when her hand wraps around my length. She pumps me from base to tip that glistens with precum. I’m losing my mind, frantic and desperate for more.
“Tell me what you want, Viktor,” she says, throwing my earlier demand back at me.
“I want that sassy mouth to suck me off,” I reply, unashamed of telling her. Her eyes darken, and I see how much my dirty talk turns her on.
I gasp when Belle’s lips wrap around the tip. She slides her warm mouth down until she can’t take me any farther, and I nearly swallow my tongue. Her head bobs up and down over me, her hand following each move. With every pull of her mouth and stroke of her hand, she brings me closer.
My hands tangle in her hair, pushing it away from her face so I can enjoy the show. My hips move, careful not to hurt her, but I can’t help but push my dick in as far as she’ll take me. Those lips are stretched tight, and my toes point and curl as I bump the back of her throat.
Her eyes meet mine as she increases the tempo, and in no time my balls are wound tight and I tingle with my upcoming release. “Baby, I’m gonna come,” I warn her and try to slip out.
Only, the woman has gone full Hoover-mode. Her cheeks hollow, and she sucks me for all she’s worth. When she swallows around the tip, I can’t stop the roar that rips from my very soul. Streams of come pour out of me, and she swallows every drop.
I can’t fucking breathe. My heart is pounding away like a jackhammer, but the woman doesn’t stop. She lazily licks me clean from top to bottom. When my sensitive head can’t take any more, my body twitches and she chuckles.
“Pleased with yourself?” I tease.
“Oh, yes I am.” She wipes her mouth, and her smile tells me the truth in her words. “Did you enjoy yourself?” she asks me between the kisses she’s leaving on my stomach.
“Fuck yes!”
Belle laughs, and I realize that it has become one of my favorite sounds in the world. I pull her up so I can have more of that sweet, sassy mouth. Belle straddles my hips, and my dick notices. Her sex is hot and so fucking wet.
Our kiss starts as a sweet exploration, remiss of all the desperation of before. I run my hands down her back and cup that round ass I’ve been imagining for so long. Slipping one hand down and around, my long middle finger finds its prize.
I tease her folds, and she pushes against my hand. I slide my finger inside her, and she whimpers into my mouth. I roll a nipple with my free hand as she rides my finger. Every time she moves, she glides over the bottom of my dick, running her clit up and down.
“Come on my hand, baby,” I demand and feel her squeeze my digit. It doesn’t take long before her movements are jerky and her juices coat me. She buries her face and her sexy little pants tickle my chest. “I fucking love making you come.”
She kisses my neck and pushes up off my chest, careful of my tattoo. I lick the remnants of her off my finger, and her eyes darken. Belle takes my mouth and I roll her over, never breaking our desperate kiss. I reach into my nightstand to find a condom.
Her ankles lock around my waist, and I’m dying to be inside her. Belle breaks our kiss and nips at my neck and shoulder. A little growl escapes her, surprising me, and I chuckle.
“Yes, baby?”
“I want you, Viktor.”
“You do?” I tease, and she slaps my ass. “Feisty!”
“Either you tear open that condom you’re holding, or I do.”
She’s as desperate as I am. That fact only turns me on even more. “The beauty can do the honor if she’d l—” The condom is pried from my hand, and I watch her tear it open with her mouth. I chuckle because she looks so fucking cute. She rolls the condom up my length, and my body stands to attention.
I press my dick against her heat and lean my weight on my elbows, careful of my leg. Bit by bit I press into her channel. She’s so tight and warm. Beads of sweat form on my body as I force myself to go slowly. Savoring the moment I’ve dreamt of so many times.
Her head tips back and her eyes close. “Look at me,” I tell her, needing all of her.
Our gazes meet, and the power in our attraction hits a new high. Never in my life have I felt this connected to another human being. If I were a woman, I would describe it as magical.
With one last push, Belle takes all of me. Her hips roll under me, a silent plea for me to move. The problem is we’ve barely moved, and I’m ready to explode. Her nails dig into me at the same time her heels push into my ass cheeks.
“Move, ple—”
This time my kiss is rough, and I pull my hips back. I pound into her, concern briefly tickling the outside of my conscious thought before Belle moans, “Yes!” All the encouragement I need erupts from that one powerful word.
My hips piston back and forth, and her walls contract around me, milking my dick. There’s no way I can keep this up much longer. I hold my release at bay and take one of her pink nipples into my mouth. I bite the puckered flesh and she cries out, falling apart under me.
I pound into her two more times, each stroke claiming her flesh as mine, before my body stiffens. With a roar, I come. I’m consumed by the intensity of my orgasm.
Belle’s fingers comb through my hair, and her lips take mine. This kiss is sweeter than the others. I show her with my tongue and lips how much our joining means to me. Words I can’t even express to myself.
“Belle, my sweet Belle.” I pepper the apples of her cheeks and eyes with kisses.
Her eyelids flutter open and our gaze locks. Emotions swirl in those dark windows to her soul, and she kisses me again softly. I run my nose along hers, breathing in her sweet scent. Neither of us speaks, enjoying the quiet company.
After a few minutes, I begin to worry that I’m crushing her. I remove the used condom and toss it into the waste basket next to my bed. I lay on my back and pull her into my arms. I’m at peace with her there. She belongs here in my arms, only I don’t know if I should tell her that.
In the peace, her breaths even out, and not soon after I follow her into a nap. A few hours later, I wake up wrapped around her body. Her back to my front, my arm tucked around her, and our fingers laced against her breasts.
These last few weeks have transformed me. For one, I used to question even continuing the next steps in my therapy. I gave up any thought to my life finding a new normal. My mom is dead. My leg is gone. My career ended the moment that IED went off.
I don’t know what to do with my life. Life with a prosthetic is much different than I expected. I know there is so much more to get through. I still can’t walk on this prosthetic for long periods. Who knows how long it will take me to reach wearing it for a full day?
Now my leg is bothering me as I lay here with Belle in my arms. I know I should have removed the prosthetic before falling asleep. My ego and libido took over, and I never took it off. I want Belle to see me whole. That is, as whole as I’ll ever be.
When the urge to use the bathroom surpasses my need to hold her, I carefully disentangle myself from her body. Steadier than without the prosthetic, I get up from the bed. My mind flashes back to the memory of the first time I tried to sit up in bed on my own at the hospital. It’s surreal how much harder it is to do such a basic movement after losing part of your body.
My stump aches and I stumble a few times, but I’m able to use the bathroom and return to bed without drawing Belle’s attention. My gaze lands on the creamy skin of her shoulder peeking out, and I push aside the frustrations clouding my mind. This woman is too good for me. I’m not quite sure what she sees in me, but I’m too weak to push her away.
Sitting on the bed, my back to her, I stare down at my legs. I grab the back of my neck and note all the differences. Hard vs. soft. Hairy vs. smooth. Human vs. carbon fiber.
Behind me, Belle shifts and her hands come to my shoulders. She kisses her way up my spine to my neck. The feel of her skin against mine sooths the frustration in me threatening to spill.
“Hi honey.” Her voice is sleepy and hearing it feels incredibly intimate.
“How was your nap, baby?” The words come out thick as my body reacts to her featherlight touch.
“Mmm…Really good.” She clears her throat and kisses my jaw. “Your leg needs rest. Go ahead and take off the prosthetic.”
The muscles under her touch contract. “I’m—”
Belle turns my face to hers and presses her lips to mine. “Viktor, honey, please listen to me when I tell you it doesn’t bother me. What will bother me is if you hurt your leg because you’re being so stubborn.”
She slips around me, and her beautiful naked body is on display a moment before she sinks down to her knees. She expertly removes my prosthetic and sets it aside where I can reach it. Without a word, I watch her walk out of my room, enjoying each sexy sway of her hips.
When Belle returns with my crutches, I watch her set them within arm’s reach before climbing into bed. “Lay down, honey.”
Unable to resist her quiet command, I lay back and she puts her head on my chest. I run my hand up and down her back and relax into the motion. I kiss the top of her head and breathe her in. A floral scent mixed with something else that I identify as only Belle.
“Viktor?” Her voice is hesitant, and it scatters my thoughts.
My hand freezes over the soft skin of her hip. “Yeah, baby?”
A light finger runs along the tender flesh of my new tattoo. “Will you tell me?”
I stiffen, unsure of how much I should tell her. I’m quiet for so long, debating how much to tell her when she sighs. It’s a sad, defeated sigh, and it wrenches me because I know it’s my fault. I hate that I’ve caused it.
“The rose…” I start and nod toward my dresser.
“Mmhmm?”
“I kept that one from my mom’s funeral. Roses were her favorite. She used to say there was beauty and magic behind a single red rose. I laid her to rest with eleven and kept that one for myself. I guess I needed some of that beauty and magic she swore by.”
“That’s beautiful, honey.” Belle raises to her elbow and looks from me to my tattoo. “And this one?”
“This rose will never wilt. Its beauty and magic will last as long as I do.” I grab her hand and kiss the knuckles, needing to touch her.
“And what about the rest? The drop of blood and the fallen petal?” she asks, and I suck in a breath.
As crazy as it sounds, when I gaze into her eyes I see my future in this woman. I don’t know her well, but from the moment she walked into my life, this attraction crackling around us superseded the sexual attraction, making us crazy with want and need for each other.
I hesitate but continue. “The drop of blood represents the pain the rose suffered to bring me its magic. The petal represents what it sacrificed to bring beauty into my life.” I cup her neck, needing to feel her lifeline under my palm. “Even when I didn’t deserve to have you in my life, my beautiful Belle, that drop of blood sealed my fate to you.”
Those kissable lips part, and I hear her small gasp. Her eyes search mine, and I see the moment she realizes she’s that beauty in my life. At her reaction, I decide to take a chance, to put it all on the table.
Raising onto my elbow, I bring us face to face. My fingers skim the side of her face, and I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “Losing my leg sucked. It’s left me broken and in a very dark place.” When Belle opens her mouth to speak, I rub my lips on hers. “Please let me finish.” Inhaling deeply, I hope the sweet smell of Belle strengthens me to finish what I’ve started.
“Losing my mom, well that hurts on a level everyone might have to experience one day.”
Belle cups my cheek and kisses me softly.
“Fairy tales don’t exist. But if they did, I’d be cast as the man who stole the princess and kept her as my own. God knows I don’t deserve you. You deserve the prince with the castle and the jewels.”
“Many will think I’m crazy and out of my mind, but when you were gone last week, thinking I lost you too…none of the other stuff compared to the darkness that overwhelmed me because you were gone. I know it’s crazy. I know it’s way too soon. I know this may scare you because it sure as hell scares me. Somehow, somewhere along the way, these last three weeks altered me. You altered me. I found beauty in my darkest hour. I love you, Isabel Marchant. I may not be good enough for you, but I promise you I’ll protect you until my dying breath.”