MARCOMy hand was as red as her ass.Jesus, Aurora was a sight to behold. Even on her hands and knees, that woman could bring down my world down to her feet, and I could only give in. Her skin was coated in sweat, her mouth parted, and her back arched in anticipation of the next blow.Allowing a slight reprise, I trailed my palm toward the inside of her thigh and felt the velvet of her skin. It took a mere flick of my wrist to part her legs and touched her sex, letting my fingers explore her body in ways which my sins demanded. And as soon as my fingers grazed against her clit, and she whimpered, my dick throb with equal impatience."Ugn!" she screamed, wagging her ass more and more."Are you saying something?" I teased, circling her bundle of nerves.I knew her body too well. I knew how to make it fucking sing and dance like the way I wanted it to.And my stubborn girl wouldn't just admit it.I maintained the tempo for a long beat, just enough to allow her mind to get immersed in the

AURORASam looked like shit, and I didn't even have the heart to say it. Dark circles rimmed her eyes, her skin was dry and pale, and her hair...when was the last time she had brushed? Sadness was so much unlike her. Sam has a natural radiance, one that has the ability to illuminate every facet of darkness.I watched her enter the bedroom, completely unaware of my presence as she lazily slammed the door shut and turned..."Jesus Christ! Are you crazy?" Sam screamed, staggering back."That's debatable," I smirked in a pathetic attempt to make her smile but later gave up. "Are you okay?"She didn't need to spell out the words. I could already see them etched on her face. Then, without a word, she joined me on the couch, throwing her head back to stare aimlessly at the ceiling.I haven't really gotten my head wrapped around the concept of 'family' while I was growing up. But spending time with these people...Viktor, Dominic, Sammy, Stef...the idea was abundantly clear to me. They had eac

"It was words that I fell for. In the end, it was words that broke my heart." ~ Lang Leav, Memories. A U R O R AMy eyes slowly fluttered open as I stared blankly at the ceiling without bothering to look around. Not less than three seconds ago, I came to my senses, and I was already in denial. Not wanting to see, feel, or think.I didn't need to look around to realize where I was. It was Sam's room, and I was lying on her soft Queen size bed because the nauseating aroma of coconut and vanilla assaulted my nasal passages.The woman has an unhealthy attachment to strong fragrances."How are you feeling?" Sam appeared in the periphery of my vision as I winced and tried to avoid.Pity was something I refused to accept in any circumstances. Even when I turn ninety and fucking invalid. And if I ever live up to that age. But not now, not today."Aurora, please talk to me," she implored.I figured that just like every Romano in this house, she can't take a damn signal and shut up. So I shove

AURORA"Present your breasts."Marco's cool grey eyes were anything but hungry as he slowly drank in my naked body that made me flinch. As always, the man was impeccably dressed and that too in a made-to-measure Brioni suit, having just returned from a tedious three-hour meeting. His squared jaw was shaved this evening, and his hair looked perfectly messy in a finger-raked style. I was tempted to reach out and run my fingers through them just to relish the velvet touch. "And keep your eyes on me as you do, Aurora," he added on with his earlier vicious command.I felt mutinous from within. It wasn't fair for him to be so immaculately dressed while keeping me bared and exposed. Every inch of my body was touched and kissed and marked by him. I wore this man every day on my skin.Marco knew that I wasn't embarrassed to shed my clothes in front of him or shied away from his touch, so to intensify my humiliation and maintain the balance of power exchange between us, he'd often employ the

A U R O R A What is the definition of loss and suffering to people like us? A few weeks ago, my misery had peaked to a primed spot. I had mourned, raged and cried over the loss of a man whom I loved, marinated in grief and wallowed in self-pity. There were so many stages of my suffering that I had believed it to be real, but the one unfolding before my eyes transcended all the other horizons of loss and suffering. Before me, there were two parents, howling over their son’s body. Mrs. Romano cupped his boy’s face as if she were trying to coax him into waking up while Alessandro Romano, the man known to be invincible to Chicago, were bested down by Stefan’s death. He stood stoically, but it was his red, void eyes that spoke volumes. The sight was harrowing. I did not even have the strength to reach out to Sammy. She could barely stand or even breathe in the wake of her loss. Stefan was everything to her, to this family. The youngest, spoiled and beloved. She shook violently, cryi