Hel & Veritas

The Obsession

"f**k!"

Was this real?

Had he truly just witnessed his new surgeon bring herself to c****x, her moans a seductive whisper of his name?

Xenia was moments from his estate gates when his car's Bluetooth chimed, Dr. Brevinska's name flashing on the screen. A critical car accident victim with a concussion and brain hemorrhage needed immediate surgery, time slipping away with each second. He spun the Rolls Royce around, tires protesting against the asphalt, and sped back to the hospital. Four grueling hours later, they had managed to pull the man back from the brink, placing him in a medically induced coma to aid his ravaged body. It was five minutes past seven when he finally finished for the day. He reached for the ignition, but a sudden thought snagged his attention.

He pulled out his phone, a smirk playing on his lips as he checked something. Setting the coordinates in his car's GPS, he drove towards his unexpected destination. It took him half an hour, the sleek car gliding through a posh neighborhood lined with elegant three-story condos. He parked in the shadows of a dark alley and slipped out. The rear of the buildings was shrouded in night, the decks deserted, making his ascent surprisingly easy. Years of rigorous training allowed him to scale the pipes to the third floor without breaking a sweat.

He landed silently on the third-floor balcony. The sliding door was closed, but a practiced hand could grant him entry without shattering the glass. The balcony opened into a bedroom with red and black décor. Red, his little flower's favorite color, it seemed. The room was empty. He produced a thin, metallic card and slid it along the lock of the sliding door. It clicked open. He swiftly removed his shoes and padded silently into the room, melting into a dark corner beside the window, waiting for his tsvetok to emerge from her shower.

Within a minute, she appeared, rubbing a towel through her damp hair, dressed in a skimpy red satin and lace top and shorts that did little to conceal the tempting curves that had already imprinted themselves on his mind. She tossed the towel onto a small couch and then crawled onto the bed on all fours, her creamy breasts swaying like mesmerizing bells. He fought the urge to growl, to yank her soft frame against his own and feel the weight of those full breasts in his hands. She settled onto the bed, but sleep seemed to elude her. With a sigh, she climbed out again and went to stand before the mirror.

He frowned as she stared at her reflection for a long moment, but his breath caught in his throat as he watched her hands begin to roam over her sinful body. A possessive growl rumbled in his chest as the delicate fabrics slipped down, revealing her in all her glorious nakedness, every curve a feast for his hungry eyes. A primal urge surged through him – to walk up to her and f**k her right there in front of that damn mirror, to make her watch herself come undone on his raging c**k, screaming his name until she was breathless and limp. He watched her every move with predatory intensity, memorizing each detail, burning it into his brain.

He saw her lick her fingers and then circle that swollen c**t, a silent invitation for his tongue to explore her depths. The soft moans that escaped her lips as she tugged on her erect n*****s, biting her full lower lip, ignited a fierce desire within him to rip his own clothes off and rut against her like a f*****g Viking. But his thoughts stilled when she whispered his name, her voice husky with longing.

"Xen…"

That single word, his name on her lips as her fingers danced over her c**t, sent a jolt of possessive heat through him. When she pressed the vibrator against her swollen flesh and began chanting his name like a broken prayer, her skin glistening with sweat, her mouth a sensual invitation, Xenia had to clench his jaw, biting down hard on his cheek to suppress the guttural groan that threatened to erupt. He would watch his custom-made goddess reach her peak. It wasn't long before her small body began to tremble violently, the red vibrator working its wicked magic, and then the unmistakable sound of her release, the wetness glistening on her thighs, her soft cries echoing in the silent room.

She fell back onto the bed, breathing heavily, her body still quivering like a spent kitten slick with sweat. His own c**k throbbed with need, slick with pre-come, but what nearly pushed him over the edge was the sight of her swiping her creamy juices onto her fingers and then slowly, deliberately, sliding them into her sexy mouth, sucking them with a wanton moan.

Slowly, her rapid breaths softened, and she drifted into a deep, oblivious sleep, unaware that the man who haunted her fantasies stood silently at the foot of her bed, his gaze possessive as he devoured the sight of her body, a living, breathing work of art created solely for him. He moved with a silent grace, climbing onto the bed, placing his hands carefully beside her hips, leaning down to trace his tongue down her swollen, still-wet p***y. A low growl rumbled in his chest as he closed his eyes, savoring her taste on his tongue. He moved up her body, pausing to suck her left n****e into his mouth, eliciting a soft moan in her sleep. He finally lifted his head, his gaze softening as he studied her beautiful face.

He felt like a man lost in the desert, who had given up all hope of finding water, only to suddenly stumble upon a crystal-clear pond, shimmering with the promise of new beginnings.

His baby was his hope in this dark, damaged world.

He gently kissed her forehead and ran his knuckles softly along her cheek, a rare smile gracing his lips. A small pout softened her cherry lips, and he couldn't suppress a low chuckle at her innocent expression.

He kissed her nose and then sighed against her lips, a silent confession of his dark obsession as he ran his fingers lightly through her hair. "Soon," he whispered into the stillness, his voice thick with possessive intent, "you will be moaning my name with my c**k ramming inside your cunt, my hands marking your body, my mouth worshipping your skin, and my ring on your finger."

He carefully lifted himself off her body and retreated silently towards the balcony, melting back into the night for now. But this game of hide and seek was nearing its end.

And he would have his tsvetok in his arms… for eternity.