Marked by his sin

Alessia’s POV

“Touch me, please” I begged as he held up my head and licked the nape of my neck, I could feel my veins popping from anticipation.

“Tell me you want me” He whispered into my ear as he bit my ear lightly. I let out a soft moan as I nodded quickly like a kid yearning for candy.

He grabbed my neck as he caught my lips with his, and he grabbed my butt with his hands and squeezed it hard.

The first thing I felt was heat.

It traveled through me quickly like a flash, my body wanted more. With my lips locked on his, he grabbed my breast with his free hand and fondled my nipples through my thin dress.

His hard cock brushed my legs lightly as he brought his tongue down to my hard nipples and licked them harshly. My legs were shaking as they could barely hold me anymore.

I couldn’t see his face in the dark—only felt the weight of his want for me, the way he explored my body like a promise waiting to be claimed. My skin tingled, nerves lighting up one by one, every sanity left in me went out the window.

I should have been afraid.

Instead, my thighs tightened and I shuddered as he ripped my underwear and his tongue licked my clit as he owned it, I felt liquid dripping from my already wet pussy.

A quiet sound slipped from my lips as he slid his finger mercilessly into my tight pussy. My body reacted shamelessly, heat coiling low and deep, awakening something fun and slightly painful. I yelped as he thrust mercilessly but he didn't stop. He touched my body like he knew every secret I hadn’t even admitted to myself yet.

I felt desired, chosen, and owned.

“Alessia”, he said my name as he put his fingers in my mouth. I could taste blood mixed with an unfamiliar liquid. His presence wrapped around me like a command, intimate and inescapable.

I threw my head back as he rubbed his hard cock against my clit, chasing sensation, desperate for more but it never came. The wait felt like torture, it felt delicious and cruel at the same time.

My lips parted as I let out moans, begging for more. I tried to have a glimpse of his face—

— Then the world became black.

I felt a seatbelt biting into my chest.

Leather scorched beneath my palms.

An engine hummed steadily, dragging me out of my dream like a punishment.

I gasped, heart pounding violently, heat still echoing through my veins as I was snapped back into reality, my torturous dream was broken by the sound of rain and streaking city lights beyond the window.

I was in the back seat of my father’s car.

Alive.

Breathing.

Eighteen.

I turned toward the rain-streaked glass, my cheeks looked flushed, pulse still racing. My reflection stared back at me—my eyes looked bright, lips parted and a stranger wearing my face.

“Are you comfortable back there, princess?” my father asked, catching my eyes in the rearview mirror.

I nodded too quickly before he could catch on. “Yeah. Just tired.”

My mother reached back, squeezing my knee. Her touch felt so warm. “Big night for you, cupcake.”

The word softened something tight in my chest, and I smiled at her. The restaurant was replayed in fragments—the crystal chandeliers dripping light over the familiar faces polished with smiles directed towards me, white tablecloths pristine, laughter weaving through the air, and I felt truly loved.

The thought of my birthday cake with eighteen candles brought an even wider smile to my face.

My red silk dress was clinging to my body, made perfectly for me.

My parents’ smiles—love, pride… and something darker flickering briefly in my father’s eyes.

“To Alessia,” he’d said, lifting his glass. “May you always make us proud.”

I smiled when he said those words.

I’d believed him.

Outside, the rain grew heavier, hammering harder against the windshield. The city thinned as we drove, lights stretching farther apart, darkness pooling heavily between them.

I checked the clock.

11:46 p.m.

Fourteen minutes to midnight.

I felt unease with the rain slamming the windshield like it was intentional. My fingers curled tightly in my lap.

“Dad,” I said softly. “The rain’s getting bad. Maybe… slow down?”

“I see it,” he replied, easing off the accelerator.

The tires hissed over the wet road as water splashed over the windshield, everything felt wrong at that moment.

Then—

Headlights.

Blinding.

Right in front of us.

“Watch out!” my mother screamed.

Time stopped.

The impact was brutal.

I could hear the sound of the metal shrieking as the other car ran into ours. Glass exploded through the cabin, shards slicing the air. My body snapped forward, causing the seatbelt to crush the breath from my lungs as pain detonated everywhere at once.

The car spun countless times, tires shrieking, before slamming to a stop so hard my vision went white.

After what felt like hours, my eyes finally sprang open, and a sharp pain crawled up my belly as I struggled to drag myself out of the car. For a moment, there was only silence.

Until I could hear the rain, and burning rubber. My silk dress was covered in blood, and tears pooled down my face.

I tried to call out. The sound died inside me.

The car rolled again.

The ceiling collapsed. Gasoline flooded the air, sharp and choking. My lungs burned as I fought for breath, every inhale was shallow and desperate.

“Mom!” I sobbed. “Dad!”

No answer.

The car slammed down upside down. Rain poured through shattered glass, soaking my hair, my dress, my skin. The engine coughed once… then went dead.

The quiet that followed was wrong.

Pain pulsed everywhere. My chest screamed with every breath. I couldn’t feel my legs. Panic clawed violently at my throat as I turned weakly toward the front seat—now hanging above me.

My father was limp in his seatbelt, blood dripping downward from his head.

My mother lay twisted unnaturally, her eyes open but they looked empty.

“No,” I whispered. “Please… no…”

Smoke curled through the wreckage. Sirens wailed faintly somewhere far away. Darkness crept in at the edges of my vision.

Then—

Footsteps.

A shadow appeared through the rain.

A man stumbled into view, soaked, breathing unevenly. When he saw the overturned car, he froze.

His hands shook.

“No,” he muttered. “No, no…” he couldn't believe his eyes.

He staggered back, his eyes darting over the wreckage, the bodies, the impossible destruction. For a heartbeat, I was sure he would run.

He looked like he wanted to.

His chest rose and fell erratically. His hands clenched, trembling violently.

Then his gaze locked onto mine.

Alive.

Barely.

He rushed forward, slipping in the mud, dropping to his knees beside the shattered window. Rain plastered his hair to his forehead, streaking his face.

“Oh God,” he breathed.

He froze.

Fear flared sharply.

He scrambled back, standing too fast, panic burning in his eyes as he glanced over his shoulder.

He turned to run.

“No—!” My voice shattered.

He stopped.

Slowly, he turned back.

He returned, crouching beside me. His hands hovered, shaking violently, before gripping mine.

His hands were strong and unsteady.

“Stay awake,” he said urgently. “Please. Stay with me.”

Rain dripped from his chin onto my skin. My vision blurred, but I saw it—

A dark, irregular birthmark stretched along his arm.

Unmistakable.

A mark I could never forget.

Sirens grew louder.

His face was drained of color. His grip loosened.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, already pulling away. “I’m so sorry.”

His hands slipped from mine.

He ran.

His footsteps vanished into the rain as darkness finally claimed me.

The last thing I felt was the echo of his trembling touch.