My Childhood Bully is a Mafia Boss-Chapter 36

Aidan, back then...

I grinned when I noticed Ivy staring at me as I took my shirt off. If she thought I didn’t notice how her breathing changed, she was mistaken.

Was my little Ivy turned on by me?

I had mixed feelings about it. One part of me was pleased that I had that effect on her. But the other part...the more reasonable part, didn’t like that since being with me could bring her pain.

And I didn’t want that.

Ivy had become the most important thing in my life, funny enough. The only one that made me happy these days. And it had nothing to do with sex, it was purely her friendship that made me feel whole.

Well...I guess it wasn’t purely friendship since we had that moment at the pool.

Ever since that moment, I couldn’t look at her the same. It took a lot of strength for me to keep my hands off her after that and pretend to be her mere friend. But I knew she wouldn’t want anything more from me, so I held myself back. I didn’t want to lose her friendship because I couldn’t control my teenage hormones...

"Are you done ogling at me?" I asked in a teasing tone.

Ivy groaned. "I am not ogling! I can barely see, anyway. It’s dark in here," she said.

"Sure, sure," I grinned.

"But, I have to go to the bathroom now so I will be turning the light on," Ivy said and proceeded to switch on her lamp.

But I grabbed her hand before she had the chance. "Wait...don’t turn on the light," I said.

"Why not?" she sounded confused.

I hesitated. "Eh...I am self-conscious?"

The truth was that I didn’t want her to see my other ugly bruises. I guess I thought it would hurt my pride.

Ivy scoffed. "Aidan, I’ve seen you without your shirt on before."

"I know, but..." I looked away, feeling awkward.

"You are being silly," Ivy said and turned on the light before I could protest again.

As soon as the light flickered on, Ivy gasped and covered her mouth, looking at me with wide eyes. She looked at my face, then down to my neck, and her gaze lingered on my chest and abs, covered in an array of dark purple bruises. I forced a small smile for her, trying to hide the pain that radiated through my body.

She slowly reached her hand out and touched my chest. Tears began to well up in her eyes as she traced her fingers over each livid mark on my body.

"Oh, Aidan...," she whispered, horror filling her voice. Her finger trailed down to the purple area on my abdomen, wincing at the pain she imagined I must feel.

My breath hitched at her gentle touch, a small flame igniting in my chest despite the ache that radiated through my body.

"Oh, come on. Don’t start crying now," I said, chuckling uncomfortably.

Ivy sniffled in response.

I swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in my throat. "I’ll be fine, Ivy. It’s not as bad as it looks."

"Your dad did this to you? How can he do that to his own son?" she rasped.

"Not every parent is as great as yours," I said. "He drinks too much and he’s been... taking out his anger on me."

As Ivy’s sobs intensified, my heart twisted in anguish, seeing her pain mirrored in her eyes. I cursed myself silently for letting her see my bruises.

I was used to this. I took my father’s beatings like it was a normal routine, but Ivy wasn’t someone who could handle it. She was sensitive and sweet and didn’t deserve to see the ugliness the world had to offer.

I reached out to gently wipe away her tears. "Hey, don’t cry, Ivy. Please. It hurts more that you’re crying over someone like me."

But she shook her head, unable to stop the flood of emotions pouring out of her. "I’m sorry, Aidan. I’m just... I’m so sorry that you have to go through this. You don’t deserve any of this."

Her words pierced through the walls I had built around my heart, tearing down the barriers that I had erected to keep people out.

At that moment, I felt more vulnerable than I ever had before, but I also felt something else—relief. Relief that I no longer had to carry this burden alone, that I had someone like Ivy to share it with.

"Ivy, please don’t cry," I pleaded, pulling her closer to me. "I’ll be okay. I promise."

But even as I spoke the words, I couldn’t shake the lingering fear that things would never truly be okay, that the scars—both physical and emotional—would never fully heal.

Ivy leaned in closer, her breath warm against my cold chest hair. She looked up at me with such sorrow in her eyes that it felt like a knife to my heart.

I couldn’t believe she was crying for me. Not the beautiful girl who was so kind and innocent. I wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her against my battered body, needing the warmth of her touch more than anything else at that moment.

"Shh," I whispered, kissing the top of her head. "I am okay." But even as I said the words, I wasn’t sure if they were true.

Her voice was shaky as she spoke again, "You don’t always have to be tough, Aidan. You can lean on me."

Without warning, she pressed her soft lips against the tender bruises scattered across my stomach. I gasped at the unexpected sensation but didn’t resist as she continued to kiss each one with gentle care. The pain and tension in my muscles melted away under the warmth of her touch. Moving upward, she traced a trail of delicate kisses over the bruises on my chest, soothing them with every tender press of her lips.

"Ivy, what are you doing?" I asked. She was crossing a dangerous line.

"I...I want to take your pain away," she said meekly.

I’ve never felt such tenderness before. It was as if her kisses were magic, melting the pain away. She was my savior in disguise.

As her lips reached my collarbone, I couldn’t take it anymore. My self-control crumbled, and I grabbed her face, pulling her towards mine. Our lips connected in a heated kiss, our tongues tangled together, seeking solace in each other as we both melted into the moment.

But then reality came crashing down on me like a ton of bricks—I wasn’t good enough for Ivy. I wasn’t meant to be with an angel like her. My father’s harsh words echoed in my ears, and I forced myself to push her away, gasping for air.

"I... I’m sorry," I muttered. "I shouldn’t have done that."

She gave me a gentle push, urging me to lie down.

I moved as if I was in a trance and laid back on my pillow. "Ivy," I whispered her name but didn’t know what else to say.

"Aidan. How do I take your pain away?" she breathed.

I ran my fingers through her hair. "You are here with me, and it’s good enough," I said.

She shook her head as if she didn’t agree with me. "Could I...could I make you feel good?" she asked in a hoarse whisper.

I gulped. "What do you mean—"

"I want to make you feel good," she said, trailing her fingers over the bandages around my waist. "Kind of like how you helped me feel good that night at the pool."

The logical part of my brain screamed at me to stop her, that this was wrong on so many levels – but the needy, broken part of me yearned for her touch.

"Are...are you sure?" I asked, my voice hoarse with desire and disbelief.

She nods, her eyes burning with determination. "I want to."

And so, with trembling fingers, I helped her undress me, baring my battered and bruised body to her. She didn’t flinch or recoil at the sight of my bruised skin. Instead, she looked at me with such understanding and compassion that it took my breath away.

Slowly, she kissed her way down my stomach, trailing hot, wet kisses over every inch of my battered skin. Her touch was like a balm to my soul – healing the wounds that went beyond the surface.

The way she cared for me made me believe that maybe, just maybe, there was still goodness left in this world.

She looked up at me. "Tell me how. I’ve never done this before," she said, smiling shyly.

I couldn’t believe this was happening.

I swallowed hard. "Take my cock in your hand and stroke it gently," I rasped out.

Her hand shook as she reached for my dick, and I could feel her warm breath against the head of my cock. She cupped her small hand around it, stroking slowly up and down. My hips jerked involuntarily at the sensation.

"S...sorry, was it bad?" she asked.

"No," I groaned. "Keep going."

Her touch became bolder, more confident with each passing second. I wanted to feel more than her hand.

"Could you...um...put me in your mouth?" I asked.

She hesitated for a moment but then nodded. With the gentlest of touches, I felt her warm, wet mouth envelop my cock. She sucked and licked, exploring every inch of me like a curious kitten. It felt better than anything I’ve ever felt before, so good that it threatened to split me apart at the seams.

"I... I’m close," I gasped out, my hips bucking upwards involuntarily.

She stopped for a moment, looking up at me with questioning eyes.

"It means it...it feels really good." I couldn’t believe I was explaining this to her, of all people. "You can...you can keep going."

She smiled shyly and resumed the act. A moan escaped my lips as I lost myself in her touch. This was better than any high I’ve ever had – because this was real, raw, and rare - something I never thought I could have from this beautiful girl.

A feeling of dread settled in my chest as I realized I was quickly falling for her.

This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.