Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 40275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 201(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 201(@200wpm)___ 161(@250wpm)___ 134(@300wpm)
But I’m a grown-ass motherfucker. I need nobody and nothing except myself and to take care of my obligations. Then I set eyes on her, and her fucking curves and dimples and red satin dress and I’m ass pussy whipped as a teenager.
I fucked her raw. Several times. It was fucking amazing.
Whump goes my fist against the trunk of the rotten old ash, sending bark flying.
The sting of the impact does nothing to cut through the way I want her. I still smell her cunt on me, her musk, her youth.
I stomp off through the woods, to the pond that eddies by the river. I pick up a handful of stones and skip them across the surface of the water. Because seriously. Fucking seriously. What am I doing?
I’ve got shit to take care of, and huge responsibilities.
But when she finds out who I really am? And what I’ve done? This sweet babydoll will be gone.
And, if it’s not enough to find out about the lives that ended by my hands?
When she sees my life and runs the other direction? I’ve made a few attempts in my life to do the ‘normal’ thing and date. Fucking mess. Cheating. Check.
Ghosting me after an introduction to my brother?
Check.
Check.
That happened twice. That was enough. Waste of fucking time and now? I’ve fucked this little girl bareback and what if she decides to bolt when she figures out, I’ve already got a full house of obligations that I’ll never abandon.
Shit.
I exhale toward the blue sky. Clouds roll in, white and fluffy telling me the storm that was supposed to come through must have moved south.
I toss the last of the stones and head back. My mind is full of her, fucking swimming in her. Last night, it was like we were the only two people left in the world. Adam and Eve and sin itself and nothing else existed but us. The way her pussy tightened around me. The way her blood flooded over my balls.
The way I want to nut inside her until she’s bulging with me, tits swollen and milky.
Fucking Christ. So right, but so fucking wrong.
When I get inside she’s not in the bed and my heart lodges in my throat until I see the bathroom door closed. She comes out wearing one of my sweatshirts, that she must’ve found in the closet. Camo print, way too big for her. The bottom falls right at the place where her beautiful thighs meet. Revealing nothing and yet everything.
Fuck, she looks amazing. And looks surprised to see me. In her sleepiness, without makeup, in my baggy hoodie, I can see how fucking young she really is. My core tightens with the fucking wrongness of it. But my dick fucking aches to feel her again.
“Do you want to leave?” I ask her.
She rubs her eyes, blinking away sleep. “Yes, I mean… no.”
I narrow my eyes at her. “Don’t play games with me, little girl.”
She nibbles her lip as she looks at me. Christ. Maybe she is some kind of fucking temptress after all. “I mean, I don’t know what you’re asking.”
It’s not rocket science. I’ll chalk it up to being a little slow after all the orgasms and cherry popping pain. “Tell me what you want and I’ll make it happen.”
I can tell she’s not used to being asked what she wants. But she better get used to it quick. “I mean, I think I’m bad somehow, rotten in my core. I’m here to…be humbled. Or, reborn maybe into something less…wrong.” She presses her sweet, perfectly manicured hand with its short red nails to her chest, helping me see the curve of her tits through my sweatshirt. Her nipples are tight. Of course they fucking are. “It seems better if I’m away from everybody. Doesn’t it?”
She’s preaching to the fucking choir now. That’s my MO, protecting the world from me. And that means protecting her, too.
But fuck. The way I want her, it makes me feel completely out of control. Totally off the goddamned rails.
The last time I felt this way, it wasn’t with lust. It was with anger. It’s a long fucking story that can be boiled down into just a few simple elements. My abusive dad. Self-defense. And my brother getting hurt for life in the process.
I thought I’d put that monster away until six weeks ago. If she knew that, she’d run for sure.
“You’re not dangerous, little girl. You’re just fucking gorgeous is all.”
She doesn’t get shy, doesn’t blush or look away. “But isn’t that the same thing?” The way she says it, it’s a genuine question. No games now.
Yeah, she’s got a lot to learn. “You can’t stay up here, baby. You can’t hide from the world just because of what someone else has told you about yourself.”
She twirls a lock of her hair thoughtfully around one finger and then sinks down across from me against the rough wall, tucking her knees into the baggy sweatshirt, folding herself into a little ball. “All my life I’ve been told I’m impure. Filthy. A sin. The Devil has me, blah blah blah. But last night,” her breath catches. “Last night, you took all that from me. And now, that’s all gone. The worst thing happened.”