Total pages in book: 55
Estimated words: 51051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 255(@200wpm)___ 204(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 255(@200wpm)___ 204(@250wpm)___ 170(@300wpm)
I’ve gone crazy, the life of my heart.
I whisper the words in Persian, hoping to make it clear. Because that’s what Azadeh is for me, and has been from the moment I saw her that day when I was a scared, confused boy. She’s always been the spark that lights my heart. My reason for living. Sure, over the years, I’ve found another type of love with Cyrus and Lev, but without Azadeh, there’s always been a missing core. Without her, we’re simply bodies walking around without hearts—Tinmen from The Wizard of Oz.
“Why can’t you stay?” I grit the words through clenched teeth, my restraint holding on by a fraying thread.
I thrust inside her with force and spit above her ass crack, pushing my saliva down to her puckered asshole. Inserting the tip of my thumb, I press it inside her. Removing my hand from her hair, I shove my fingers into her mouth. I want to invade every single inch of her. To have her full of me, to show her with my actions what she does to my being. “We need you. We desperately need you. When you come home, we’re whole. Then you leave, and the darkness takes over, Az. You’re our fucking light, don’t you see that? Fuck, Lev took Mona because he needed you. He fuckin’ needed you, and you weren’t here.”
I tug at her, forcing her neck to turn as her mouth opens further for me. “I’ve never wanted to debase you, Azadeh. Never wanted to be cruel to you. Even when you admitted to liking degradation, I still refused. I didn’t think I should say those words to someone who represents the divine. But right now, I want to hurt you the way you’ve hurt me. With everything I’ve gone through, the years of abuse from my father, losing my eye, the years in prison, none of it compared to the pain of waiting around for you.”
Chapter 21
Lev—Age 30
Present Day
Darkness shrouds me in the little surveillance room I’ve set up. My little shelter of deviance. The room that houses my secrets and perversions. I grip my dick as I watch the monitors. Forty screens cover three naked bodies, and the surround sound captures every filthy word and moan uttered in ecstasy.
I thought I was clever, keeping my dirty little secret. Turns out, I wasn’t as sly as I thought.
Cyrus winked at me after Zeke’s long speech about what a useless piece of shit I was. Okay, he might not have uttered those words, but the gist was pretty much the same. If I’m being honest, he’s not wrong. My issues have fucked up my life. Unlike Cyrus and Zeke, who can move on with life, I’m still frozen in place with my mother’s hands on my shoulders as I gaze in horror.
Occasionally, I wonder if I enjoy voyeurism because of what my mother forced me to do. Like now, for instance, as I watch three people I love. It should disgust me, but I’ve long suspected the illness that afflicted my parents is also in my DNA.
You’re watching adults, not children.
I know my proclivity isn’t the same. Cyrus, Zeke, and Azadeh know I’m lurking behind the monitors. But I still can’t ignore that nagging guilt.
My eyes are glued to the monitor. Azadeh’s sitting on Cyrus’s mouth, making me wish it was my face she was riding.
Zeke pulls at her mouth, forcing her to look at the camera. “Enjoying the show, Peeping Tom?”
Zeke’s anger is palpable. I sense his frustration, fear, and rage through the monitor. So much that I wouldn’t be surprised if his hand emerged through the screen to strangle me. But the rage he hides so well makes my dick throb.
I spit on my hand and bring it to my shaft. I work my dick, imagining Zeke taking his frustration on me.
“You touching yourself, Levinston?” Zeke asks.
“Yes,” I whisper into the safety of the dark room.
He smiles as if he can see me and quickens his thrusts into Azadeh, his thumb deep in her ass. My mouth waters as saliva falls from Azadeh’s mouth, sliding down her nipples and falling onto Cyrus’s forehead.
Cyrus lifts his hands and twists Azadeh’s nipples. He’s not gentle. Cyrus has always been better at taking charge of her body. He has no problem hurting her like she wants. Degrading words fall from his lips so easily, and he’s the best at sexually gratifying her.
Zeke fulfills her emotionally. He understands her on a level that Cyrus and I never could. Azadeh and Zeke discuss poetry, politics, and religion. They have an intellectual connection. The orgasms they share are heightened but in a different way.
I don’t know what I can offer Azadeh besides buying her anything she wants. It might be enough for some women, but not Azadeh. That girl doesn’t want what’s in my bank account; she longs to possess my soul.