Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 107265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
When I step under the water, the floor starts to turn red as it washes away the sins of the night. While it washes me clean, it does nothing to solve my other problem.
My cock is still ready to fuck.
I grab myself in my hand. It’s either this or I wake up my wife. Since that’s not going to happen, I stroke myself root to tip. The hot water flows from above, rinsing away the blood on my hands.
It drips off me, clinging to the surface of my skin.
Death and sin.
It’s primal and dirty.
It’s everything I need right now.
My grip tightens as I think of Viviana lying on the bed.
Naked and ready.
Waiting for me to fuck her.
And I do.
Deep and hard.
Until I fall over the edge.
18
Viviana
* * *
A noise coming from outside my room has me startling awake.
What time is it?
That’s when I notice that my door is ajar.
Why isn’t it closed? It’s supposed to be closed.
I’m about to get out of bed when I notice a cold feeling run through my chest. That’s when I look down and see that I’m not wearing anything.
I threw off my clothes and fell asleep.
Now the chill that attacks me isn’t from my naked body, but from the fact someone was recently inside my room and saw me like this.
I jump up from my bed and grab my robe, tying it tightly before I creep out the door.
No lights are on in the house, but regardless of that, I keep walking toward the stairs. Maybe Matteo is home? Maybe he came to see me? To apologize.
I’m not entirely sure where his room is, but I vaguely remember Giana saying it was in the other wing of the house.
When I get to the stairs, I decide not to go down them. Instead, I head toward the landing that will lead me to the other side of the house.
This side is dark, too.
I’m surprised.
I know the house has more security guards than a jail, yet no one is up here.
It’s eerily quiet. Ghost-like, even.
This is how a horror movie begins . . .
The dumb girl walks in the dark to her death. It seems pretty fitting right now. But as my brain starts to run wild with how I might die tonight, I see it. At the farthest point of the hallway, a light is on.
That’s where I’ll go.
Making my way to the door, I knock once, but when no one answers, I peek inside.
Curiosity killed the cat and all.
There is no one in the large suite, but in the corner, another light is on, and it sounds like water is running.
Maybe Matteo is brushing his teeth.
I only have to take a few steps before I have a perfect vantage point into the bathroom.
The door is swung open, and what I see has me gasping out loud. I quickly cover my mouth, not wanting to be heard
There’s Matteo.
I don’t know what shocks me more.
The way he has his head thrown back, chasing his ecstasy, or the red liquid I assume is blood pooling at his feet.
Is he hurt?
Should I check on him?
No. Of course not. He’s obviously not hurt if he’s touching himself.
I harbor another glance at him.
My face feels hot and tingly.
That’s not the only part of me that feels alive.
I have to get out of here before he catches me.
The idea of him seeing me here…
If he sees me, I’ll end up jumping on top of him and kissing him. I might have wanted that earlier, but now I don’t.
Who am I trying to kid? Of course, I want that, even after he left me, but I don’t want him to know how affected I am by him.
Slowly, without being heard, I step backward.
When I’m finally back in the hallway, I can breathe. My body is on fire from what I just saw. It feels like I’m a burning inferno, and nothing I do can put out the flames inside me.
Tiptoeing so I’m not caught, I make it back to my room.
With the door closed, I get back in the bed and will myself to go to sleep.
Sleep, however, won’t find me.
I can’t get the vision of Matteo touching himself out of my head.
No matter how hard I try, I see his hand moving up and down.
I wish it was me he was touching, and I wish I was the hand holding him.
Shit.
Now I’m all hot and bothered.
My nipples harden behind the robe, taunting me to touch them.
So, I do.
I have no choice. I’m a live wire ready to explode.
It’s the only thing that will calm me enough that I can find sleep.
The next morning, I wake up in my bed, robe now off, buck naked, and the memory of last night hits me like a tsunami.
Oh, dear God.
I saw him, and then . . .