Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22167 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 111(@200wpm)___ 89(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
The redhead drops my raven back at her place before hugging her and driving away.
I desperately want to be close to her to know what she is doing, what she eats, what her favorite drink is. Does she sleep in pajamas or completely naked like I do? When I can’t take it anymore, I start looking for ways to get inside her space. There is no way I will let anyone else watch her. I don’t trust anyone else with my raven.
The first opportunity I get, I break into her apartment.
It is midnight.
Her place is cramped, poorly lit, and a dive. She lives in a studio, barely enough space for anyone to move around in. One tiny room encompasses a barely usable kitchen and an area with a fold-out sofa that is currently formed into a bed. My sweet angel is lying there, folded on her side. She looks so much more fragile in sleep. Her perfect red lips slightly parted, her black hair fanning across the white pillows, a stark contrast. And a small room located to the side contains a stained toilet and a bathtub that desperately needs to be replaced.
Staring at the place, I know that there is no way I’ll allow her to keep living like this. A fuckin’ animal deserves better than this pile of shit. I open her fridge and peer at the contents inside. Barely any real food… She has some coffee cream, peanut butter, and a loaf of bread. Her cupboards don’t fare any better, with a box of crackers and some ramen noodles. No wonder she is so thin. She barely eats. I will fix that, even if I have to tie her to a chair and force a steak down her throat.
I remember what it was like, worrying about how we were going to keep the lights on or worrying about money being left over for food. The worried look on my mother’s fearful gaze is etched in my memory. She’d managed to keep my sister away from all the worries. Still, I was the man of the house after my father died. The responsibility fell on me, so I did what I needed to do to keep them safe, even if it meant my safety became inconsequential.
I glance at my raven sleeping soundly. She has no clue that an animal is walking free in her space, an animal who has become fixated on her, who will do anything to possess her. At that moment, I vow that there is no way I will let her go hungry ever again.
I slowly open the tap, and a violent creaking sound blares in the room. My gaze shoots to Clarissa, who is still sleeping as if there isn’t a predator in her room. The fucking taps don’t even work correctly. There is nothing in her small space that is suitable. Absolutely nothing.
My eyes focus on a small dresser beside a rolling rack that she seems to be using as a makeshift closet. I pull the top drawer open and notice an array of panties. Nothing too extravagant, mostly basic cotton in black, white, and nude. I take one of the black ones and place it on my face while inhaling. It regretfully doesn’t contain her scent, but it had been on her skin.
She rustles in her sleep. The blanket has shifted with her movements, and her tit is exposed. She doesn’t have on a bra, and one perfect pink nipple is exposed to my ravenous eyes. My dick gets rock hard instantly. I adjust myself and realize that the only thing that could end my torment is release.
I approach her bed and unzip my pants, holding my dick in my hand like a pervert. I know what I’m doing is wrong, but the need is too great. I lick my hand before placing it on my length. I pump my cock in my hand, slow at first, picturing her tongue licking me from root to tip like I am a lollipop in her favorite flavor. Clarissa sighs and moves her face, now directly in line with my dick. I pump harder, picturing her lying there, her mouth open wide while I plow the back of her throat. The image of her sucking me off is so strong that I come right there in her black cotton panties. My fingertip brushes the head of my cock as I collect some of my come and touch it on her slightly opened mouth. I know I should be careful. She could wake up screaming and ruin all my plans, but the need to mark her, leave her with my scent, overpowers me, making me lose all reason. I don’t even care because the little raven was mine from the moment she stepped into my club.
Chapter Four