Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 65389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65389 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
“Congratulations,” he calls out before heading into the house. I want to holler back to save his congrats until I tell him he is going to be an uncle in six weeks, but I grit my teeth and turn towards her window. Her light is turned out. This should give me some peace for a moment, you would think. Allow me to go inside and rest, right? Wrong.
Instead of going inside to rest, I am once again stalking amongst the shadows toward her house, using the trees as cover. I come to the cellar door, and I can’t help wondering if her sister knew she was giving a huntsman an arrow when she gave me this key and information. She basically just handed me what she thought was the antidote for my illness, but it turns out she just gave me more of the drug.
Quietly, I unlock the door and hold it until I pull it closed and no light creeps in. Grabbing my phone from my pocket. I use it as light and make my way to the staircase that is obscured by the furnace. If you weren't looking for it, you would ignore it. Thank fuck, these damn things are made of wrought iron and don’t make a sound as I climb higher and higher to my addiction.
I push open the panel that opens into Adriel’s room and stick my head out looking for any evidence that anyone is awake and walking around. When I hear nothing, I move, closing the panel behind me and walking next door to Imogen’s room. I am surprised to find her twin is not here. I look at my clock and note it is almost midnight. Seems the only one always following the rules is my angel. Well, until tonight.
Walking slowly to her bed, I take in her peaceful face, and my heart starts doing flips. Everything about her, from her blonde, shiny hair to her creamy skin with rose-colored cheeks. Her slender neck helps to hold up the head with the most beautiful, plump lips I have ever seen.
I stand beside her bed, watching her breathe like a night stalker, my eyes perusing over her see-through gown, zeroing in on the rise and fall of her chest as she slumbers. Those ample tits, juicy like a pinup girl and perfectly round, with nipples that make me thirsty for the nourishment she will give our children.
“Alex.” Her eyes are still closed as she whispers my name in her sleep.
“I’m here, sweet girl,” I whisper back, moving her hair back from her face. Her leg is bent at the knee, and the other one is open. Her gown has moved up to her waist, and I lock in on the innocent virgin panties she has on. I almost belly laugh at the irony. She is officially my cockteasing little angel.
Taking a second to roam her room, I really look at it for the first time and see how sparse it is. There is not much in here besides two beds, a picture of Jesus on the wall, a lamp, and two side tables. “What the fuck.” I think out loud, pissed my girl is living like she is in prison. I walk over to her closet and open it.
As expected I find dresses she must wear for church and a couple of coats. The top has some shoes, and that is it. When I walk to what I presume is her drawer, I find it no better. She has button-up shirts, pants, a couple pairs of leggings that I have only seen her in at night, and some sweaters. Already my mind is being made up to take her shopping.
The last drawer I open has her underwear in it. Just lines of basic white panties. I close my eyes and put my hand over my swelling prick. I see her as she was on my bed, whining and out of her mind with a wet puddle on panties as virginal and basic as the one in my hands, and she has never looked sexier. I make a mental note to buy her all-white lingerie so when I want to relive the moment I took her, we can, over and over again.
I put the one in my hands over my nose, searching for a hint of her scent, but I smell nothing but bleach. My eyes search the ground, knowing she took off some before her soak, but no luck. Then, I see the bathroom and walk inside and like a Hail Mary, there, on the floor, is what I have been seeking. Like the sick fuck I am, I bend over and pick it, putting it straight to my nose and groan louder than intended, but shit, that smell is my new favorite air freshener.