Page 69

Her pleas are the sweetest song.

I kiss a trail along her flesh, tonguing her belly button, suctioning one perfect nipple into my mouth. When we’re face to face, her eyes are glassy, slightly unfocused.

“Please, Storm.” The words are a prayer.

My cock drips as I rub against her lower lips, and I’m resisting every instinct to rut into her like an animal.

But then she runs her hand down my ribs and across my hips until she grasps my dick in her delicate palm. I shudder when she presses me there.

Right there—at her opening.

“I need you inside me now, baby,” she whispers against my lips. And when I claim her mouth, I claim her body, surging into her on a smooth thrust. The sensation overwhelms all my senses as her walls clamp onto me, squeezing.

Not letting me go.

“Fuck, you’re tight, Sweetness,” I grind out.

“I’m sorry,” spills from her lips, and I release a feral growl. That’s the only way to describe it.

“What did I tell you about your ‘sorrys,’ Sweetness?” I hold her gaze for one heartbeat before withdrawing nearly to the tip and pounding into her so hard she shifts up the bed, and her tits bounce with the force.

“Storm, Storm, Storm…” She takes everything I have to give her—every inch of my dick, every corner of my soul.

“You’re mine, Shae,” I rasp, snapping my hips into hers as if I could merge our bodies into one. “You’remine.”

“I’m yours,” she confirms, her words broken. And then she squeezes around me, coming hard on my dick, and it’s game over because?—

My eyes snap open, and I’m ashamed to say my hand is already wrapped around my hard-on, squeezing just beneath the head as I spurt hard against my bedsheets like a teenager.

My cold bed sheets. Where I’m alone and there’s certainly no Shae present.

“Fuuuuuck,”I groan, stroking angrily to wring out my orgasm. Since I’m already diving down the road of depravity, I might as well get the best nut out of it possible.

My heart hammers against my chest as I slow my movements in time to the weakening contractions of my dick, stroking, stroking, until there’s nothing left in me.

So I’ve reached the wet dream stage of obsession.

My chuckle falls flat in the empty room.

I wipe my hands on my already dirty sheets and flop back on my pillows. And I smile.

It’s Sunday. At least I get to see Shae today.

I’m proud of myself for not abducting her from the hospital and hiding her away in my apartment. Instead, I’m giving her space, allowing her to set the pace of this thing brewing between us.

Ourrelationship.

I respect her—her brain, her body, her agency. She’s no one to fuck with, and she doesn’t need me to fight her battles, but that doesn’t mean I won’t watch over her from afar.

That doesn’t mean I won’t do what’s necessary to keep her safe.

I’ll make sure Shae is happy and protected, even if it turns out she’ll never come to me.

Even if that means killing someone who would do her harm.

She’ll come around. I know she will. I’m not the only one feeling this.

I stand from my bed, grateful I sleep naked and don’t have to worry about stripping sticky boxers from my body. Moving to the bathroom, I start up the shower and wash my hands.