Page 20

GIDEON

T he second I finally step beneath the hot water of my shower, my fist closes over my aching length and begins to stroke.

With no intentional thought behind it, my mind instantly conjures images of Winnow—her big, ocean blues looking up at me as her full, pouty lips and pink tongue wrap around my cock.

Her long, curvy legs bent at the knees and parted wide for me.

Her pussy dripping with need as I ease the fat head of my dick inside her, gradually pumping into her as she stretches around me, adjusting to my size, before I slide all the way home.

What the fuck am I doing?

Forcing the thoughts away, I try to summon nearly any other female, and my dick immediately starts to soften in response.

There’s a throbbing in my chest that has nothing to do with my heartbeat and when I finally give into it, succumbing to every depraved vision my mind illustrates of Winnow, only then does my dick harden to the point of pain and my orgasm begins to rise.

It’s honestly just plain fucking rude that she refuses to leave my mind. That she’s the only one I can think about as a thundering orgasm washes over me, cock pulsing as my cum splatters the tile wall in front of me.

God damn infuriating that I can’t help but imagine it’s her pussy I’m filling with my seed. With a groaned curse, my dick gives its final spasm, and I’m left leaning with both hands against the wall, panting and more frustrated than I’ve been in a long fucking time.

Apparently, jerking off once wasn’t enough to soften my dick in the slightest, but after two nearly back-to-back sessions it dimmed my arousal to a half-chub instead of a full-blown erection.

I stop in my tracks when I reach the living room. Winnow is curled up on the pull-out bed with Trigger beside her. He lifts his head, tail thumping against the blankets as he looks up at me.

Of course, she would let the soppy bastard climb on the bed with her.

And, guessing by the bowl on the floor, she gave him some of her stew, too.

My chest gives a painful twinge.

I should just let her sleep on the pull-out. I should go back to my room. Leave her be. I should drive her all the way to Harlan’s and make her his problem since he was the one who couldn’t follow ‘protocol’.

I should forget all about her.

Pretend I never laid eyes on her.

But instead, I silently close the distance between us and scoop her up into my arms, holding her more tightly than necessary against my chest. My breath catches when her face nuzzles against my chest, and her fingers curl around the fabric of my shirt.

Trigger follows us into my bedroom, where I carefully settle her on my bed. He doesn’t dare jump on the bed here. Not with me in the room. He knows better.

Her eyes drift open, and before I can turn to leave, her fingers close over my wrist and for some godforsaken reason, I feel the action mirrored in my dick. Winnow hesitates for a moment, her pillowy lips parted with words she hesitates to speak.

“… Thank you, again. For everything. I promise I’ll do all I can to make your life easier while I’m here.”

Intuition tells me there were other words balanced on the tip of her tongue that she chose to neglect, but before I can say otherwise, Trigger plops his butt down on the ground right beside the bed, jamming his snout at her to beg for pats.

Heaving a sigh, I shake my head. “Boy, get over here.”

Instead of cooperating, Trigger lies down as his ears go limp and he gives a pleading whine for permission to stay.

Winnow’s grin has gooey feelings blossoming in my heart as she coos to him and strokes his head, making his tail thump wildly against the bedside table.

My eyes narrow at him as he gives me a guilty look, but continues to glut himself on her affections. “Never took you for a traitor.”

“Be sweet to Daddy, I’m sure he needs his cuddle buddy tonight.

” Daddy. Her words alone have a near-instantaneous effect on my dick, making it harder than fucking steel.

To top it all off, there’s a soft and tender look lingering on her face from showering Trigger with her love, as her eyes lift mine.

Thank fuck I’d already had my manhood trapped in the waistband of my boxers and pajama pants, and the hem of my t-shirt is long enough to cover the weeping head and semi-exposed shaft of my dick.

Daddy.

Goddamn it, now I’ve gotta jerk off again.