Page 47 of Intrigue
I cup my cock in my hands and run the insides of my palm across the tip, smearing the pre-come already beading there. The wind whips up my hair, but the shiver that works its way down my spine isn’t because of that. It’s because of Selene and my desperation to have her, to own her, to ruin her like she’s ruined me.
My obsession with Selene makes me more of a brute than a man, and I revel in it because that’s who I am and who I’ll always be. She’s driven me mad, and I think she knows this. She fucking revels in it.
You know what you do to me, don’t you? You love watching me rot for you.
She knows how much power she wields, and she uses it to punish me. She holds me captive even as I massage the hardness of my flesh, squeezing until it hurts, until I hiss.
More pre-come hits my palm, and I run it up and down my length, feeling every bit of it course through me—electric, filthy, wrong. I need this. I need to feel this sweetness and pain to be rid of the jealousy and loss of control I now feel, this tormenting ache she’s injected into my very core.
“Fuck, Selene, you’ve wrecked me,” I rasp, my voice breaking.
I change pace, rolling my hand up and down my shaft, faster, harder. When my mind goes back to the thought of Selene, I concoct a different version, one where she is softer and more carefree and deeply in tune with what I feel for her.
I imagine her back in my bed, her hair tousled in the sheets, eyes closed tight, thighs parted just for me. I wake her with a soft kiss to the top of her head and push my fingers underneath her dress even though she is asleep, dragging them slowly and possessively over her wet heat.
I cherish those moments when she’s caught between sleep and awareness—when her body responds to mine instinctively. Like an invisible thread connects us, her unconscious self recognizes me, reaches for me, even before her mind fully wakes. It’s as if our souls have synchronized, transcending the boundary between dreams and reality.
“See how wet you are for me. Even half asleep you want my cock inside you,” I’d whisper, imagining her gasping, arching into me.
She doesn’t hate me in this version. And she doesn’t question where my loyalties lie. Instead, she wraps her arms around me to draw me into her body, her nails digging into my back like she’s claiming me too.
Even though she’s still woozy from sleep, she kisses me back, and I harden here even more, my cock throbbing to the point where it feels like I might bust if I continue. I feel lightheaded from the blood pounding in my head and in my cock, but in mymind, Selene kisses me with wild passion, the kind that can’t be placated or soothed.
“Take it, Selene. Fucking take me,” I groan aloud, stroking myself faster.
I continue to stroke myself, reaching where I am most hard, where the skin around my shaft is deliciously tender, and I imagine that it’s Selene touching me there—her soft, cruel hands jerking me off, owning me. I bring my hand back to my mouth and lick it, tasting salt and shame, before returning back to my cock, wet and sloppy now.
In my head, Selene bites down hard against my lower lip, enough to draw blood, and then runs her tongue over the sting to soothe it down, her breath hot against my skin.
“I missed you,” she tells me, and I stiffen, feeling like I can’t breathe. “I missed you so much I couldn’t do anything but wait. I was waiting for you, waiting for you to fuck me like this.”
Yeah? You missed this cock, didn’t you?
Pre-ejaculation drips from my tip. I use my open palm to run the liquid up my length and imagine that it’s her tongue doing the work, licking me clean, sucking me dry. I let out a loud groan as the movements become faster, more desperate, my hips jerking into my fist.
Because in my head, she’s knelt before me a thousand times, taking me in deep in her mouth, gagging on me while her eyes water and lock on mine.
“Oh, fuck, yeah, baby… suck it. Choke on it. You exist to be like this for me,” I grunt, lost in the fantasy of her lips stretched around me.
My need is greedy and overpowering and strikes me even now. I ache for her. I burn, in fact, for a taste, for her here with me, touching me and sucking me until I come inside her mouth, until she swallows every drop like she’s starving for it. It’s theonly thing I can think of as I continue the onslaught of my hand on my cock, relentless, punishing, addicted.
Take it all, Selene. Fucking beg for it.
And suddenly, I can feel myself giving in to the sweetness, the dark, filthy rush. I am about to come, and I know that there is no stopping this now. Even now, I feel the surge coming over me, and I give in completely to it, letting it rip me apart. I’m grunting like an animal as I spill into my hand, slick and thick with my juices, hot ropes of cum painting the ground while I shudder and curse.
“Selene—fuck, Selene!” I groan her name into the space, loud and wrecked, because I want her to hear, and I want her to see how much I want her—how much she’s turned me into this depraved, obsessed shell.
After cleaning myself up, I put my pants back on and bring out my phone to call her. I can masturbate with the thought of her, but the tension hasn’t yet dissolved. The only thing I can think of next that would be able to help me is to call her and tell her about the past—spill every dirty secret, every rotten truth. And I do. I dial her number, press it to my ears, and wait for her to pick up.
The line rings. No answer. Straight to voicemail.
My heart thunders against my ribs as I draw in a shaky breath.
“I know this is too late to say all of this now, but I’m going to say it anyway because I’ve carried this weight for far too long.” My voice breaks. “I thought keeping it from you would protect you. That if you hated me, you’d be safe. But all I’ve done is lead you right back to the very thing I swore to protect you from. I’m so sorry, Selene. For everything. But I had to let you hate me.
“I’ve been living with this lie for five years, and it’s eating me alive. That night—that terrible night—I found you standing over Edoardo, blood everywhere, and I discovered something thatchanged everything. I couldn’t tell you because there was only one choice: take the fall and let you hate me. So I did. I shattered us because I had to. I let your hatred become my cross to bear because it was the only way to keep your heart beating and keep you from finding out what your father did.”
“I should have told you years ago. Everything you believe about that night is wrong. I took the fall because... because there are things you don’t know about who you really are. About what your father did...”