Page 32 of Look My Way (Bloody Desires #1)

“Yeah.” I gently pull away, walking toward the stove to pull down two pans. “It was good. I finished reading over my book.”

“Ah yeah?” He whips his head back, holding his phone in his hand.

“Yup. Shouldn’t need many revisions.” Metal bangs against metal as I adjust everything on the stove, turning on one of the burners.

“So, you’re happy with it then?” he pipes back, tapping at his screen.

“I am,” I say, pride evident in my voice.

Too happy. It’s because for once I’m getting to have all the things I’m usually envious of when I write my characters having them.

It’s happening in my mind and outside my window, carrying over to my bedroom, and I want it to keep spreading.

I want him everywhere. But what if he doesn’t want to be.

I shake away thoughts of things Daniel has said in the past before they can come.

Daniel could be wrong. It’s possible Zavier will want to stay.

But what if he doesn’t?

My hand squeezes the spatula and my teeth grind together as I try to not look bothered by the war taking place in my head. I reach for the cooking spray, clinking the can against the glass canister full of flour to drown out any sound my frustration may be forcing out of my mouth.

“That’s good. I’m sure everyone else will be too, and then Rick the dick can get off your case for once.”

“I won’t hold my breath on that one,” I huff out.

“Don’t worry. Karma will catch up to that asshole in due time.

” His tone shifts to something sinister, and when I look back at him his expression is stone, his eyes distant.

“I’m going to go wash up. As much as I love our shower time together, I don’t want to eat dinner too late, and you look tired. ”

“I’m fine, but yeah, it’s better not to eat too late. We have lots of other days to share showers.”

“Yeah. A whole lot.” His lips turn up, eyes piercing into mine like a threat. That’s what it feels like. “We’ll be married soon and you’ll be seeing too much of me, so enjoy the breaks while you can.” He winks.

I fake a laugh, feeling a twisting sensation in my gut. We’re going to be married. I twist at my naked ring finger, then turn back to the stove, breathing in and out slowly.

When the bedroom door closes behind Daniel, I flit my eyes up, gaze aiming for the shed, as I stir the pasta in the pot of boiling water.

My hand skirts its way to my groin, my fingers tracing over the growing bulge, as I see a flash of black in the yard moving quickly behind the trees lining the back fence.

I didn’t leave him a message to come or highlight anything in my book tonight. I didn’t need to.

He knew to come already. Like he sensed me looking for him, my need to see him growing so desperate it was becoming hard to function—to feel strong enough.

Steam floats from the top of the pot and the shrimp sizzles in the pan as I pour it from the bowl. I add butter and seasoning, not tearing my eyes from the window. The black figure is still now, and there’s an adrenaline rush inside me.

I undo my pants and shove them down along with my underwear.

Stepping out of both, I kick them away and add my shirt on top, a shiver coming over me as I stand naked in my kitchen.

My gaze only leaves the man outside long enough for me to grab my apron from a hook in the pantry.

The soft fabric tickles my skin and I slip it over my neck, dragging the ties around my back.

He’s in exactly the same spot when I return to the window. The top of the apron, a little too big, hangs loose around my chest, and one of my nipples hangs out. Cool air sweeps over it, pebbling the sensitive skin as I move around the kitchen, finishing up dinner.

Looking down to check if the shrimp is cooked causes me to lose track of where he goes. My yard is so empty without him standing in it. My chest aches when I keep searching every corner, coming up empty-handed. Where’d he go? Did he not like what he saw?

My insecurities wrap around my throat like a vise, and my breaths are cut short.

I’m the only one who’ll ever stay. I’m the only one who’ll ever love you enough to.

Daniel’s painful words that always feel so damn heavy have me leaning over the counter, my hand lifting to turn off the stove as I gasp for air. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and open them as loud footsteps sound behind me.

His shower is done. Well duh, he never takes long ones when alone. Did I expect him to stay in there forever? What if seeing me in nothing but an apron makes him think I’m too sick to eat dinner? I don’t want him putting me to bed yet.

“I’m not ready to leave the window.” I freeze as soon as the words exit my mouth. A hand brushes over mine and as our fingers tangle, and thick fabric rubs over my skin causing sparks to shoot up my arm.

“You don’t have to, pequeno.” Whispers tickle my ear. “You can leave it whenever you feel you’re ready.”

“You’re here,” I say, taking in his reflection in the window as he hovers behind me.

“I am.”

“But I didn’t leave anything in the document,” I rasp.

“You didn’t have to. That short response was all I needed to know where I was going to end up tonight “

We’ve never talked like this before. Him as my stalker and me wrapped in fear mixed with adrenaline from him sneaking inside without me noticing. We’re talking and he’s still here. Neither of our words spoke out loud have ruined the illusion. Will turning around take this all away?

“And Daniel?” Short panic has my breaths coming out strangled.

“Sleeping. Don’t worry about him. Just keep looking for me like you always do and let me help you feel good. Show me how strong you are. How much you can take from me.”

I pant, mouth opening and closing as I meet his gaze in the mirror, arching my back as his fingers dance around my nipples.

“That’s right, my pretty boy. Look my way. Keep looking my way.”

A hand lightly wraps around my neck and gloved fingers rub between my crease, slipping lower until they’re grazing my hole.

Arousal has me in a chokehold, and my head spins as I try to breathe normally.

I’m so overwhelmed by how good this all feels.

I lift myself halfway off the ground onto my toes, his hand on my throat carrying most of my weight as he reaches for my cock under the apron.

“So pretty. Look how good you’re doing. You can do anything, pequeno.”

“Say the other nickname,” I demand, with conviction strong in my tone. “Call me what you usually call me when you see me outside the window and mask.”

“Carino.” His hot breath heats my cheek, fingers tugging at my strained cock. He rips off my apron in one pull and my bruises are also visible in the reflection with us.

“Carino,” he says again, voice melting in my ears like hot honey.

I shiver, setting my heels back on the ground, and my teeth chatter as the lap of his tongue on my neck cools my heated skin.

“I want you so damn much. In every way. In here, in the bedroom, in the backyard, and out on the patio in the bright sunlight.”

“You’re here. You’re really here.”

“I’m here.” His cheek brushes over mine, palm gliding up and down my length, pumping me faster in his closed fist. My hips jolt, my chest lifting to the sky, and I feel the rest of me slowly follow as sweet sensations erupt inside me.

“This feels so real.” It always does. I really need to know it is right now. I need more evidence. More aches on my body. More him. More, more, more.

“That’s because it is. We’re more real than anything in this world. Look at us.”

His mask lifts away from his face, revealing the bottom half first before slipping fully off. Those same eyes bore into mine, and his lips curl into a smile, his scar curving with them.

“Look at me and look at you. Watch us create something together that no one can ever take.” He tugs off his shirt.

More scars cover his body between the tattoos.

He’s gorgeous. It’s hard to think as I watch him stripping until he’s bare like me.

His hip rests against my cheeks and his hand is moving on my cock again, his tongue licking at my ear. “Don’t stop looking.”

I miss his warmth when he puts space between our bodies, and then wet fingers caress my hole shutting down my brain.

One digit breaks past my entrance, wet and sloppy sounding as he shoves it in and out.

I lift my hips, fucking against his stalling hand.

It stops moving again but stays wrapped around me, his skin creating friction against mine with each lift of my body.

“Yes,” I say between clenched teeth. “More. No more being gentle. I can take it.”

“I know you can, and you will, like my good boy.”

“I want to be your good boy,” I cry out, my words knowing no limits as he tucks into me with two fingers. They curl when he’s deep enough, hitting my sweet spot. Oh fuck. Stars take over my vision, but I blink them away so I can keep looking at us. So I can keep seeing with clear eyes.

“I know, carino. I know. And I want to be your everything.” Fingers scissor inside me and I’m a whimpering mess, tears leaking from my eyes at the heightening sensations on my sensitive nerve endings.

“You can say it. You can call me what you have in your head. What Lex calls his lover toward the end of your book. What the boy you were envying called the bigger man in the video you were watching when you first saw me out your window.”

My ears ring, my body coming alive with every touch and word. Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. The words stay trapped in my head, begging to break free, but they won’t move past my lips when I open them.

“Look at me and say it.” He nips at my ear and I moan, bucking my hips as I chase both his hands. My body is trapped in the best way. Unable to escape pleasure. Unable to escape us.

My eyes open wider and I lick my lips. He rubs a hand down my back, pressing a gentle kiss to my shoulder.