Page 18 of Stockholm (Angel of Mercy #1)

The Keeper

W hy does this stuck-up bitch keep me rock hard?

Just one brush of our lips, of her sweet little doe eyes on mine, and I’m ready to rip the fabric from her body and fuck her into the mattress.

She’s still sitting up in bed, staring at the door I’d walked out of five minutes ago before heading to the office and opening my laptop to watch her.

I hadn’t planned on humiliating her again, but the thought that she’s affecting me so much, that she has me hard just from the slightest touch, pissed me off. It feels like a loss of control. I had to make a quick escape before she realized what she had done and decided to use it to her advantage.

The problem is even larger than that. After our last conversation, I’m starting to believe her.

As stupid and naive as it makes her look, she’s taking up for her husband.

She does believe in him, and she does love him.

There’s just nothing fake about her, her every goddamn emotion shining through her eyes like she’s never had to lie or deceive for a moment of her life.

She believes in their innocence. She believes that I’m a bad guy who’s out to hurt her family. Her friend.

What does this mean for her? Originally, I’d planned on using her for more information on Eric before breaking her down for being complicit in hurting someone I loved.

It was an added plus that possessing her would be a perfect way to control and anger Eric while we finalized our plans to topple the criminal enterprise he’s becoming more complicit in.

Now it’s harder to figure out a path forward.

There’s still a sick part of me that wants to debase her.

There’s something deeply satisfying about the thought of ruining this innocence she carries around herself.

Of shoving her face in the dirt and hiking her ass up in the air as I fuck her in one of her sweet little sundresses.

Showing her fucking evil husband how thoroughly I could use and abuse his angel .

The woman he’s seemingly kept hidden away from all his nefarious bullshit.

My eyes roll at the thought, the idea making me even harder.

I lean back in the computer chair, unzipping my jeans as I turn back to the camera.

She’s wrapped her arms around herself, and looks deep in thought.

Maybe she’s replaying our conversation, the way it had felt for her when I got so close.

She was feeling it, same as me. She’s probably denying that truth to herself right now.

It makes me smile as I pull my cock free and wrap my hand around it.

I jerk myself as I watch her shoulders roll forward, at the thought she might feel guilty about her body wanting me to be close. Feeling like she’s betraying her husband for wanting me, even if she’s not fully aware of the fact that she does.

I bet there’s a lot she’s not fully aware of.

I could show her.

This turn of events feels better. Blondie’s too compliant to inspire much anger in me, especially now that I’m starting to believe she isn’t aware of what her husband is getting them involved with.

With someone like Emma—who’s just radiating that softness that she has to her—it’s hard to truly treat them badly.

You just can’t or you start to feel like one of those assholes that tears the wings off bugs or something.

She just looks nice. Sweet . Like she’d offer you lemonade and a chair if you wandered by and needed it.

I told her the truth. I’m not the monster. So maybe things change a little, and I don’t put the fear of God into her until she’s spilling all her secrets. Maybe I just give in a little to this urge inside me to taste that sweetness, because I know it will make Eric fucking crazy .

My grip on my cock tightens as she adjusts her blanket and curls up in a ball, pulling it tighter around her, strawberry blonde hair wild on the pillow. In my head I burst through the door, scaring her as she jolts back up, l fist her hair and plow into that sweet little mouth of hers.

I bet the doe eyes would stay locked on mine, as I used her in ways that Eric never had.