Waking up to an almost-stranger in my bed shouldn’t feel this peaceful after a lifetime of always watching my back, yet here we are. I also only realize I’ve fallen asleep with my pants down when I almost fall over after getting out of bed. My face floods with heat when I sense that I’m also a bit crusty and sore between my legs. Because it’s shameful, and I should not find it as arousing as I do.
I’ll be dead before Dalton sees me this way, so I rush to the bathroom to get myself in order. Just because he railed me last night, doesn’t mean I won’t be showing him who runs this house when he opens his eyes.
As I take the shower, my mind floods with memories of sex with him so intensely, I end up jerking off, because it’s ridiculous to be this obsessed with someone. I need to get it out of my system so I don’t accidentally daydream about his fingers in my mouth and end up hard at breakfast.
Maybe I need to get my hormones checked? Mom would know a good endocrinologist.
She calls me while I’m making coffee, and I realize I’ve already have two missed calls from her since yesterday. Oh well, I’m not in the mood to be interrogated, so I don’t answer. If it were an actual emergency,she would have used thespecialphone. I appreciate that she doesn’t abuse that one, or we’d have a girl who cried wolf situation on our hands.
With warm brew in my favorite cup, I drift upstairs, eager for another move in my customary game of chess against myself. I’m a creature of habit, and my pre-workout routine would not be complete without it.
But too fucking bad, because the game I’ve been playing since late in November isover, apparently.
The mug shakes in my hand so rapidly some of the hot coffee spills over my fingers, and I mutter in anger, because shit was starting to get interesting on the board! Only one person could have done this, the one intruder in my home, but maybe it is my fault? Dalton probably saw that it wasn’t off limits and decided to go wild.
I should have known better than to—
I cock my head at a Post-it-note stuck to the table on which the chess set lives.
‘I did a bit of cleaning. Hope I put it back right! :)’,reads the note and I rub my forehead. One glance at the chess board tells me it’s notright, yet I’m still endeared by his good intentions. Should I find a man as big and brutish as Dalton cute? Just last night, he admitted to several murders over soup, and then fucked my thighs so hard they’re pink now.
How do I handle this?
Corvus Van der Horn is a solitary creature, who doesn’t mate for anything but brief moments of pleasure, and who occupies his lair alone.
Dalton is… an unexpected distraction. An intruder…
“Oh, there you are!” said intruder exclaims, and before I know it, I’m swooped up into a hug from behind. “You left me a note yesterday that you’ll teach me how to use the coffee machine. Can we do that now? Or is the kitchen too fucked up?” He doesn’t waste time and kisses his way up my neck, overwhelming me with affection first thing in the morning.
I go rigid, and I’m disgusted by the way my fingers splay like the branches of a leafless tree, but I don’t want to be crass and push Dalton away either, so I end up doing nothing while he rubs me with his big, meaty palms.
Does he want sex? Someone like him must have a huge libido, and unless I’ll be open to outsourcing some of that, I might have my hands f—
What the fuck am I even considering?
No. No, I do not want him to fuck someone else. That would beat the point of having him want me, and wait for me, and be ready whenIneed to take the edge off. And that means I’ll... have to satisfy him somehow.
But this would go against my routine.
“I was… going out.”
“Oh? Where? You better not leave me here in case I set myself on fire,” Dalton jokes, as if it’s no big deal that he inhaled a bunch of smoke yesterday.
I slide out of his embrace but grab two of his fingers and pull him along with me so he can get a coffee too. I’m not a monster.
“This is not something to laugh at. You could have died,” I mutter, leading the way downstairs. I glare at his pajamas, reminding myselfDalton only has a single set of good clothes now. Perhaps we could go shopping later, so he has enough of everything? “I jog every morning.”
Dalton’s smile widens. “Sweet! I love jogging. You wouldn’t think with my physique and all, but I like to do it all.”
My gaze stalls on his chest as I salivate, remembering how it felt to the touch. “Yoga?”
His eyebrows rise. “Err… I’d try it. Good to be bendy, right?” As soon as we’re back in the ruins of my kitchen, complete with tar on the wall, melted utensils, and muddy tracks left by the first responders, he wraps his arm around my waist. It’s impossible to push him away because despite his goofy behavior, he’s so addictive. His pheromones do something to my brain. Maybe he imprinted on me that first time I let him fuck me, and now there’s no way back? Maybe I’m addicted and won’t know peace if he doesn’t rail me every single day?
I push away thoughts of him doing me on the kitchen counter while the coffee brews, and switch on the cold water before spraying my face with it. I can’t be thinking about fucking all the time. I have work to do and a real life to lead, so I focus on the minute things and show my new roommate how to use my expensive, coffee-shop grade espresso machine. It hurts to see him burn quality grinds, but one needs practice to learn how to do it correctly at some point, so I don’t voice my frustration.
When he eventually has a half-decent cup of coffee, I say my goodbyes, only to be stopped by a hand on my shoulder.
“Hey. Corvus. I meant it. I want to come too,” he complains and makes those hurt puppy eyes at me. “If I wanted to run away, I would have done it at the hospital. I need to move. I can’t just sit here and watch Netflix. Oh, you could also play the violin for me.”
