Great. More wall repairs.
I wanted to taste her, he said quietly.
“You’ve never wanted the taste of a whore before,” I muttered, twisting the knob until the shower roared to life.
I stared at the stream as steam began to rise—and with it, her scent. It didn’t linger politely. It surged. Thick, warm, and cloying, it bloomed through the room and wrapped around me like a living thing. Oakmoss and vetiver cut sharp beneath the heat, grounded and dark, while jasmine threaded through it all—sweet enough to turn my stomach.
It felt concentrated now, distilled by the steam, as if it had seeped into my lungs, my skin—my blood. I swallowed, jaw tightening, caught between the urge to scour it from myself and the sick pull to stand there and breathe it in. Again. And again.
I licked my lips despite myself.
My cock jerked in response, and I glanced at it in disgust. It refused to soften.
What about you?Fenrir asked, challenging me.
Rub it in, he mimicked.
Heat flared in my cheeks—shame.
And?I shot back.I always made them lick the floor clean before they left.
But we both knew the truth.
I wanted my scent to mar her flesh—to sink in, to penetrate—the same way hers already had.
I bared my teeth and forced myself to step into the shower.
But even as I washed myself from head to toe, I couldn't fully remove her scent.
???
After a long walk outside and several cigarettes, I came back inside, shutting the door firmly behind me. I glanced at the stairs, still torn, before climbing them, my hand dragging along the polished wood. My grip tightened as her scent lingered.
I really needed to get her door fixed. The only reason I hadn’t was because I knew she was already trapped—mentally.
I stepped into the dark room and drew in a breath, my scent mingling with hers. Fenrir joined me as I inhaled again. It was more palatable like this. After a few more breaths, I began to undress.
Scent or no scent, she needed to feel my presence.
I grimaced as I lifted the covers.
Why did she smell so damn good?
I slid into the bed and lay there staring at the ceiling. That’s when it hit me—waiting until next Friday might not be an option.
Fuck.
I turned away from her sleeping form and closed my eyes.
???
I grunted awake, arching my hips before I fully registered why. My arm was locked around her chest, my dick and knot pressed between the heat of her arse cheeks. Soft. Warm. My cock dripped with need.
I glanced behind me, taking in the empty expanse of the bed. Somehow, in my sleep, I’d crowded her to the edge—so close she was nearly falling off.
I cursed under my breath as Fenrir’s smug satisfaction seeped into me.
Too early for this shit.
