“I can’t take it,” she pants quietly, her hips bucking harder against her hand like a needy little thing.
“Don’t stop now.”
Her orgasm slams into her, her fingers moving frantically as her thighs tremble and her head falls back against my shoulder.
“Fuck, that’s it. That’s mine. All of it,” I snarl, clamping my hand over her mouth. Her muffled cries vibrate against my palm, and it makes me even harder. She can scream all she wants, but no one will ever hear her but me.
She goes slack in my grip, melting against my lap.
I soft growl escapes my throat, unable to hold it back. “I could watch you ruin yourself like this every night.”
“I shouldn’t have done that.” She pants louder, her breathing becoming more forced.
“But you did,” I say and quickly spin her around and toss her on the bed. I slide between her legs, my eyes fixated on hers, relishing the sweet awkwardness and the veiled need for more. I grab her hand and drive her fingers into my lips, sucking her from them. “And you were fucking divine.”
My eyes close as I savor her taste, the image of her on all fours flashing in the corner of my deranged mind. Tight, trembling, and mine to take.
I lean in until my lips brush her ear, her trembling breath hitting my skin. She’s scared, turned on, trying not to fall apart, and I fucking love it.
“Sleep tight, Isabella. I’ll be awake, obsessed, replaying your sweet little moans and how I’m gonna fuck you until you forget how to beg.”
No one else gets her. Ever. I’ll make sure of it.
Fuck…
I can still feel how open I was, how I spread myself out for him to see without covering anything up.
Oh, fuck, the way I let myself be seen while wanting it to continue. I let him watch every part of me that I usually hide, and I stayed there instead of stopping it. And he saw everything. He heard every small sound I tried to hold back and failed to.
Now it sits heavy in my chest and stomach, mixing pleasure with disgust until I can’t separate them.
I remember the wetness between my thighs and how I didn’t rush to hide it. I remember how my body moved without me trying to make it look decent or restrained.
Now I have to exist in the same space as him, carrying this knowledge in my face and posture, knowing he’s seen me stripped down to something primitive.
I hate how much I enjoyed giving up control and being watched while I gave myself what I wanted. I hate that part of me is still turned on by the thought of it happening again, even while the rest of me wants to crawl inside myself and stay there.
At least today my father sent Adam out to take care of something, so he won’t be back until later tonight.
By then, I’ll be in my room with the door shut, not planning to see him.
It’s kind of weird that my father told him to leave.
What’s strange is that he actually sent him away fromme. And Adam, being Adam, grabs any excuse to pull Wes along with him and screw up his day. Those two can’t stand each other, and it’s obvious. Doesn’t stop him from keeping Wes close just to keep things tense.
That gives me some space to get myself together after what happened—even though I know it stays with me—and I can sit by myself without anyone watching me or checking where I am.
It’s just one of those thoughts that pops up sometimes. Stupid …
I’m never really by myself, and there’s always some level of attention on me even when I think I’m alone. I’ve made peace with that, no matter how much I hate it. I’ve just gotten used to it. Maybe enough that it just passes through my head without much reaction.
I walk past my father’s office, and the door is slightly open, which already feels a bit off. It’s even stranger when I notice he’s inside with someone else.
“You’re a smart man, Fabio,” one of them says in a slow, steady voice. “The bionic limb business is solid work.”
Father gives a small nod and taps the side of his pant leg with his cane.
“I don’t invest in things I wouldn’t trust to hold my own weight.”
