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My mind struggled to comprehend that there were facets of her life hidden from me. She was my obsession, my muse, and the thought that there were now aspects of her existence that I did not know made me want to crawl out of my skin. I prided myself on knowing everything about her—from the mundane to the intimate details, like her period cycle or the way she preferred to wear her hair. Faced with the reality that there were gaps in myknowledge, the anger intensified, transforming into a volatile concoction of frustration.
Hauling my bag downstairs, I felt anticipation knotting my stomach. The urgency to reach her propelled me into my car, tires screeching as I sped off into the long drive ahead.
It was an incredibly tiring drive before I arrived at the hotel; my legs carried the burden of driving for several hours. The receptionist's attempts at flirtation fell on deaf ears as I checked in, Luna the only woman occupying my thoughts.
Navigating through the lackluster surroundings—a mediocre entry, threadbare sheets, and a wonky elevator—I recognized the inevitable compromise of luxury in such a small town. The only redeeming feature was the breathtaking mountain views, and the fact that I was closer to Luna than I had been in months.
I tossed my bag into the modest hotel room, driven by an insatiable need to catch the slightest trace of her. I stealthily made my way to the bakery she had opened, parking inconspicuously before slipping into the shadows.
There, behind the cover of a tree, I observed her closing up shop with her friend. My eyes devoured every detail—her sparkling eyes revealing a genuine passion for her work, her long hair that she gracefully flipped back every time it fell into her face, and her full lips forming a genuine smile each time her friend engaged her in conversation.
She had a profound effect on me, stirring a tempest within that defied control. My temperature soared, hands trembling with a longing for her. Not even the most dangerous men in the country could evoke a reaction from me, yet she had the power to make my body quiver with an insatiable need for her presence. It was a force that tested the limits of my self-imposed restraint,threatening to shatter the composed facade I meticulously maintained.
"Fuck," I growled. I couldn't control the way my body reacted after not seeing her for so long. My cock hardened, inducing sharp pains in my groin. Used to having her every day, being without her for so long caused constant physical pain.
I watched transfixed as she took a bite into a cream-glazed donut. Her fingers got smeared slightly, and she put them up to her mouth before sucking on them. Her pink tongue sneaked out for a second to lick the cream off, and I couldn't hold myself much longer.
My dick strained against my jeans, and I looked around quickly, ensuring no one was nearby before taking it out. I stared at my wife as she took another bite, leaving traces of white cream behind on her luscious upturned lips.
Her eyes closed, and even from here, I could tell that she let out a little moan. Damn, I missed those moans of hers. Wrapping my hand around my dick, I proceeded to jack off while I stalked my wife. Stalking what was rightfully mine, yet I was denied. My hand squeezed my cock harder, moving faster and faster.
Suddenly, her eyes moved towards where I was. Those innocent brown eyes were looking in my direction, as if staring straight at me. Then, her tongue came out to lick the cream residue on her lips. It was at this moment that I unraveled, my dick spurting out load after load of hot white cum onto the green grass.
I was going to punish her later for letting my sperm go to waste. If I came, it was supposed to be in her mouth, pussy, or ass, because my pleasure was for her only.
She then turned to look at her friend, who was off to the side, whom I completely forgot existed. Just like I suspected, shedidn't catch me. She wouldn't have been so composed if she saw her husband, from whom she was running away, jerking his meat to the sight of her.
My dick was getting tired from my hand, but it wasn't going to be long before it felt her touch again. It belonged to her at the end of the day.
Chapter 8
Luna
?It's been a few days since I hurriedly left that bar. The woman's intense stare rattled me, sending a cold shiver down my spine. The unease lingered even after we departed. To conceal it, I had persuaded Christy and Simon to call it a night. Despite their hesitation, upon seeing my pale face, they presumed it was the booze hitting me hard.
Simon, a true gentleman, offered to drive Christy’s car since she was drunk. He dropped me off at my apartment building first, drove Christy to her home before parking her car, and then took a cab back home.
Doubt clawed at my sanity, making me question if I was losing my mind. It felt like I was being hunted, observed every second. Like prey on the edge, waiting for the predator to strike. The constant feeling of being was crushing me, it was feeling I couldn’t shake off. Whether I was busting my ass in the bakery, strolling the streets, or grabbing groceries, my nerves were on edge.
Every sudden move or unexpected noise had me flinching, trapped in this messed-up fight-or-flight loop. It was as if he had found me, and the sick certainty that he'd show up soon gnawed at my gut.
The maddening thought that he might be near, the idea of his watchful eyes on me, stirred an unsettling blend of fear and arousal within. My body, traitorous as it was, reacted with an unwanted surge of desire. It infuriated me.
He was a monster, a cheater, and I wouldn't entertain the notion of letting him anywhere near me, no matter how my body seemed to betray my better judgment.
My thoughts went back to Simon. God, I wished I was attracted to him. Perhaps, just perhaps, the attraction would come after I felt his touch. I was willing to try. I refused to still be hung up over Adrik.
Suddenly, the scratching and yowls from Peanut at the front door echoed through my apartment, causing my heart to race. Annoyed and a little freaked out, I stumbled over to the door, peering through the peephole. Nothing. Nevertheless, Peanut persisted, compelling me to cautiously open the door. To my surprise, a bouquet of white peonies greeted me, carefully arranged and placed in front of my entrance.
Picking up the bouquet and closing the door, I noticed a note. I tore it open, my hands shaking uncontrollably. The words inside hit me like a punch to the gut: "All the paths you take lead to me, even the ones you take to forget me."
Panic surged through me, and I angrily tossed the white peonies onto the nearby couch. Unable to contain my anxiety, I paced the room, my fingers clenching and unclenching in my hair. Who the hell sent these flowers? Did he find me?
Collapsing onto the floor, I battled the overwhelming fear that all the sweat and tears poured into hiding might mean absolutely nothing in the end. As Peanut approached, offering comfort with a gentle lick, I pet him, grappling with the harsh reality closing in on me.
Seated there, it felt like an eternity as I tried to process the implications of the note. Rage clawed at me; he had already consumed too much of my time. I refused to stew in thoughtsof him any longer. Let him show up, witness that I wouldn't crumble easily.
I dragged myself up, slapped water on my face, yanked my hair into a messy bun, threw on something comfortable, and stomped my way to the bakery. I wouldn't let him drag me back into the darkness he thrived in.
