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I was able to look at her all I wanted for once.
I cleaned the used medical supplies off the table and washed my hands in the bathroom.
She was still sleeping when I returned to her and scooped her up. It was cold in the living room at night, and she was half naked. I carried her to our room, and as I walked, she burrowed into my chest, seeking comfort. The movement made my heart beat strangely, like it had forgotten how for a long time, and had just remembered.
Drawing the covers back to put her on the sheets, I laid her down on her bed, then I paused over her for a long moment.
She was really here, all mine, in the dark with me. I couldn’t leave her to sleep in those clothes, could I? They were stained with blood and puke. It felt wrong to leave her in them. Her dress glowed in the dim light, and I wanted it gone. My hands were heading for the hem before I could stop myself. I was still hard as hell from our kiss, and lust fogged my thoughts.
I tugged it up to her waist, and her panties came into sight. Neon-pink lace. I stood staring at them for a full minute. I’dexpected something sportier and more practical, like her usual little shorts. Eve was full of surprises. She shifted around, arching her back, trying to get comfortable.
The dress was a tight fit, and tugging it off her head seemed impossible. There were little nail scissors in her nightstand. I remembered them from the thorough snooping I’d carried out when she’d first moved in and immediately fucked with my resolve to stay away from her. I took the tiny gold scissors in hand. This dress wasn’t decent for wearing out in public. Not by Eve, anyway. This would be the last time she wore it.
I put the blade to the hem and ripped the stretchy material upward without an inkling of remorse. It parted like butter, the white giving way to her heavenly olive skin. It tore up between her breasts and fell open.
Motherfucker.
She didn’t have a bra on. Did Asher know that his sister was running around to frat parties without a bra on? It felt like it should be illegal or something.
Her rosy-tipped tits stared up at me, perfectly ripe and rounded. Her nipples winked at me. She shifted onto her side, throwing an arm over her chest, looking for comfort in her sleep. My cock ached. A deep, dragging feeling rose from my balls. The need to come in close vicinity to this woman. I pulled her back into my arms before I could question myself and carried her to my bed. She’d slept there last night, so why not tonight? I could even fuck with her and tell her she’d crawled in there herself.
I didn’t overthink it. Eve felt like mine, and I did what I liked with my things. I couldn’t picture her with anyone else. Icouldn’t stand to even try. It felt wrong on a bone-deep level. She belonged to me.Mine.
Eve called me spoiled, rich, and arrogant…and it was true. I was used to getting what I wanted, or taking it. Eve was moving to the top of the list of things I was starting to think I needed. I was so hard, turned on beyond belief at the sight of her in my bed, that I knew I’d never be able to sleep only inches away from her without coming.
I tugged the dress out from underneath her and balled it in my fist, undoing my belt with my other hand. My breath rasped harshly in the silent room, and I stroked my painfully hard cock. Standing over her, fully dressed, my bare cock jutting angrily out of my open fly, the thick shaft clenched in my hand, I let myself look at the object of my brand-new obsession.
Her hair was strewn over the pillow. I imagined leaning over her now, catching her hair in a firm grip so her head was trapped, and forcing my cock between her plump, pink lips. She’d wake up to a mouth stuffed full of me. Or hooking those panties aside and pressing into her. I knew from experience she was tight as hell. I’d push in and fuck her slowly so she didn’t wake up or hurt, then come when I was buried deep. After, I’d pull out and leave her filled with cum.
Was she on the pill? My father might still get his scandalous shotgun wedding after all. The billionaire’s son and the cleaner’s daughter. The Prince and his Cinderella. The lonely boy and the jealous girl. The thought that Eve could get pregnant with my kid didn’t scare me nearly enough; in fact, it was hot. My Tiny, swollen and full of me, bound to me irrevocably, mine…
Just the thought had me coming quickly. My cock pulsed in my hand, and I jammed the ball of ruined white dress over my tip,barely avoiding a jet of release hitting my sleeping Eve. But I missed here and there, and the white cream splattered against her tanned skin, shining like pearls. Beautiful.
The sight of my cum on her body only drew out my orgasm infinitely. Fuck, I wanted to do bad things to this woman. Breathing heavily, I waited until the very last drop of cum had left me before wiping the mess with the garment. I didn’t use the dress to wipe Eve. I used my fingers to massage my cum into her skin instead. Would she smell like me now?
I left the dress in the bathroom trash can, covered in blood and cum, then washed my hands and returned to my sleeping temptress. I slid into bed beside her, and almost immediately, she turned into my warmth. Her body fitted against mine like we’d been designed to lock together. Like Chinese woodworking, intricate parts becoming whole by perfectly slotting together and making a joint that was stronger than any other, Eve filled my arms like I’d been designed to hold her.
I stroked her hair back and enjoyed the satin texture of her long curls. After a lifetime of the best sheets money could buy, I couldn’t deny that nothing felt as soft, or as exclusive, than Eve Martino’s skin against mine.
Only I could hurt this woman. She was mine to have. Mine to keep. Mine to destroy. I didn’t care if that desire made me twisted beyond saving or too fucked up to live. It didn’t matter. She was mine, and I was done holding back from making her realize it.Mine.
Tomorrow, I’d remind her of that.
Eve
I slumpedin the seat at Cool Beans, wincing as the coffee machine screamed in the distance. I had a cap pulled low and sunglasses on. Despite me donning the disguise, my first-ever hangover had still found me. At least my eyes weren’t being pierced with light anymore.
I’d thought a walk in the cool air might help my hangover, but it wasn’t doing anything. If I’d been looking for rites of passage, having a hangover that made you think you might actually die was pretty standard.
I hated it so much. I was never drinking like that again. Last night was a blur. I’d woken up this morning with a crippling headache, spread across Beckett’s bed like I owned it. The worst part was that he’d still been in it himself, his arm looped over my middle, morning wood poking my ass. Had I gotten in there by myself? What had happened last night? I’d crept out of the bed painstakingly slowly to avoid waking Beckett and hearing about how much I’d embarrassed myself the night before. I’d save that little treat for later when I went home.
I remembered being in the kitchen, and Winter and Selena arriving. I vaguely remembered someone’s hands on my hips and a guy herding me to the bathroom when I got sick.
I inspected my palm resting on the table and regarded the bandages stuck carefully over my skin. I didn’t remember cutting myself or patching it up. Everything that happened after I’d thrown up was a complete blank.
The coffee shop door banged shut, making me jump. I shuddered at the loud noise, wishing I could take my head off my neck for a couple of hours until it stopped pounding so relentlessly.
“Hey! What happened to you last night?”
