I love you! I can’t stop. You are under my skin, and there’s no escaping you.
Seems like she has a lovesick fool wrapped around her finger. Not hard to imagine that, given her looks. It would be an utter shockif it’s only one heart she carries as a trophy under her belt.
Eli
Where are you?
Did she run away from him? Did he hurt her?
My jaw clenches at the thought, but I keep reading, searching for a reason to track this guy and introduce him to the darkness of six feet underground.
Eli
Nothing you do would bring them back, but you have me. Forget the ultimatum I gave you. I can never move on. You don’t love me the way I do, but I’ll take whatever you’d give me. Just come back.
Interesting.
What happened to you, Succubus? Who did you lose to make you like this? Or were you a demon even before that?
I’m sure Link will be able to uncover the information about who she lost in her life without too much digging.
Eli
I’m one call away. Tell me where you are, and I’ll come for you.
His desperation seeps through each and every word.
Scrolling all the way down, the last message is from six months ago.
Eli
I love you, despite your destructive and vengeance-ridden tendencies. Come back to me! Choose me!
Despite!
What a fuckin’ moron!
I’ve never been in love, nor do I want that worst kind of weakness to ever touch me with a ten-foot pole, but sure as hell it shouldn’t come with conditions and exceptions. What it should come with is warning labels, because all it does is make you vulnerable, dependent, and it breaks you when you’re left behind. I’m familiar with that pain. I was abandoned by the one person whose love was supposed to be unconditional. So why bother with a twisted emotion that only ends up destroying you?
Yet, this fuckwit with his “despite” can’t sell anyone his version of love.
And there it is again—the urge to delete each and every fuckin’ message he ever sent her. This type of possessiveness is unfamiliar. For me, a woman is a piece of ass I want to use, nothing more. She shouldn’t be any different. Yet she is, for a number of reasons, some of which I can’t fully comprehend.
In the club, when she was fleeing, I kept wondering which one of us held a more wolfish grin.
Summer seems so much like me, and that’s one of the reasons I want her so badly.
I’m ready to start erasing anything on her phone that I don’t like when she shifts, and my attention snaps back to her. The way she turned made her whole blanket fall to the side, and everything beyond her drops out of focus, fading to her image.
Abandoning the phone on her nightstand, I lean over, letting my eyes devour every inch of those perfect curves that scream for my attention.
She shifts again, lying on her back, leaving her round, perky tits on full display. Not only that, but her nipples are beckoning through the top she’s wearing. I can fuckin’ see her nipples, and I’m supposed to not bite on them? Count my dick thoroughly confused as it pushes against the zipper of my jeans, begging to be released, wondering why the hell I haven’t fucked her yet.
I can see her nipples!
That mantra loops in my head a dozen times before I realize I’m biting on a nipple through the fabric of her top. One hand is squeezing her breast while the other supports me on top, and I have no idea how she hasn’t opened her eyes. She’s most certainlynota light sleeper. If she wakes up now, the housekeeping excuse won’t work anymore.
What the fuck could my excuse be, anyway?
