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Seventeen
Aidan
As I lookedat myself in the mirror over the vanity, I knew I’d made a mistake.
But regrets were a part of the life, remorse and fear and guilt too. I wore them all like badges that had been sewn into my flesh. They were points of shame, parts I disliked, but what I hated the most was that I was drawing her deeper into this filthy world of mine.
A world I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.
In my reflection, I could see her in the shower.
Soapy.
Slick.
Fuck.
For all that I knew I’d made a mistake, I’d keep on making it.
There had to be some advantages to being a bad man, surely?
As she bent over, soaping up her calves, a place I’d bitten, then her knees and thighs, sliding her palms inward where cum had leaked onto her, I reached up and rubbed a hand over my jaw.
My dick ached already, and it had only just left that tight snatch.
Hers was the only pussy I’d ever been in without a rubber, and while she was no virgin, I swore to Christ, hers was the tightest, the best. Snug and hot and fucking perfect.
Heaven.
It was probably the closest to heaven I’d ever get as well. Da insisted that if we confessed enough, we’d get through those pearly gates but I wasn’t as naive. Getting between her thighs was as much of a paradise on earth as I wanted.
A place I’d been wanting to visit ever since I’d fucking met her.
As she slipped her fingers between her legs, I watched as she cleaned her pussy. I knew I should give her privacy, but I was inherently curious about Savannah Daniels. Plus, she was pretty. What kind of penis possessor would I be if I didn’t get off on watching her touch herself?
When she shivered as she cleaned up, not just a slight quiver either, but a shudder as if she were still hypersensitive, it took every ounce of control I had not to storm into that shower stall and fuck her like that.
My bastard knee was the only reason I behaved. If I fell or slipped, I was screwed, and not in the way I intended when I was with her in the shower.
Mouth tightening, I carried on watching her, taking note of the sodden bandage I’d have to change before we went out, feeling rage fill me at the prospect of that fucker hurting her, making my muscles bunch up with remembered wrath, which was when she looked up, her smile telling me she knew I’d been staring at her.
"You’re a brat," I grunted.
She smirked at me, then puckered her lips, raised her wet, soapy hand before them, and blew me a kiss.
I rolled my eyes and folded my arms across my chest, trying not to think about how my filthy hands that had been covered in blood and another man’s flesh just hours earlier had touched her.
Darkness was contagious.
I didn’t want it to seep into her.
It would, as well.
It tainted everything. Stained it soul-deep.
She twisted around, grabbed her ass cheeks then squeezed them as she peered over her shoulder at me.
"The last thing you should try to do is draw attention to your ass," I rumbled.
