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Chapter 3
Ryder
Kitten was angry.
I had learned long ago how to discern her different types of anger. She was a treasured book in my collection, and I was an avid reader. My favorite type was her petty anger; it was adorable when she pouted. And then there was this one. The dark one.
She was furious, and I wasn’t sure if she would, or even could, forgive us. Forgive me. We had not only lied to her, but had betrayed her trust. Trust was difficult for her to give, I had come to realize. She had lived a tough life, constantly under this pressure to be perfect, and the fact that she was willing to love and trust a demented soul like me was beyond incredible.
But of course I had to ruin it, like I ruined everything.
Pinpricks of fear ran up and down my spine. I didn’t know what I would do with myself if she decided she wanted out of this new, precarious relationship. I supposed I could love her from afar, the way she deserved to be loved.
But could I live with myself knowing I had her love and lost it?
My emotions ranged from self-loathing to fear.
What had this girl done to me?
She turned me into a romantic sap. I used to laugh when I saw men like that, men like me. I didn’t believe a love like that could even exist - an all consuming love where your entire being and happiness depended on hers. I lived for those moments when she smiled. I could sing songs forever about her laugh, though my own music failed to accurately portray such a beautiful sound. The way her face lit up when she was animated. The furrow to her brows.
Perfect.
She was the epitome of perfection.
I stared at her closed bedroom door, unable to garner the courage to knock. What if she sent me away?
Man up.
Steeling myself, I rapped my knuckles against the door. When she didn’t immediately answer, I let myself in.
And froze.
She was standing beside her bed, surveying the clothing items she had set out. Her hands were on her hips, and her brown hair cascaded around her shoulders.
She was also wearing nothing but a black bra and red, lacy panties. Normally, I wasn’t much for mismatched lingerie, but with her?
I could’ve sworn my brain malfunctioned.
All of that silky, alabaster skin on display...
My cock began to throb painfully.
“Shit,” I managed to say at last. “Sorry.”
“Why are you sorry?” she asked, laughter in her voice. “Did you need something?”
There was so many things I needed. So many things.
Every monologue I had planned was completely forgotten. I couldn’t even remember why I had came into her room in the first place.
“I…”
She was so perfect.
So beautiful.
And she was mine.
