AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Now,” his deep baritone barks. “Who’s this little piece of shit who won’t leave you alone?”
2
Sergio
Seeing people cower in fear around me is nothing new. But with her, this girl with the unusual name and the eye color to match it, it’s different.
Keeping people off balance is an advantage, and my size does it for me naturally. It gives me the upper hand. But this is different. I can see she’s shaken by me, but also from this entire situation she’s been dealing with. The one that I will swiftly and resolutely put an end to.
“Maybe this was a mistake,” she begins, barely able to speak the words.
“Damn right it was because I am going to end him.”
“No, I mean coming here.”
“You didn’t come here. I brought you here. I’m in charge, now you. Now, tell me about this boy because you may have changed your mind about him but I haven’t. I never do when it comes to scumbags who harass women.”
She swallows hard and begins. “Well…he was kind of my ex-boyfriend.”
“Your what?” I snarl, unable to even say the word. The thought of another man beating her to me, even if just a bumbling boy who has no idea what he’s doing, has me ready to spill bloodtoday. Every muscle in my body tightens and I feel my neck stiffen. “He’s not your boyfriend, he's a piece of trash that needs to be disposed of.” I take a step closer to her, my big leg splitting her legs open wider. There’s a burning sensation in my chest as my stomach hardens. My heart rate spikes, my breaths coming harder and faster as I start to see spots, grinding my molars so hard there’s a sharp feeling of pain in my jaw.
“He was okay at first. Kind, generous—“
“Stop,” I command, unfolding my arms as I raise one hand inches from her face. “I don’t want to hear about this loser. All I want to know is his name and if you…were you intimate with him?”
“No! And that was the problem.”
Tension leaves me like a deflated balloon, but still, I need to hear it again. “He never touched you?”
“No.”
“Never put his hands on you like this?” With my outstretched hand, I gently cup her round, feminine jaw, my calloused digits drawing it downward as I survey her perfect, creamy skin.
Her legs open wider and I feel my body inching forward, needing to be as close to her as I can.
Anchoring my other hand to my belt, I subconsciously slip a finger underneath the waistline of the jeans, my hand trying to get to my cock to choke the rapidly rising fucker down but I’m too late.
I’m hard as a rock, harder than I’ve ever been. My dick twitches in its denim prison demanding to be freed only to immediately be buried deep inside her channel, the confirmation of her innocence still ringing in my ears.
“Never,” she confirms.
“Never touched you here?” I continue, my hand skating down the side of her feminine neck, as I drag my flesh across her collarbone and over the top of her chest, an inch before the area where her cleavage begins.
“Not once,” she gasps breathlessly.
My eyes are drawn to those pillowy lips that are ruby red like she’s been sucking on strawberries all afternoon, the contrast between the red shade and the sapphire of her eyes striking.
My light grip grows hungrier, and my hand slides up to her neck, my grip intensifying more possessively as my gaze wanders, exploring and suggesting.
Her hand comes off her lap, reaching past the gap in her shirt where she touches the now pink, warm skin of her chest. She goes to close another button while she has the chance but instead her subconscious overrules logic and her fumbling hands move with urgency as she unbuttons another.
My hand slides back down ready to follow the path of hers as I run my hand inside of her shirt. Her hand reaches out to stop me, but she’s not strong enough.
“No,” she says forcefully, but it doesn’t match the moment. It’s not a breathless no, it’s urgent and her expression changes entirely too fast.
Something smells off and forces my hand farther inside her garment, her other hand comes up, joining the first as they grab and tug at my wrist. She leans away from me trying to get my hand off her body, which only makes me more suspicious.
I press forward horizontally, not vertically, still a long way from her nipple or sliding myself the fabric of her bra, but her strap is a different story, and exactly what I’m paranoid of.
