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Licking her mouth, she lets out a nervous laugh and pretends she didn’t hear me. “You’re making me gain weight. I’ll probably wobble my way out of this place when time comes.”
I ignore the last part on purpose. “You’ve been shot,” I say in a grave tone. “You need to regain your strength.”
“I am. Thanks to you” She floats around in the kitchen as if feeling restless. “So, what I said about leaving...”
“We’ve talked about this,” I snap. “You know where I stand.”
“But...”
Cutting her off, I clasp her face in my hands. “Even if you had to leave because you can’t handle being with me, I wouldn’t let you go.” She gasps and I stroke her cheek. “The outside world is dangerous to you, angel. That’s not where you belong. You belong with me.”
Her eyes dart and I add, “I’m not like other men. Knowing who I am is treacherous. Knowing who I am could get you killed.”
“Phantom...,” she whimpers and I let go of her face and wrap my arms around her.
“It’s alright, angel. Just don’t fight me and let me protect you.” And let me keep you.
I care about keeping her safe but it’s not only about that. Her innocence matters, it makes a difference to me and I frequently find myself obsessing over her purity. A part of me wants to keep her untouched forever, a part of me doesn’t even want to fuck her, just idolize her.
I’ve never idolized anything in my life, never been on my knees in front of anyone but I want to be on my knees in front of Skyla. Pushing into her, I hold her tighter and my eyes roll back in my head when she squirms, causing friction between our bodies.
“You feel so good,” I groan, rubbing my hardness on her but she whimpers and pants. “Baby, you’ll let me have you, won’t you?”
“Phantom...,” she whines and I flood with an immense pride and sense of fulfillment that she’s mine. She’s in my hand and in my hand alone. She’s never been in anybody else’s, like she popped out of her mother’s womb and straight into my arms.
She’s a good, clean girl through and through and I am so not worthy.
“What is it, angel?” I rasp, pushing her until her back’s against the sink and I grab her by the waist and pull her up to sit. I lick the seam of her lips and she gasps. “You don’t like me touching you?” She lets out a defenseless moan and I groan, “Come on, give me your mouth...open up, baby.”
Whimpering, she shudders when I lick her lips again but she’s not opening up. I grow frustrated and part her thighs. Her skin’s so damn warm there that it stings my palm. I want her so much I’m turning into a health hazard.
“Phantom...,” she pants, pushing me away and I frown, growling,
“You don’t want me?”
“It’s not that,” she whispers, rubbing her thighs together, “you don’t get it...” Eyes flashing she murmurs, “I’m not the angel you think I am. I have thoughts, Phantom. Bad ones, forbidden ones.” She shakes her head and inhales. “Dinner’s ready...”
I clasp her arm. “Conversation’s not over.”
“Please...,” her lower lip trembles and I let her go with a curse. Stabbing my fingers through my hair, I throw myself down on a chair and watch her with a dark gaze. She’s pushing me away and I don’t like it. I don’t like it because I can feel that she wants me.
Her eyes turn shiny whenever I look at her, her curves appearing lusher than usual when she knows I’m watching as if I get her hormones running. Turning restless, I fidget in annoyance and she hands me my food but doesn’t sit down by my side.
Instead she chooses to sit in the window frame and her legs dangle in the air. I want them braided around my neck and I can’t get a bite down. I can’t eat when my appetite’s solely revolves around her.
“You should’ve put on some clothes,” I grunt. “All you do is walk around in that shirt.” I’ve bought her other stuff she can use. Tops and dresses, denims and comfy underwear but she still insists on wearing that thing.
“I like your shirt,” she whispers.
So do I. I love it on her but I’m jealous. It’s touching her when it should be me. And I know she’s wearing nothing underneath. Caught a glimpse of her sweet flesh when she got down from the bed.
Dragging a hand over my neck, I mutter, “Baby, I want things to be smooth between us.”
She drops her fork and her jaw slacks. “They are.”
I shake my head. “You’re pulling away. You think I don’t notice that you twitch whenever I get a little too close?”
The way she rejects me makes tension soar in me. I’ve been tortured once before but this is worse. This gets to the heart, to the part of me nobody ever before has reached but that Skyla strokes just by being in the same room as me.
