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My body trembles from within, and I force myself on to my elbows. Deep breaths ground me in the present, and my eyes dart around the dark, cavernous room.
I’m still in my room, everything is fine.
Slowly, the weight on my chest eases and my thoughts begin to sound less like a jumbled mess. It’s been years since I’ve had a nighttime panic attack, yet this is the third time tonight I’ve been startled out of my sleep by it.
The drapes are wide open, and pale moonlight stretches in through the windows, bathing the room in an eerie glow. It should be freezing in here, but it feels so hot I’m tempted to turn the fan on.
Get a hold of yourself, Alex.
The neon numbers on the alarm clock beside my bed reads 02:00. I’ve been trying to sleep since eleven last night. To no avail, as my mind keeps forcing me out of a restful slumber. I’ve never been a sound sleeper—not since Mum died, at least—but the quality of my sleep has steadily declined the past few days.
Knowing that Alize is right across the hall isn’t helping either.
Thinking her name conjures images of our last interaction, and my brain latches onto it like a drowning man grasping at straws. Thinking of her won’t help me, but I can’t stop myself.
Honestly, I don’twantto stop myself.
I imagine the scene without the tense conversation we had. Instead of letting her slam the door in my face, I should have forced my way into her room and chained her to the four poster bed, then fucked her until she begged for my mercy.
My cock stirs to life, tenting the sheets.
The anxiety thrumming through my veins grows hotter, darker. I’m overcome with a searing need. This is what I hate about the aftermath of panic attacks—they make it so much harder to handle other emotions.
Fuck.
I grab the shaft of my cock with a firm grip, stroking it with my big, clammy hands and wishing they were Alize’s soft, delicate ones instead. My hands glide over my length, and there’s a spark of lust kindling deep in my stomach.
But it’s not enough.
I’ve done thissomany fucking times this week that I’ve lost count. There was bound to be a breaking point. It’s just my luck that I’ve found it now, when I need the euphoria of release to find a spot of peaceful sleep.
My frustrated groan fills the room.
How the fuck is Alize not as frustrated as I am? I’m certain she’s still attracted to me—that part of what we have will only deepen with time—but how is she able to control herself when we’re this close to each other?
Since she’s moved in, Alize has seen me shirtless at least once or twice every single day. I’ve ensured it. Yet she’s still a fortress. Meanwhile, I’m struggling to keep my composure when I catch a glimpse of her torso.
I’m tempted to considerwhatcould be keeping her so satiated that my presence doesn’t affect her the way it should—does she have someone else?—but all I really want right now is a nut so I can go back to sleep. It’s going to be impossible to get, laying down in this cold room staring up at my ceiling.
If I could see her, I could finish.
I should see her.
I’m out of bed before the logical part of my brain can talk me out of it. I stuff my cock back in my sweats and pull a pair of socks out of my nightstand to dampen my footsteps. In my closet, I find the key to her room.
The last thing I do before I creep out of my room is slip my phone into my pocket.
I’m not going to touch her.
I just need a visual.
I’ll snap a few pictures to keep for whenever these moments come up again—just enough to hold me over until the situation between us is fixed. Then, I can get back to having her in my bed, to kissing the screams from her lips, to fucking her to sleep every night and waking her up with my cock every morning.
The lock on her door tumbles open with a twist of my wrist. In the stillness of the night, it’s as loud as a firecracker. She’s probably already asleep, but I don’t want to take any chances.
Revealing that I have a key to her room was something I never planned to do. It’s supposed to be a last resort, something I only ever planned to use in the event of an emergency.
If she’s awake on the other side of this door, she’s going to be livid.
