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He hesitates, shifting nervously. “Uh, that wasn’t really
what I meant.”
I let out a wry chuckle. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it. It’ll come off easy enough. Unless you want to get on your knees and lick it up yourself?”
17
Jack
My arse is still throbbing when I wake up, but in a really good way. Wearing a butt plug for hours and then being fucked hard and rough several times definitely takes its toll, but it was worth it. I’m pretty sure I have an addiction to Alastor. Or, at the very least, his dick. The way he feels pounding inside me, his hot cum filling me up; fuck, I can’t get enough of it.
Even just thinking about it now has me turned on beyond belief. I don’t care how much my arse is throbbing, I want more.
“Jesus, are you humping the bed, Macey?” Alastor asks, laughter in his voice.
“Shut up,” I grumble into the pillow. “I’m horny.” And that’s all it takes.
THE NEXT TIME I wake up, still feeling boneless and sated from earlier, I can hear the water running from the bath- room down the hall and guess Alastor must be in the shower.
I decide to join him, but when I get out of bed my legs don’t seem to want to work, and I end up on the floor. “Urgh. Thank god he’s not here to see this,” I mutter, making a valiant attempt to push myself back up.
As I struggle, my eyes catch sight of something under the bed and my curiosity infuses me with a new burst of energy. I retrieve the item and pull myself up from the floor, sinking down on the edge of the bed.
I recognised the book instantly. It’s one Xavier and I got made on Etsy for the wedding. People were supposed to write well wishes in there for the happy couple. What I don’t understand is why it would be sitting under Alastor’s bed.
I hear Alastor re-enter the bedroom and for a moment I’m distracted by how sexy he looks wearing nothing but a bath towel slung around his hips, droplets of water sluicing down his muscular body. But then I manage to shake myself out of my lust-filled stupor so I can ask the pertinent question. What are you doing with this?” I ask, holding up the book.
Alastor’s eyes widen, and he takes a step forward as though to make a grab for the book, but then seems to realise the futility of the gesture with him standing at least five metres away.
“It’s nothing,” he tries to assure me.
I quirk an eyebrow at him. Doesn’t seem like nothing if the uncharacteristically nervous expression on his face is anything to go by. Curious, I flip the book open and read some of the messages. There are some nice ones about Xav, telling him what a nice guy he is, and to hang in there...that sort of thing. But as I flip through the pages, I see my name pop up over and over again. Drunken ramblings from people I thought were my friends, and even some of my extended family members, going on about what an arsehole I am, how small my dick is, that I have shit for brains...
It’s not as though I didn’t know people were gossiping about me and insulting me behind my back after I bolted from the wedding, but seeing it all written down like this, in a book Alastor has kept as some kind of memento is like a punch to the gut.
“Why do you have this?” I ask, not sure I really want to know the answer.
He shrugs. “Trent gave it to me.”
I flinch, feeling like I’ve just been slapped. “What?”
He sighs. “In fairness, I don’t think he’d read it all the
way through. He thought Xav might want to read some of the nice things people wrote.”
Yeah, that sounds more like Trent. My jaw tightens and I fix Alastor with narrowed eyes. “So, what—you just took it and kept it so you could have a good laugh over all the shit people wrote about me?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
Another slap. I toss the book onto the bed and root around on the floor for my jeans and t-shirt, hastily tugging them on. Then I make a quick break for the door .
“Macey, wait—”
I spin around to glare at Alastor. “Why do you hate me?” I demand, unable to hold the question in any longer. “I at least have a reason for how I feel about you,” I point out.
He winces before collecting himself. “I apologised for that. You accepted it.”
I scoff. “Yeah, twenty years later.”
