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Fuck.
She continues to look at me, those big green eyes darting to mine as she registers my words.
I panic, then add, “I was worried about all of you.”
She nods, biting her lip suddenly, and I didn’t know up to this point that watching her teeth indent her skin would be my new favorite thing.
Fynn’s right, I do need to get laid.
I can’t do this…
“Dante, that’s…awfully sweet of you.”
Sweet of me? Oh, fuck - friend zone 101.
I sound like a fucking sap.
I clear my throat. “I’m just gonna…” I motion toward nowhere. “Uh, wash up.”
I can’t get out of there fast enough. Like a fucking coward I run, hiding before I can make a bigger fool of myself.
I need to shower, wash away the day, and get the stench of blood off me.
When I make it upstairs to my room, I strip quickly, turning the taps on in the bathroom as the steam billows from the shower stall.
I try not to think about Mia and what a garbled mess I just made of that. I close my eyes in frustration.Fuck! She must think I’m insane.
I scrub my hair with shampoo, frustrated as fuck, as I try to wash away the touch of her fingers on my skin. As much as I try, I can’t.
I feel it in every cell in my body, the fire.
I reach a hand down to my cock at half-mast and tug a few times. I wasn’t planning on jacking off up here, and a part of me is disgusted that I am after all the carnage still left to deal with. But I need the release. I need to get this out of my system before returning downstairs.
I imagine Mia in here with me, under the hot spray. My lips on her neck as I graze her skin lightly, her petite, little body wrapped around me as one of her dainty hands fists my cock. I groan out loud as I imagine dipping my head to squeeze and suck on one of her puckered nipples as she gasps in surprise. As she pulls me off, it gets harder, precum already forming at the tip, as she dips to her knees and starts to work me over with that mouth, her tongue laving my slit, my head, my balls. Then she takes me into her mouth and starts to take me in and out, her tongue swirling over me each and every time I pull out.
I brace the wall as I work myself into a frenzy, my balls tightening. It never takes long until I’m coming hard. All I have to do is picture her, naked with me.
In the shower. In my bed. On the fucking kitchen bench, I’m not fussy.
But when I think of that tight, sweet, little pussy and how much I need to eat her like I’m starving, I squirt all over the tiles and come violently. With her name silently on my lips, I’m emptied and panting, my forehead touching the wall as I calm myself.
I need her.
I can’t have her.
I’m fucked.
There is absolutely no denying it.
* * *
It’s late when the house finally settles down, and Angelo can confirm the body count. We can’t exactly leave dead bodies all over the place until morning. Soldiers will spend the entire night disposing of them. This is the part I dislike the most.
It’s three a.m. when I venture down to Angelo’s study where he keeps the hard liquor.
I can’t fucking sleep. I’m like this a lot. Too much on my mind and not enough hours in the day to get shit done.
I wonder what Mia is doing, if she’s asleep.
