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I stand for the first time in hours, pop my back, groaning from how good it feels, and place the glass on the counter.
“Don’t forget we have a meeting today with father. He probably wants to talk about your engagement.”
“I’ll be calling it off today.”
“He won’t be happy.”
I insert the key into my bedroom door, unlocking it. I slide the key into my pocket before placing my hand on the worn golden knob. “I don’t give a fuck what he wants.” I think a part of me blames my father for what kind of man I’ve turned out to be. I don’t have a problem doing what needs to be done, but I do have an issue with him trying to control me.
His influence stopped when he stepped down and handed the title to me.
I swing the door open and step inside, noticing Mable lying in the middle of the bed. She has one leg on top of the covers with the rest pulled to her chin, and my eyes roam on that one leg. The skin looks so soft, so delicate, and so flawless. I wish I had my sketch pad with me. I’d sit in the corner and draw her like this, but I’ll do it later, conjuring this moment up easily and painting it on a canvas. I’ll add it to my growing collection.
My fingers wrap around the bedpost, and I lean down, trailing my gaze up and down her body. Her pants are on the floor in a useless pile.
Along with her shirt.
That’s when I noticed the deep blue material scrunched around her hip.
My shirt.
Her hair is wet now that I focus on her and not her skin.
She’s showered.
And she’s wearing my fucking clothes.
With a snarl, I push from the bedpost and stomp into the bathroom, noticing the towel on the floor. I bend down to pick it up, and it’s still wet.
I missed it. I missed her naked, washing her body with my soap, washing her hair with my shampoo, then using my towel to dry her naked body off.
I missed seeing the water droplets dripping down her body as she stood in my bathroom. I’ve never been so upset than I am about missing that moment.
I toss the towel in the hamper and grip the edge of the sink, taking a few deep breaths to calm myself. Pressing a palm against my hard cock, I moan, then jerk my hand away. I can’t do this. She’s scared of me enough as it is.
Taking a look at myself in the mirror, I notice how greasy my hair is from running my hands through it, the bags under my eyes, and the stubble on my chin.
The blood continues to pump through my cock, making it harder, the ache becoming greater, the need for her nearly impossible to ignore. I want nothing more than to rip the door off its hinges, pull the blankets from her body, push her legs apart, and slide into her warm, hot pussy that’s been waiting for me to own, possess, and claim.
But I can’t.
I undress, my cock slapping against my thigh, weighted and ready. I give myself a firm stroke, holding in a moan because it’s been so long since I’ve touched myself. I almost forgot how good it felt. I’ve ignored my pleasure because nothing felt good, nothing compared to the daydreams I’d lose myself in of being with Mable.
I was addicted to the way the mirage of her felt, and not even stroking myself to orgasm was good enough. No, no, I needed to be inside of her when I came again. I want to feel her come for me, the spasms massaging my cock to pull me deeper, milking the come from me.
Flipping on the shower, I step inside, letting ice-cold water drift over me to soothe the lust pulsating through my veins. I shiver, my hand lying flat against the wall as I hang my head. My skin pebbles with goosebumps, and I take a deep breath, watching as the water wraps around my cock.
Not even that works.
“Fuck,” I sneer, gripping my stubborn cock with my fist and angrily stroking myself.
This isn’t what I want.
I don’t want to waste a drop. I want it all to be trapped inside her, binding her to me, but that can’t happen yet, and I need relief. I need to be able to have a complete thought without wanting to rip her clothes off, shove her against the nearest flat surface, and fuck her so good all she’ll want to do is stay with me.
It’s a dream because Mable is strong and feisty, and she won’t give in.
No matter how many promises I throw at her, there’s the issue that my brother kidnapped her and brought her to me.
