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“Tell me why you’re stalking me, Rowan Stone!” Her voice cracks with the evidence of her pain. It splinters like a million fucking pieces, and fuck, the sound breaks me apart too.
“Because I promised myself that after what happened to you and your mother, I wouldn’t allow anyone to ever fucking hurt you again!”
Surprise flashes across her innocent face. Her lips part with so many unspoken questions and thoughts that I can see racing behind her big brown eyes.
Then without another word, she turns away from me. She spins on her heels, and she’s about to walk away from me for fucking ever.
And the thought of owning her earlier and then never again touching her skin crumbles something inside my chest. I can’t go back to that. I can’t go back to an empty fucking life without knowing what it’s like to hear Atlas’s cries as she comes apart in my hands. I can no longer watch from the sidelines as she destroys her own life, goes on dates with other fucking guys. Not when I’ve known what she tastes like. Not when I’ve finally found my own piece of heaven. I can’t do it.
I fucking refuse.
I jerk against the restraint, and the force of my determination snaps the thin metal around my wrist. It clatters to the bed frame, and in an instant, I’m lunging at her. My body slams into hers fast and hard, and she reacts even faster.
Her palms push against my stomach at first. Her fists beat into my abdomen for a single moment before halting. Then sliding slowly and decidedly around my torso. And then she’s hugging me. And her tears are hot and silent against my chest. And I don’t know how fucking long I’ll stand here like this, holding the most maddening, addictive woman I’ve ever met.
I’ll stand here as long as she’ll let me.
I’ll hold her together while our whole world falls apart.
* * *
I refused to leave her, and now she’s offered me a shower and to stay the night, and I have no idea where to go from here. It was easy hovering over her like a shadow in the background. Living in her actual life–it feels foreign but familiar. I know her routine; I know how she feels. I’ve always been a spectator. And now... I’m actually a part of it, of her, and it makes my fingers twitch with restlessness.
The water’s raining down on the white shower curtain I considered hiding behind just a few nights ago. For years, I’ve been on the outside of her life looking in. And now I’m standing naked in her bathroom.
“How the fuck did I get here?” I whisper to myself. Though I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t happy about it.
I listen intently, and a humming sound drifts through the quiet. A man she doesn’t know just followed her home, tore through her apartment window, and finger fucked her on her bed. And she sounds fucking delighted.
Only Atlas.
A heavy sigh shoves from my lungs before I pull the curtain back and step into the little space. How does she function in this small of an apartment? The shower head beats hot water down onto my pecs, and I have to plant my hands on the wall and lean down into the stream to wash my hair.
The sound of her moans live in my mind. It’s all I can hear for a long moment. I don’t even hesitate before I’m gripping my shaft and making slow work of memorizing the way she felt squeezing against my fingers as she came all over my hand. Her hot cunt felt surreal. I glide my palm across my head and imagine how good she’ll cry for me the first time I enter her.
Fuck. I will own her. Every goddamn inch of her pussy will pulse just for my cock.
Do not touch her, I remind myself of that little broken rule but we’re way past that now. We’re in dangerous fucking territory, and I’m not turning around. I’ve seen heaven, and there’s no way I’m crawling back to hell.
My hand slams to the wall again, and I hold myself there as I stroke myself faster, using the hot water to remember how she felt beneath me. She bowed beneath me. She let me break her. And the way her hands felt pounding against my flesh, like she meant to punish me as much as I wanted to punish her? The sexy little fucking fantasy as she fought against me when we both know she wanted every inch of me and more.
“Fuckkkk,” I hiss into the steam of the shower. Cum slides across my knuckles, and I don’t stop until I’m throbbing and desperate to have her.
And then the smallest knock, the most quiet and polite little noise, breaks down the fantasy in my head.
“Rowan?” she whispers across the barricade of the door that’s separating my greedy cock from her sweet fucking pussy.
I clear my throat hard and force myself to think straight. The idea of fucking her brains out until both of us thinks it’s a good idea to live happily ever after with a piece of shit murderer like me circles my mind over and over again.
Fuck. Think, Rowan! Real thoughts are needed here!
“Yeah?” I grind out, gazing down through the wetness of my lashes to see my cock still rock hard and waving at me. Touching myself brought seconds of relief. But now, with her speaking softly on the other side of the door, I just want to bury myself in her.
I jerk the faucet handle until cold water rushes over my body. It sprays chilling pain across my arms and back. It douses me in clear thoughts. I look down again.
Still he stands thick and tall like a soldier ready for a hot and dirty battle.
Fuck me.
