Stir

I walk around in a daze putting my gown back on. I drop in the bed, no energy for anything else. My last thought before I pass out is no longer how to avoid temptation. I am going to hell, but heck if I care. Nothing will ever compare to this. Right?

CHAPTER 13

I have been pacing in the backyard for over an hour, trying to cool this feeling of being empty and filled with angst, but nothing is working. Leaving her has me anxious now. Her taste is still on my tongue from licking my fingers and it is making me unhinged. That first taste was like giving a steak to a starved bear.

I have been pulling at my hair frustrated and pissed due to not being able to show the level of my obsession. I am tempering my crazy because she is not ready. Not yet and I don’t want her running from me. That would send me headfirst over the cliff and we both would be on the side of a milk carton.

I know I should be calm, take it slow, and give her time, but every second she is not in my arms, she could be turned against me. This. Us. It is not lost on me how she responds to my commands like she was born to take them. Christ, I have to figure out how to keep her. Mine.

These visions of her in a white, see through gown, hair behind her, belly swollen.. “Oh shit.'' I stumble backward and land on my ass. “Holy fuck.” My cock is dripping down my pants leaving a pool on my zipper, gnashing his teeth, telling me to go get her and make the vision real. Any doubt I had about my plan is no longer an issue.

That picture in my mind was so real I could feel it. It hit me in my chest like a ton of fucking bricks. A weighted vest wrapped around me in an attempt to calm me but the opposite is the result. It is only making my blood hotter and my need for her deeper and grave. It’s a life-ending slice against my wrist; she is the stitch needed to close the wound.

I have to get inside of her. Breed her. Make her mine forever. My bones are cracking as I try to move toward somewhere safe. Not for my sake. Not from danger, but if I am not in the house, surrounded by my family, with eyes on me, I might kick down her fucking door and take her from them. Take her from the people who don’t think I am good enough for her and barricade us both inside of my room until her stomach starts to swell and prove my claim.

“Give her your seed and last name.” The voice in my head is screaming that to me and I am seconds from doing it. The truth is we are both eighteen and don’t need permission from anyone, but I know my baby needs more time. I just don’t know how much more I can give her.

When I can finally stagger my way into the house, it is quiet. Surprisingly. I can hear muffled noises from my parents' room; as gross as it is, I still smile. I have known my entire life how lucky I was to have parents who not only love my brothers and myself, but one another.

My father looks at my mom like she is the only woman in the world. She is his queen and he worships her. I watched as he would growl and threaten our soccer coaches when he felt they were standing too close. When we were younger, it upset us, but now, I get it.

I continue through the kitchen and then walk up toward my suite. For the first time I want to go to one of them and tell them what is going on. I want their advice or maybe I want someone to talk me off the ledge, but I don’t go to either of them. I walk into my suite, drop my clothes and hit the shower. Fucking cold water slow me down before she ends up taken in more ways than one.

I have been awake for the last three hours just staring at the ceiling, my mind going over all possible scenarios and ways I can get her here, in this house, bound to me and under me. I am trying so hard not to be one of those controlling assholes that steals the sunshine and demands she basks in the light I am giving her, but fuck if I don’t feel exactly that way.

I want to wrap her in cellophane, hide her from the eyes of others and make her need me. No fuck that. I need her to depend on me. Believe in only me. Answer to me. Give me everything. See…controlling asshole.