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Chased (Savage Men 3)

Page 23

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When I bought her, I never thought I’d succumb to my desires so easily.

Maybe she’s found my weak spot. Or maybe I’m really looking for salvation, and she’s the only one who can give it to me.

No. I can’t allow it.

“No,” I reply, lying through my teeth.

But I have to make a stand. Have to stop this from happening before it’s too late.

“I don’t believe you,” she says, inching closer again.

I immediately get off the couch, not giving a shit that my dick is rock hard because of her.

I won’t let her find out.

When she touches the collar of my shirt, I grasp both her hands and force them down.

“Don’t play games with me,” I say. My voice is gruff, saying the words harsher than I want to, but it needs to be said. “You don’t want to mess with me.”

“I’m not,” she says. “I want this.”

“Don’t. Fucking. Lie.”

She doesn’t know how much I hate liars.

How hard it makes me.

And how badly it makes me want to kill.

“I know you want me. I’ve felt it,” she says, smirking as though she’s found my dirtiest secret.

She doesn’t even know the half of it.

I let go of her hand and walk away.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

I don’t reply. I can’t even fucking say a word right now without feeling the need to scream.

Instead, I storm into the bathroom and shut the door, my fist ramming the wall.

Fuck!

I almost fell for it.

Almost fell for her little game.

Almost allowed myself to commit the biggest sin of all.

I stare at my hands and force myself to put it out of my mind. But as I pull off my clothes one by one, I can’t shake the image of her naked in front of me. Can’t stop myself from picturing her writhing underneath me, begging me for my cock, waiting for me to lick her senseless.

Fuck, I want it all.

Raging like a madman, I step under a cold shower and let the water cascade down my body to cool me down.

But no matter how long I stay there, I’m still hard as a rock.

Still aching to touch her … to claim her.

Still wishing I could make her suck me off without feeling the guilt.

But I won’t allow myself to sink to that level. I refuse. I’ll just have to figure out another way to ease the craving.

So I grab my dick with both hands and start rubbing, imagining she’s doing all the work. I close my eyes and picture her with an open mouth, resting between my legs, licking her lips, whispering her dirty little words.

I want to fuck her pretty little mouth, have her come all over my dick, and make her take it up the ass. I wanna do it all. And I wanna do it dirty.

I wanna do her until she screams my name and begs me for my cum.

And I’ll fucking give it to her, every inch, deep inside her, until she’s licked up every … last … drop.

I groan and come undone, cum jetting out of me against the dark shower wall.

Within seconds, it’s over, and the pressure’s released, but the guilt has only intensified.

I swore to myself I wouldn’t succumb to my needs, but this was the only way I could avoid just that. And this messy wall is proof of my inability to resist sin.

I grab the hose and rinse it off, then turn off the faucet and step out. I dry myself off and put my clothes back on, pretending like nothing ever happened.

Except, when I turn around again, there she is, in the doorway, waiting right in front of me.

Did I forget to lock the door? I must have.

Is this the first time she came in?

Did she hear me moan?

Fuck.

“I …” she mutters. “I’m sorry. For anything I’ve ever done to you to make you feel like you need to do this.”

I’m at a loss for words.

I shake my head.

Is she really considerate … of me?

I can’t believe it.

After what I just did, and what she tried to do … she’s apologizing?

Is this a trick to make me feel guilty again?

Or does she think I’m pathetic?

Maybe that’s it … because I think it’s pathetic too that I had to resort to jerking off to fulfill my needs.

Pathetic. Fucking sad, that’s what it is.

I’m supposed to do good and rid this world of evil. Not create it.

Rubbing my forehead, I close my eyes and sigh. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Then why—”

I place a finger on her lips. “Don’t ask me things that can put you in danger.”

It’s the first time I’ve admitted that she’s still in danger just by being close to me.

Still, I can’t help but gravitate toward her. I don’t want her to feel this way about me. I don’t want her to feel afraid. Don’t want her to go back home because it’ll never be good for her.



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