I crave it.
I crave her.
I follow her through the library with her tiny hand in mine, wanting to fall at her feet over the way she glares at the gawkers. The people trying to be subtle about shuffling their children toward the exit. The librarian who looks like she’s seen a ghost. Thea squeezes my hand tighter, lifts her chin and keeps walking, fierce and beautiful and more than I deserve.
She needs to know the truth.
Not only about me, but her uncle and the gallery.
Have I waited too long to tell her everything?
I fell in love with Thea the night I arrived to kill Gardner. Right there in the shadows, her name was carved into my heart for all time. But I never expected this. I never expected her to want me in return. To allow me the treasure of her body. To claim me so publicly. She is mine and I am hers, and there is no room for lies. Not when our honesty is the best thing about us.
Tonight. I will tell her everything tonight and pray she’ll keep me afterward. I can’t go back to watching her from the shadows only. Her light is keeping me alive now.
Thea pulls me deeper and deeper into the library. There is only the odd person in the dark stacks at the back of the establishment and they slip away hastily when they see me, leaving us alone in the furthest row from the entrance. Vaguely, I register giant volumes of atlases lining the shelves, but my focus is on the angel. How she is luminous even in the dark, silent aisle. How she smiles at me so sweetly over her shoulder, even as she prepares to torture me more. My cock is already in a state of agony, point upward and throbbing, wedged between my belly and waistband. Weeping from the tip. And it very nearly gives up the fight when she turns to me in her pretty, flimsy dress and I see her pebbled nipples.
Her excitement.
Knowing how much my angel enjoys being in charge, how wet it makes her pussy to tease me, I take a long breath and call forth my stamina. She will have what she needs. Her perfect pleasure/pain will make me feel human in the process.
And when we arrive back at the gallery, I won’t need permission.
I won’t need permission.
Those words play in my head, over and over, like an erotic mantra.
This little girl has me wrapped around her pinkie finger and I don’t want to be anywhere else. This is home. This is the way I feel alive. When it’s for her.
I’m also a beast that needs to rut.
Roughly. Wildly.
Without shame or restraint.
Thea knows this, too. She is inexperienced with men, but when it comes to me, her intuition is bone deep—and I trust her with my soul. My body.
As she unzips my pants in the last row of the library, I give her both freely, clenching my teeth as hard as I can and holding on to the top shelf for balance. Panting through my nostrils like a winded bull, I look down at the crown of Thea’s perfect head, at the delicate, white part that runs up the center. Then lower where she fists my rampant hard on, jacking me once, twice, wringing a hoarse sound from my mouth. Jesus. Jesus. My balls screw up so tight, the books triple in front of me, my throat parched, thighs beginning to shudder violently.
“I’m going to come. Please. Please.”
“No.” She bends her knees slightly and rubs my shaft on her tits, shifting the silk of the garment over her spiked nipples, giving me peeks of those smooth globes, the puckered flesh in the center. I envision my semen painting her cleavage, her throat, her face. I imagine it dripping off her young, little tits and I have to grit my teeth and bare them so I don’t make those tempting images a reality. “You will wait.”
I won’t need permission.
I won’t need permission.
She strokes me again, harder this time, and I almost knock over the bookshelf, a roar building in my throat. “When we get back to the gallery,” I say in a rushed rasp of breath, “I am going to…”
Thea looks up at me, her excitement clear. Gray eyes at half-mast, her ribcage expanding and contracting, pulse fluttering at the base of her fragile neck. Intoxicating. She’s even more beautiful like this. When she’s given control. When she’s allowed to be herself. “You’re going to what?” she whispers, brushing her thumb over the head of my cock. “Hmm?”
Back and forth. Back and forth.
My heart slams against my eardrums, sweat running in a rivulet down my spine. “I’m going to chase ye down and shove your little legs apart. I’m going to ram it in so deep, you’ll feel me in your belly. Going tae pump inside that tight, wet, cock-teasing cunt until I’m blind and you’re screaming, squirming, begging.” I try to swallow, but can’t, my words coming out thick and uneven. “You’ll finally realize I’m a monster.”