Cruel Obsession (The Obsession Duet 1)

She stays quiet for the rest of the meal. Must be out of questions for the day. When we’ve both cleared our plates of food, I take them and deposit them in the sink.

“You know if I let you call Donna, you have to lie to her. You can’t tell her where you are… not like you know where you are anyway.”

She frowns. “I’m not stupid, I won’t say anything. I just want to hear her voice and make sure she isn’t worried about me.”

“Okay, let’s call her then.” At my words, she perks up, shock takes over her face. She still doesn’t believe me, probably thinks it’s a trap, but it’s not. “Well, come on.”

Dove eagerly follows me into the library, where I reopen the safe and get everything out again. I set up a secure line and call the nursing home’s number. When I hear it ringing, I hand her the phone.

I watch and listen closely as she talks to the nurse, then to Donna. As soon as she hears her adoptive mother’s voice, a genuine smile spreads across her face. Dove is beautiful on any given day, but when she smiles, she literally takes my breath away.

Enjoying the view of Dove being happy and content, I let them talk for as long as she wants. After about twenty minutes, we hear the nurse in the background telling Donna it’s time for her morning exercise. The two women say their goodbyes, and Dove hangs up the phone before handing it to me.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you.” And I mean, anything.

I let the hot water beat down on my tired skin after my afternoon workout. Steam has filled the entire bathroom by the time I wash my hair. Watching the water drain, my mind wanders to Dove. She was different today, more open to the idea of me not being the enemy. She is still guarded, but there seems to be less resentment coming from her now.

The image of her smiling, so happy when I let her call Donna, enters my mind. I love seeing her like this… lighthearted, joyful, simply happy. I want her permanently happy, to smile all day, to smile every time she sees me, to smile every time I touch her.

Groaning, I take my hardening cock in my hand and imagine her smiling, her beautiful, plump lips are wrapped around it. She sucks hard, taking me deep into her mouth. Fuck. I bet her mouth feels like heaven.

A hiss of pleasure escapes my lips. I want to be inside her so badly. I don’t care where or how. Mouth, pussy, ass… Doesn’t matter because eventually, I’ll claim all of her. For now, however, only one will do. Anything but my fucking hand.

Pumping my cock harder, I think about how warm and wet her pussy will be. How tight she’ll be squeezing my dick when I take her virginity. How slow I’ll take her, savoring every inch that I gain inside her.

I thrust into my hand, tightening my grip as picture after picture of the things I want to do to Dove play behind my eyes like a movie. My balls tighten, and the pleasure builds. Just when I’m about to blow a fat load onto the shower tiles, I get this weird feeling. The feeling of someone watching me. I still my hand with my cock heavy in it. My eyes flutter open and connect with a pair of big blues.

I don’t know who is more shocked, her, or me. She didn’t just walk in here by accident, see me and walk back out. No, she is standing in the middle of the bathroom, watching me jerk off. She walked in here, knowing I was taking a shower.

Her mouth hangs open, and her eyes are so impossibly wide, I think it must hurt to put so much strain on them. It looks like she’s about to say something, her lips moving slightly, but no words come out.

I would give anything to know what’s going on inside her pretty little head right now. There’s only a second for me to make my decision, a second before she turns and walks away.

A good man would tell her to get out, to go into the bedroom and wait, but after this morning, and all these years of being so close but yet so far away, I’m just not strong enough to. I want her, in whatever way she’ll let me have her.

Opening the glass door, steam billows out. “I see you watching me. Take your clothes off and come in here.”

Fear briefly flashes over her face, but something else emerges beneath. Curiosity? Need? Want? Even if she is afraid, this other emotion must win out because she reaches for the hem of her shirt.

Her movements are slow and jerky, almost unsure as she shoves her pants down and then pulls her shirt off. She stands there before me in plain panties and a bra, and I’m so wound up I could explode at the image. Perfection.