Page 232 of Overcast

She’s ready—orshe thinks she is. I’ve been waiting to sink my dick into Stormi for over forty-eight hours, having to watch her slip into dresses and my T-shirts when she’s ready for bed. Every time I touch her, she scolds me to rest and get some sleep, but my mind has been turbo-running down the track wanting to get us both to the finish line.

I’ve been impatiently biding by her little “rules”, the bathroom the only place I’m allowed to go by myself. The woman acts like a single gunshot wound is going to open up to where I bleed out everywhere in front of her.

I’ve gone through worse, almost had my head taken off when I was trying to take down a small group of al-Qaeda years ago. But Stormi believes that one wrong move and I’m going to collapse and never wake up.

No matter how many times she reprimands me to be quiet and hang loose, I can’t chill out when she’s near me. Her catering to me was cute and sexy at first, but I’m starting to lose some of my pride, and the thoughts of that gun resting underneath her chin has been fucking with me.

It flashes through my brain in waves, sometimes unexpectedly. She could be rambling off about something, and then it’s there—the silver barrel of the gun and her finger on the trigger. What pisses me off, even more, is that I have Wade to thank for saving her from herself.

Mind you, we may be even since I took out his ex-wife. However, he couldn’t stand the bitch, and Stormi is my entire world now. And being indebted to Wade Lockwood for the rest of my life and him knowing what he did for me is something I’ll never be able to wipe clean from my brain.

Another reason I’m pissed off.

However, I don’t have time to ponder too much more on it because I have another problem that I’ve created for myself if you want to call it that.

I’ve created a monster. A prettier, smaller version of myself that likes to come out to play when I’m being needy as fuck. The closest way we’ve been to intimate are gentle pecks to my cheek when she brings me the pain pills Lucien left for me. God forbid they’re on my lips, I might die of a heart attack or some shit.

At this point, I just may.

The build-up of how much I crave to fuck this woman may just send my heart rate skyrocketing. Gone is also the woman who unknowingly knows how gorgeous she is or that her body could make me do anything her little heart desired.

I’m mush in her palms, seeping through her fingers and begging to land somewhere on her body. Because Stormi is a walking, talking tease now, silently demanding that I confess everything I want to do for her.

It’s not a problem.

In fact, I can’t help but announce everything she makes me feel. My mouth won’t shut the fuck up, my body won’t stop until she’s under me or on top like she is now.

Her bodyweight only fuels my inkling to lose everything. She’s aware of how much she means to me, and she uses it.

She should because I did.

And I want her to be aware that my intentions are her and only her. Even if my worst fear comes to light, and she decides to leave me in the future.

Hell, my bunker is still in the yard, I’ll never let her dip out on me.

The argument of it violating human rights doesn’t even set in with me because when I marry this woman, it will be ‘till death do us part.

Stormi gazes down at me, waiting patiently for me to tell her what to do next. Her lighter blue hair falls down her shoulders and chest, still not a match for those eyes that entrance me into an incoherent state.

“Bra is still on,” I voice before she reaches behind her to remove it. The moment her perfectly-sized tits bounce free, my next order is an obvious one. “Jump on my dick and ride it.”

For a second.

I’m beyond the action, prepared to jackhammer into her silky body, and teach her a short little lesson of “listen to my ass when I tell you to put the fucking weapon down”.

After having her hold one for the first time weeks ago, I never thought I’d have to literally demand that she take her newbie ass down a few pegs because it wasn’t a squirt gun.

She would die, I would too, and God help everyone else if I lost her.

My next inhale is taken away when she impales herself completely around my, now, throbbing length.

It pulsates, psyched up, and about to blow it’s load because she feels like hell and peace.

My sanctuary where my heart lies.

The most powerful entity that controls me.

The sun and the moon may affect people’s moods and the way they feel, but Stormi is my access point. The only human who could fully break and put me back together. She’s my hurricane when she’s fucking me with her tight little body and my calm when she’s not.

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