Page 73 of Alik

She could be good. I turn back to the screen to see the man I’ve spent days searching for.

She could bereallygood.

Together, we could be unstoppable, she’d said. I’m not so sure she’d need me for that. I certainly don’t feel capable of stopping her.

I turn to stare at Olive again, letting my eyes trail down her exposed flesh. There’s a piece of paper lightly clutched in her hand.

She doesn’t stir as I slip the paper from her grasp. Her breathing remains steady, even breaths whooshing in and out through her slightly parted lips.

I unfold the note and struggle to force my gaze away from her face, breathtaking in her peaceful slumber. The only thing her versions seem to have in common is their constant raised guard, but in this moment, it’s nowhere to be found.

Seven words are scrawled on the piece of paper in neat, cursive handwriting, far too clean for a maniac.

All is fair in love and war.

Lowering the note to my side, I try to hold my disdain for the woman, but my lips tilt slightly of their own accord.

A chuckle slips from my lips as I toss the note onto Olive’s bare thigh.

I shake my head and run a hand through my hair as a laugh pulls up my throat, tipping my head to the ceiling as my eyes close.

I get what she’s doing. All the making up she’s trying to do. It’s weird and unwelcome, and I’d much prefer she simply stayed locked in Olive’s mind. I’d sleep easier. Olive would sleep easier. And it would make everything going on so much simpler to deal with.

But at the same time…

With Olive’s naked body lying within my reach, drowsy with drugs she put into her own system, the knowledge of what she’s done to me poking at the back of my mind…

My dick is getting hard.

I drop my hand to my side and look down at her parted lips while blood flows into my cock. My gaze travels over her tits, down her stomach, to the small patch of hair below her hips. Saliva pools in my mouth as my heart rate quickens. I’m reminded of the night I should’ve killed her but didn’t. How much self-control I exerted then.

A groan buzzes my throat as I tear my eyes away, my lips pursing.

Once, years ago, when I was a boy, my mother told me a story of a man with an angel and demon on either of his shoulders. At the young age of seven, I found the idea absurd but still listened to the rare exchange of soft words with greedy ears. I knew the truth of the man even at the time. There was no demon nor angel. Only what the man wanted and what his weaknesses told him he couldn’t have. Until Olive, I’d never been able to relate. I had no weaknesses inside me, therefore no angel. I was always the demon.

Still am.

“Shit,” I hiss before dropping to my knees and ripping the note off her body to fling it to the floor.

I rest my palm on her thigh, my cock jumping the second her soft flesh registers. It strains painfully against my pants as I smooth my hand down to her knee, anticipation making my heart slam against my chest like it’s grown a fist.

Crooking my hand behind her knee, I lift and lay her leg to the side, spreading her pussy open for me. Her pink folds glisten like the evil twin got off before she passed herself out.

I swallow a mouthful of saliva and tilt my head as I run my thumb over her wet hole then up to a smooth fold. She’s soft and wet to the touch, and everything about it brings my body a little closer, leaning in to see, smell, touch.

It seems like it’s been too long since I’ve wanted a taste of Olive, but with her this close, this vulnerable, I want to devour her. I don’t know that a taste could ever be enough.

My gaze finds her face as I slide one of my fingers inside her warm cunt. She doesn’t even flinch. She remains in a peaceful slumber, blissfully unaware of the pleasure I could bring her if she were awake. Instead, it’s only for me.

My breath shutters as I add another finger before moving it inside her, turning my face to kiss her pale thigh. A groan vibrating my lips, I lick my way up her leg until I reach her pussy, then I pull my fingers away to sink my hands into her inner thighs and spread her wider.

I plant a kiss to her hood then flick my tongue to find her clit while lust claws at my back. I’m caught between desire and painful denial with my cock tucked away, but she tastes too good to stop. I run my tongue up her slit, moaning at the honey coating my taste buds as I slip two of my fingers back into her pussy.

When her thigh twitches, I still and look up at her face twisting. Her eyes don’t open. Her mouth doesn’t move.

What would she look like if she woke up with me between her legs?

How would she react?

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