Page 24 of Impure Vows

I rock my hips up, the sensation overwhelming, almost too much to bear. The way he’s infiltrated my life, my mind, even mybody, it's maddening. And yet, I can’t stop. I don’t want to. The madness of it all consumes me, and in this dark, isolated room, he's the only thing that feels real.

“God, what the hell wrong with me?” I whisper to the empty room, my voice ragged and desperate. My fingers move faster, my breath coming in shallow, erratic gasps. The intensity of my need is overwhelming, almost suffocating. Each movement sends a wave of pleasure coursing through me, making me bite my lip to stifle a moan.

The image of him standing over that body, his eyes locking onto mine, fuels the fire inside me. I should be terrified—and I am—but the thrill of the danger, the way he looked at me, it’s intoxicating. I can’t help but crave it, crave him.

My back arches off the bed, a strangled cry escaping my throat. The tension coils tighter, my body trembling uncontrollably. I bite my lip harder, the taste of blood sharp and metallic, but it only adds to the frenzy, mixing pain with pleasure in a dizzying blend.

“Fuck,” I gasp, the word hanging in the air like a forbidden promise. The sensation builds relentlessly, cresting like a wave about to crash. I’m lost in it, lost in him, and there’s no turning back, no escape from the intoxicating pull he has over me.

My fingers move faster, each thrust sending electric jolts through my body. I'm soaked, and the wetness only amplifies the sensation. My hips rock harder, vision blurring with the intensity.

“Oh God,” I moan, my voice a desperate whisper in the empty room. The bed creaks beneath me, but I don’t care. Nothing matters except the fire building inside me, threatening to consume me whole.

I think of him. The fear and thrill twist together, pushing me closer to the edge. My fingers curl, hitting that perfect spot, and I cry out, unable to hold back.

“Fuck,” I gasp, the word slipping out between ragged breaths. My free hand grips the sheets, knuckles white. The tension coils tighter, my body trembling uncontrollably. The images of him, his dominance, his power, fuel my need. It’s wrong, so wrong, but I can’t stop. I don’t want to.

The rhythm of my hips grows frantic, matching the pace of my fingers. Every nerve in my body screams for release, and I know I’m close, so close. The sound of my own breathing fills the room, a mix of pants and moans that I can’t control.

My back arches off the bed, muscles taut, and I let out a strangled cry as the wave crashes over me. The pleasure is overwhelming, blinding, and for a moment, I’m lost in it, lost in him. My body shudders, riding the high, every inch of me alight with sensation.

As the wave ebbs, I collapse onto the bed, chest heaving. My fingers slip out, leaving a slick trail on my skin. The room feels too quiet now, the silence pressing in on me. The reality of what I’ve done, what I’ve felt, crashes down, and shame washes over me.

My senses are overwhelmed, each beat of my heart echoing the wave that just rocked through me. I lie there, chest heaving, the intensity of it all leaving me dazed and vulnerable.

Every nerve is still humming, still alive with the residual current of sensation, yet craving more. The room spins slightly, but I can only focus on the way my body feels, the wayhemade me feel, a deep, unending hunger gnawing at my core.

I can't believe what I just did. Disgust pools in my gut, heavy and nauseating. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the thoughts to disappear, but they linger, haunting me. I don’t know how much longer I can keep running, keep hiding.

The dress in my bag is a reminder of his reach, his control. I should throw it away, leave it behind, but I can’t. It’s a part ofhim, a part of this twisted game we’re playing, and I’m too deep in to walk away now.

I hate him. I hate that he’s done this to me, that he’s turned my life upside down and made me question everything. But more than that, I hate myself for wanting him, for needing the thrill he brings.

I fling the covers off and jump out of bed, my skin crawling at the thought of staying in the same room where I... what the fuck is wrong with me? Thinking of that murderer as I came all over my hand.

My feet hit the cold, stained carpet, and I shiver, the chill seeping into my bones. I grab my bag and shove my stuff back inside, my movements jerky and desperate. There's no way I'll get any fucking sleep now, and I can't stand to stay here another minute.

13

DANTE

My chest rises and falls as I sit in the car, eyes locked on the window to Aliyah's hotel room. The crack in the blinds taunts me. Anyone could see her as she brazenly arches her hips off the bed, hand hidden between her legs. A groan escapes my lips, heavy with frustration and satisfaction. She's so exposed, yet so unaware.

"Fuck," I mutter, gripping the leather seat tighter.

From my vantage point, I relish the view. The way she moves, the vulnerability... it's intoxicating. I can almost feel her, taste her. My mind races with images of what I’ll do once she’s mine, how I’d make her suffer and crave me in equal measure. The anticipation gnaws at me, a primal hunger that only she can satisfy.

Her hand moves faster now, and I feel a surge of triumph. She’s lost in the moment, eyes closed, biting her lip. Fuck she’s beautiful. My control over her, even from a distance, exhilarates me.

I adjust myself, palming my hard cock. The pressure is unbearable, but I can’t tear my eyes away from her. Every movement she makes fuels the fire inside me, fanning the flamesof my desire. My mind races with images of her wrapped around me, her body quivering beneath mine, submitting entirely to my will.

I can almost hear her gasps, feel her skin against mine, taste the salt of her sweat. The anticipation is a sweet torment, and the thought of claiming her, making her submit to me in every possible way, is the only thing that keeps me grounded.

A ragged breath escapes me, the sound almost foreign in the silence. I smirk, savoring the depravity of the scene unfolding before me. Who else could she be thinking of right now if not me? I own her thoughts, her fears, her desires. The very essence of her being is mine to command. Each shudder, each gasp, it all belongs to me. I revel in the knowledge that, even from a distance, I dominate every corner of her mind.

“Look at you, tesoro,” I murmur to myself, my voice low. “You can’t even touch yourself without thinking of me, can you?”

Her movements quicken, and I mirror her pace, stroking myself through my pants. The fabric strains against my grip. She’s close, I can see it in the way her body tenses, the way her back arches.

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