Page 25 of Impure Vows

I let out a low growl, my mind completely consumed by the sight of her. “That’s right, come for me,” I whisper, as if she could hear me. “You’re fucking mine.”

Her movements are erratic now, a clear sign of her desperation. It's almost poetic, her fight against the inevitable.

As she reaches her peak, her body tenses, her mouth parts. My jaw clenches tighter. Soon, she'll be making those sounds for me. I can almost hear her begging, pleading.

Her body shudders, and she lets out a silent cry. The sight of her climax pushes me to the edge. I grip myself harder, riding the wave of my own arousal.

The thought sends a surge of adrenaline through me. I imagine her under me, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and desire. She'll learn to crave my touch, to obey my commands.

I grip the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles turning white. The image of Aliyah’s writhing body is burned into my mind, making my cock throb with painful arousal. The denial of release is almost unbearable, but the anticipation only fuels my desire.

Leaning back in my seat, I try to adjust myself, attempting to alleviate some of the pressure. But it’s no use. I need her. The need to feel her beneath me, to hear her cry out my name, consumes me. The thought sends another wave of heat coursing through my body.

I can’t get her out of my head. Every curve, watching every gasp, every shudder. The way her body responded was like a drug I can’t quit. I need more. I need to own her; to make her understand she belongs to me and only me.

Sitting in my car, the sight of her climaxing, the way she's losing herself, it drives me insane. My hand tightens around the steering wheel craving more. I want her here, now, under me, feeling every inch of my dominance.

I can't explain it, but Aliyah has me in a way no one else ever has. I can’t stop thinking about her. It’s so damn exhilarating. Watching her from afar, seeing her every move, knowing she’s terrified yet still drawn to me... it’s a rush like no other.

I lean back in the seat with a breathless groan as she collapses onto the bed, spent and vulnerable. I grin, satisfaction washing over me.

My phone buzzes, pulling me from my reverie. It's Marco.

"Boss, any updates?" His voice crackles through the speaker.

"She's still here," I say, eyes never leaving the window. "She's got no idea how close I am."

"Good. We've got men positioned around the block. She's not going anywhere."

"Perfect. Keep it tight. I want no fuckups."

"Understood."

I hang up and return my focus to Aliyah.

A small laugh escapes me as I watch her sit straight up in bed and frantically begin packing. The conflict is written all over her face. I bet she's ashamed of how beautifully she came, and the idea that it's because of me shoots straight to my cock, still hard from imagining the moans she made as her hips erratically writhed against her hand. Fuck, she's perfect.

Her movements are rushed, chaotic. She throws clothes into her bag without any semblance of order. I can almost see the thoughts racing through her mind, the fear and disgust. Disgust at herself, for wanting it, for wanting me. And that only makes me want her more.

"Boss, she's on the move again," Marco's voice crackles through my earpiece.

"I know," I reply, a smirk curling my lips. "Keep a close eye. I want her every step documented."

"Understood."

I lean back, my eyes never leaving the window. She fumbles with her shoes, her hands shaking. It's almost too easy, watching her unravel. My little bird, so desperate to fly, but she's trapped in my cage.

She slings her bag over her shoulder and pauses, her gaze flickering around the room. It's like she's trying to convince herself that she's making the right decision. But we both know she can't run from me. Not really.

As she heads for the door, I step out of the car, the cold night air biting at my skin. I keep my distance, blending into the shadows.

Aliyah stumbles out of the motel, looking disheveled and scared, her eyes wide with panic. My cock throbs at the sight ofher, the thrill of her desperation sending a rush of blood through my veins.

I stay hidden, savoring the moment, knowing she has nowhere to go. She’s mine, whether she likes it or not. The adrenaline courses through me as I follow behind her from a distance, eyes glued to the sway of her hips and the way her hair bounces every time she looks over her shoulder. Soon, I’ll have her in every way fucking imaginable.

She’s a vision of chaos, her bag slung haphazardly over her shoulder, her steps uneven. She keeps glancing back, her eyes wide with fear. She doesn’t see me, though. She never sees me.

I stay a few paces behind, close enough to see the rise and fall of her chest as she tries to catch her breath. Her desperation is palpable, increasing my desire for her.

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