Page 47 of All Your Hate

I don’t ever want her to think I’m the same as the old fucker that raped her before.

Waking up next to Wynter makes my soul feel lighter. Usually, my head crams with dark thoughts and memories to weigh me down for the rest of the day or until I wash them away with another substance. I’ve not wanted to touch anything since she got here. It helps that she’s kept me so busy.

As I slip out of bed she reaches out to where I was, spreading out on her front with one leg lifting up. I watch closely as she shows off her pretty pink pussy to me.

Just one taste.

That’s all I need.

One lick and I’ll stop.

I bend down so my face is just an inch from her pussy. She smells divine. My mouth waters as I see our come still shining on her curls.

Our time together is still vivid in my mind. She loves to resist me at first, but I’m quickly learning all the ways to make her break apart on me.

One taste.

I reach out my tongue and my cock throbs.

Fuck. I can’t.

I won’t be able to stop.

This need to have her on my cock, my mouth, my fingers, just fucking everywhere, is unbearable. I want her to use me as her own personal fucktoy and coat me in her come. To mark me as hers.

To put it simply, I’m obsessed with her. Maybe I am an addict. I’ve only ever joked about it before, but it seems that my new substance of choice is pussy.

There are worse things to be addicted to, I suppose. This one won’t even kill me. Or will it? Death by Wynter’s hand would be a divine way to go.

Pulling the blankets back over Wynter’s body, I press a kiss to her cheek and leave her alone.

Taking care not to wake her, I grab some fresh clothes and head to one of the guest rooms to have a shower.

I’m not sure when I decided to start being good. I’ve never thought about someone’s feelings like this before. Never put someone else first. Not since I was a kid.

Once I’m ready for the day I head to the kitchen to grab a coffee to take to my office.

Like I always do, I skirt around the rug in the middle of the room to get to my desk.

I must be some sort of masochist to still use this room or any of the house for that matter. It's been years of just me living with ghosts and dead memories. I’m used to it now.

Anytime I look at that spot on the floor I see their bodies. Hear my mom’s cries as the men abused her and see my sister's vacant eyes staring back at me.

Guilt weighs thick in the air like they’re judging me for what I’m doing to Wynter, but in reality the only person on that jury is me.

What I’m about to do next is either going to set my happy ending in stone or it’ll be the making of the headstone for my own grave after it all implodes on me.

I open up the computer program I used to hack my way into Tommaso’s security team’s system and repeat the process I’ve done every day this week. Hoping that this time I’ll find something new.

I’ve never been the best hacker, that’s usually Dean’s area of expertise. He does the technical shit while I add the personal touch to get what I need. This is simple enough work though. Just like every other time I’ve looked at it, everything's as he said. The company is a standard security team, completely legit and above board.

It explains how Tommaso's place was so easy to infiltrate.

There’s got to be more to it though. The man didn’t put a hit out on himself.

If Jax or Wynter could give me some goddamn answers then this would be so much easier.

Hopefully, I’ll get some today. Kai wants to meet. He texted me some cryptic message, basically telling me not to tell him anything via text and to meet him at the coordinates he sent.

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