Page 19 of Date Night

I drag my fingers over her cheek, tracing the softness there, the heat still clinging to her skin. She’s so warm, so delicate, even though I know she’s anything but.

She fights. She always fights.

But not now.

Now, she’s still. Mine to look at. Mine to touch.

I swallow hard, pushing back the instinct, the hunger, that curls in my gut. I didn’t come here for this. I didn’t come here to hurt her.

But as my eyes roam her body, I feel something dark and ugly clawing to the surface.

Where was she tonight? Why was she out so late?

A bitter thought slithers into my mind, curling tight like a noose. Was she with someone?

The idea makes something snap in my chest, something violent, something possessive.

I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t.

But the thought of her with another man, letting someone else touch what is mine.

I clench my teeth, forcing myself to breathe.

Not now. Not like this.

I press my hand flat against her stomach, feeling the slow, steady rise and fall of her breath. She’s alive. That should be enough.

I tell myself it is.

Because I didn’t come here to hurt her.

But God help me, I don’t know how much longer I can keep that promise.

Letting the intrusive thoughts win, I know I need to find someway to claim her. Someway to remind her that she belongs to me.

I lift her shirt, and she lays there braless in front of me.

Her tits are fucking perfect.

Round and heavy looking. I find myself wanting to bite them. Wanting to sink my teeth in so far that blood pools in my mouth. That would wake her up. I'm sure of it. I don't want her to wake yet.

Instead, I look over to the one dresser in the room and notice a few pieces of makeup. I grab hold of the lipstick and pull thetop off it. Kneeling down over her, I start to write on her exactly what I want her to know.

"Mine."

In big letters, across her chest, her nipples, her stomach, even up on her neck. I want her to know who she belongs to. The more I write the more giddy I feel on the inside. Giddy and turned on.

It's been a long while since I've had a woman under me, and part of me just wants to take her right here and now. Of course, that wouldn't be much fun. I want her to enjoy it the same way I'm going to enjoy it.

Finally finished with my work, I stand and look down at her. The room is in disarray from all her fighting, but she looks so peaceful laying there. How I wish I could lay next to her, be there when she wakes up, but I know what happens if she opens her eyes and sees me here. I'll have to kill her. There isn't any other option. I'm not ready to do that. Not now.

I can leave her another present, though. Maybe this time she'll find it and appreciate all the effort I went to in order to be close to her.

Grabbing a few napkins from the side table, I pace myself with her breathing once again and jerk off. It's quicker than yesterday, but I'm sure that has to do with the fact that I've got her breast on full display. I could look at her tits for ages and never get tired of them.

Once I'm finished, I drop the tissue on the top of the wastebasket near the table near her bed. Making sure once again to leave it right on top.

It's over for tonight. I'm almost sad to leave her, but I have to.

---