Page 130 of Kiss the Villain

Ten times since that first night.

It’s been over two weeks now.

My hopes for this entire illogical and dangerous infatuation to go away have significantly diminished.

Because I keep showing up at his place. I tried keeping a distance, but then I’ll start obsessing about him bringing home other people—namely fucking Jessica—and I’ll go over there in the middle of the night, armed with a new Taser and knife.

Kayden keeps confiscating them, and I keep getting new ones.

Truth is, he’s never given me a reason to believe he’s with Jessica or anyone else but me. That still hasn’t put my mind at ease, though.

My obsessive mind that I barely recognize anymore is spiraling.

“Never get obsessed again, son. Don’t get caught.”

Those words that have been my mantra for six years are dissolving with every touch, every encounter, and every mind-blowing orgasm.

I know I should take a step back, because, holy fuck, this is new.

I didn’t know I could be this hyperfixated on a person, so caught in a lethal halo of hateful limerence until it becomes a noose that’s getting tighter around my throat with each passing day.

Because I know I shouldn’t have him, and, in retrospect, I won’t be able to keep him.

This physical thing, as gratifying as it feels, is only surface level. I mean, not really, because this type of sexual connection feels like it transcends my body sometimes.

But it’s still a phase, and all phases come to an end.

And thenwhat?

That’s all I keep thinking about. Theafter.

Not so much the now, but the after.

And I don’t like that, because it’s making this feel deeper than it should.

I’ve had sex before, plenty of it, but it’s never felt like this. Intense and mind-stimulating and capable of putting me in a loop I can’t leave.

The type of sex during and after which I just exist in that peaceful quiet of that white room.

It’s addictive but also dangerous.

Because, despite his warnings and authoritative orders, I can’t stop the impulsive thoughts.

Seeing girls and some professors flirting with him on campus is driving me insane. The fact that I can’t go there and pull him toward me by the throat and announce ownership is making me even more irritable.

I’m the one who refuses to come out, but even if I did, this is still a forbidden relationship. A professor isn’t supposed to fuck his student, and if this is found out, he could be fired, so we can only be a secret. I know that, I do, and yet I hateanyone’s claws on him. Not that he indulges, but he still needs to stop being so fucking polite about it.

Three days ago, I saw him talking to Yulian on campus and smiling casually as that slimy fucker put his hands on him.

I haven’t answered his texts or gone to his place since.

No matter how much he’s threatened to punish me or put me over his knees to teach me some discipline.

And now, I’m going through withdrawals. The whole putting-some-distance-between-us thing backfired, and I’ve been a moody prick.

Am I that addicted to the asshole? It’s been only three days. It’s not that serious.

But the thing is, I felt the same when I went home the other day, and I kind of ditched Grandpa and came back within two days.

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