Page 36 of The Dark Obsession

Her silky, chestnut hair is splayed over the cushion, partially covering her dainty face.

Leaning over the back rest, I lightly brush back the messy waves, careful not to disturb her sleep to reveal her peaceful expression.

All tension has escaped from her soft features, her pouty lips parted as she draws in steady, shallow breaths.

Pure and innocent.

And yet all I want to do is tarnish her, make her irrevocably mine.

Stripping her of her past, of anything that doesn’t belong solely to me.

I want her life to begin and end with me.

Not yet though.

She isn’t ready to face the extent of my obsession, the gravity of the things I’ve kept hidden from her.

With every passing day that I witness her getting more and more comfortable around me, I fight the urge to tell hereverything. To claim her fully, thoroughly.

I see the way she looks at me, the way she’s staring at my shirtless form whenever she thinks I’m not watching. But I always am.

And yeah, I do make a point of stripping in front of her, wanting to see her squirm, to see her porcelain skin blush prettily just for me.

Malory wants my body as much as I want hers, last night solidified that.

Though that’s not the only thing I want.

I don’t just lust for her body, but her mind. Until she isn’t ready to admit her darkest desires to herself, that means only one thing.

I’ll have to take fate into my own hands and I won’t stop until she’s yearning for every fucked-up part of me, craving every depraved, broken piece.

Stepping back before the temptation of her unconscious beauty gets unbearable, I burst out the door to take my frustration out on some logs.

For the past few days, I’ve been chopping wood to the point of exhaustion to curb my urges.

Having Malory here but not being able to touch her properly is driving me insane.

Those small, lingering touches that I deliberately steal from her aren’t nearly enough.

But I’ve been careful to take things slow. Getting her used to me since I’m well aware that I’m a far cry from the men she used to know.

For the last two years, she’s always been there.

Yet never close enough.

Now that I have her, the need to press her body into mine, to hold onto her for dear life is overpowering.

Once I’ve gotten a taste, nothing will be able to hold me back.Malory is my addiction, my ultimate undoing.

At the rate I’m chopping, there’ll be enough wood to last us for years to come.

Even I’m sensible enough to admit that this is getting out of hand.

As I walk back inside covered in sweat and in dire need of another shower, I find Malory seated at the kitchen island, sipping her green tea.

She always wears those tight, black leggings that make her perky ass look irresistible, perfect for me to hold onto while she’ll be bouncing on my cock.

Her oversized zip-up hoodie is open, revealing a white cami that betrays the outline of her hard nipples in the cold, morning air. She’s not wearing a bra, not that my princess needs to.Fuck me.

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