Page 29 of The Hellkeeper

And I will never,ever, belong to anyone but my little flower.

I arrive and sneak in like usual.

My little flower is lying in that pathetic excuse of a room, fast asleep. The world isn’t ready for what I’ll become if I have to keep watching her work her fingers to the bone and sleep in a fucking storage room.

She needs to let me in.

This is all I have…her. The obsession. The addiction. The hunger that gnaws at my insides. It’s all-consuming. It threatens to break me apart.

But not yet.

Not until I have her.

I open one of the drawers next to her bed, suppressing the violent emotions I feel at how little she owns. That won’t do. My girl deserves the world. White cotton panties catch my eye. I fist them in my hand, bringing them to my face and sniffing like a rabid dog. But it smells like nothing but detergent.

Disappointing.

I want tosmellher.Tasteher. I want what’s between her lush little thighs.

She stirs, slowly waking up. Those wide, innocent eyes blink open. Confusion clouds her face for a moment before realization hits. She shoots upright, the thin sheet sliding off her body.

“What are you doing?” Her voice is groggy.

I lift the scrap of cotton between my fingers. “These were in your drawer. So clean. So pure. That won’t last long, little flower.”

And it won’t. I’m going to fuck her so thoroughly, she’ll never find a pair of clean panties again. Everything she presses between her legs will be soaked with my seed.

She turns bright red, like a rose. “Give those back,” she hisses; but I don’t miss the flicker of curiosity in her eyes.

“Come and take them.”

She shakes her head. Like sheknowswhat’ll happen if she gets closer.

I crouch down in front of her. “You’re afraid of me,” I murmur, letting my knuckles graze her thighs. “But not enough to run.”

“I—”

“Hush.” I place a finger on her soft lips. “I want to teach you something.”

“Teach me what?”

I grin. Dark. Satisfied.

“Everything.”

She trembles with a mix of fear and something else.

Something hotter.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re so innocent,” I grunt. “You don’t even realize the power you have over me, do you? You make me lose control.”

“How do I do that? I’m not trying to,” she mutters, pouting, confused.

She doesn’t even have to try. She could wiggle a finger at me, and I’d drop to my knees.

The fabric of her nightgown clings to her skin, her nipples hard and visible through the thin material; begging to be sucked.

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