Page 46 of Kings of Decay
My mouth watered at the thought of touching her soft, pink-tipped breasts and running my fingers over her nipples; I knew they'd be hard and begging for my touch.
My cock throbbed with desire, my balls growing heavy from the unfulfilled lust I felt for this girl. I would fuck her so hard and so good; she wouldn't forget me anytime soon.
My breath hitched as she turned around. I moved back from the door. I couldn't ruin this. Not before I blew my load. I leaned in against the doorframe of the bathroom, the hot steam from the shower clouding my vision as I watched her through the open door.
"Fuck," I breathed, jerking my cock and rubbing the swollen head. With one last muffled grunt, I came in my pants.
The pleasure surged through my body. I took several deep breaths, pressing myself against the edge of the doorway and wiping my spunk on my leg.
"Hello?" Willow called out. The water turned off.
I bolted as quickly and quietly as I could. I couldn't let her see me. I wouldn't be able to control myself if I did, and I promised Ainsley we'd have her together.
I closed the door with a click just as she walked out into the main area of the cabin, a towel wrapped around herself. I watched her from the window, looking suspicious and confused.
She didn't even notice the wet boot prints leading to the bathroom.
Pretty, but naive.
That was the type of girl Willow was. She didn’t have a clue about what kind of men the Winston Brothers were, but I could see it in her eyes. She wanted us. And that made it even morethrilling, knowing that she would do anything for us if we just took her by the throat and showed her a thing or two.
Soon.Soon, she'd be ours.
Chapter thirty-one
Ainsley
Willow was in my dreams every night.
I groaned, brushing my hair from my eyes and turning over to look at the ceiling. It was noon, but my bedroom was still dark, thanks to the black-out curtains.
I rolled over again, fighting to shake free from the last remnants of sleep. I was only half successful. I was still caught in a dreamlike haze as I blindly found my way to the ensuite bathroom.
The bathroom mirror revealed someone almost unrecognizable. My curly hair frizzed out everywhere, and dark circles were underneath my eyes. Had I really been surviving on only four hours of sleep a night?
I groaned, throwing on a hoodie and sweatpants before heading downstairs.
My father was sitting in the breakfast nook near the tall windows that overlooked our property. The sun was high over the lake, making the snow glitter. The light was blinding.
I grunted and closed the blinds.
My father looked up from his tablet. "Look who's alive," he said, sipping white wine with his lunch. He'd probably been up since the crack of dawn.
My father always preferred mornings over any other time of the day. But I couldn't say the same for myself.
"Yeah, I was up doing research until sunrise," I said.
I opened the fridge, immediately hating the stark contrast of light and dark. I couldn't shake the dream I had of Willow. The one where I was drowning in her. I found myself staring but not seeing anything, a million thoughts running through my head of her perfect, supple body writhing under mine.
I shook my head and grabbed some orange juice.
"How's the employee chatter at the mine?" Father asked.
I sucked in a breath. "Not good." I took a long swig directly from the bottle. "Lots of dangerous words being flung around on Facebook."
My father set down his tablet, still open to the digital version of the Wall Street Journal. "I see. Unions?"
"Trying," I said, taking another long gulp of juice.
