Page 100 of Obsession
The cat hisses as I slide a hand beneath its furry belly. I put it down outside in the hallway, then shut the door. Savannah whimpers, and my head snaps in her direction. I watch her sleep, listening to her deep breathing.
When I finally cross the room, my big frame snuffs out the strip of moonlight that falls over her sleeping form. The urge to touch her makes me heady. My hands clench at my sides. I do this every night—watch her sleep for hours.
She looks at peace.
It would be a shame to steal her from her sweet dreams and toss her into my nightmare, but she chose to play with the devil. And I need a damn taste.
I slide the quilt away and gently trace a path from her chin to her chest, my eyes feasting on every inch of her. When I reach the hem, just above her belly button, I pause. She’s such a vision, cloaked in my shadow that falls over her. I want to see all of her.
I hook a finger in the thin strap and inch it down her shoulder. My heart is pounding. I’ve never had such a visceral response to a woman.
The white fabric drags over the swell of her pale breasts—as ghostly pale as the moonlight behind me. Her nipples pebble when her full tits spill free.
“So fucking perfect,” I whisper into the silence.
My cock aches, and I swallow thickly, tracing a finger over her left nipple. Her back arches into my touch, and I hold my breath, at the mercy of her spellbinding magic. I tweak her nipple, then do the same to the other. I’m gentle, not wishing to wake her.
No, if she stirs awake from the safety of her dreams, I might not be able to fight the urge to hurt her. I’m at war with myself, battling against my own nature, every sharp, jagged angle. If I’m not careful, I’ll do something I truly regret. And for once, I want to prove the voices wrong. I want to drown her in pleasure, not lose myself in her suffering.
After removing her sleep shorts, I settle between her legs and bury my nose in her pussy. I inhale her sweet scent deep into my lungs. Fuck, I’ve missed this and how she makes me yearn for her like a desperate man on his knees. I’m finally fucking home, with her small hips in my hands and her slick pussy in my face. Go ahead and shoot my veins full of poison. I’ll gladly die here with her intoxicating scent smeared over my chin and lips.
“Baby,” I breathe, gripping her tighter and pulling her closer. Cock throbbing, I bury my tongue inside her tight cunt. Fuck, she’s so sweet. I crave to be as fucking deep inside her as I can—to fuck every inch of her rippling walls with my tongue. I dip it in and out, thrusting my aching cock into the mattress, desperate for friction.
Soon, my lungs burn, but I don’t let up, swirling my tongue inside her, feeling her tight canal clamp down. I’d rather die than not have her explode on my mouth.
I’m full-on humping the mattress while feasting on the sweetest cunt in the universe—my own heaven. I don’t need anything else. Just this pussy, this woman, this damn heart.
I want to be inside her so fucking badly, to feel her surround me and own every drop of cum from my balls. I want to fuck her until she can’t walk.
Groaning, I drag my tongue through her soaked slit and suck on her swollen clit. She bucks, crying out in her sleep, and it makes me chuckle how she can sleep through this. I’m not gentle anymore. I couldn’t be even if I wanted to. Not when her cunt gushes all over my face, marking me with her elixir. I’d happily die to eat her every night.
I release her, and my cock throbs painfully. I quickly unzip my pants and shove them down. My veiny length bobs free, rock-hard, and leaking precum. Braced on my hand, I fist myself and rub the crown over her clit before sliding between her pussy lips.
“You like that, baby?” I trap my bottom lip between my teeth. Precum is oozing from my dick, and I rub that sweet clit over and over again. “Your pussy likes me, Savannah. Look at those pretty lips trying to swallow my dick. You’re so wet!”
When I glance up, her eyes ensnare mine. All at once, the shadows inside me rush back in, and with them, icy tendrils of panic.
“Robbie,” she moans, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. I clamp my big hand over her mouth to shut her up. If she speaks, if I hear disappointment in her voice or, worse, fear, I might lose the slippery hold of my sanity.
“Fuck,” I groan when my dick slides through her slit. The urge to sink inside her eats me alive, and I grab hold of her throat with my other hand to silence the whispers at the fringes of my consciousness. I fuck her soaked slit, with one hand over her mouth and the other squeezing the air from her lungs.
I refuse to lose myself in her. Self-control is everything. If I sink inside her and finally let go of the reins that keep the ravenous beast contained, I might kill her.
Savannah’s muffled moans vibrate against my palm, her eyes tearing up. Every muscle in my body trembles beneath the pressure of restraining the evil inside me—the same evil that condemned me to death yet now wants to unleash on her swollen pussy. To fuck her until she begs for death’s sweet mercy, and maybe, if the beast inside me isn’t satisfied, I might grant her it.
No.
I grit my teeth as my balls draw up tight. Two more thrusts, and then she falls apart beneath me. I watch, rapt, as her tear-filled eyes lock onto mine.
Her nostrils flare, and that look in her eyes, that searing lust, thathopebreaks me.
My hand falls away from her lips, and I slam my mouth to hers. I kiss her hard while thrusting madly, chasing the fucking rainbow at the horizon. I feast on her strangled moans, high on her taste. My fingers twitch on her bruised throat. Even now, I want to choke the life out of her.
When I take her bottom lip between my teeth, her small hand snakes between our bodies, and she wraps her fingers around my length and pumps. A breath gets lodged in my throat, andher lip slips from between my teeth. Pleasure tingles at the base of my spine. She holds me captive with her eyes as I fuck her hand. I tip her chin up with my thumb, then nip at her lips with my teeth, whispering, “Tell me to stop. Please, tell me to stop. I’m dangerous, Savannah.”
She pumps my veiny shaft in time with my desperate, shuddering thrusts and bares her neck in an invitation to tighten my grip. “Don’t stop.”
“Fuck…” My hips stutter. I choke her again, squeezing her pale throat. The swirls on my tattoed hand look grotesque against the stark white of her skin in the moonlight.
