Page 25 of Obsession
Miller, a lean guy with a side parting, gray eyes, and a small bump on his nose from a fight, is young and cares little for the rules. That’s why I like him. He’s worked at this prison for just shy of two years.
“Is that it?” He frowns.
My broad shoulders shrug before I rise to my full height. “What did you expect?”
His eyes widen. I’m a big guy and could easily snap his neck if I wanted to. He’d be dead before he could reach for the gun at his side, but I don’t tell him that.
I have no interest in hurting him.
“What the fuck do they feed you in here?” he grumbles, turning to leave.
“I have nothing but time, Officer. I watch TV, fuck my hand, sleep, and exercise.”
“I didn’t need that visual,” he tosses over his shoulder, then pulls the door shut.
The keys rattle again, and I plop down on the threadbare mattress. My attention lands on the newspaper beside me. I pick it up, flipping page after page, and pause when Savannah’s blinding smile greets me.
Her boss has given her a weekly column about me—one I find amusing as fuck. She’s witty despite the serious subject, but also observant. I never thought a woman would notice so many shades of gray.
She’s careful with her wording, as if she’s guarding my privacy, and I wonder why that is. I wonder a lot of things.
Maybe because I have nothing but time to think.
Savannah Campbell has been on my mind a lot lately.
The way she traps her plump bottom lip between her teeth to stop herself from smiling. When I close my eyes, I see her sitting across from me, the pulse skittering in her neck. Just the thought of her alluring scent—apples and vanilla—stirs my dick.
She’s too young for me, but maybe her innocence is what makes her so damn irresistible. Then again, that’s a lie, isn’t it?
It’s what she allows the world to see, but it’s a shimmering mirage. The real Savannah, the girl hiding behind those big, chocolate eyes, is anything but fragile.
Maybe she learned early on to fake weakness, like certain animals who play dead to survive an attack. Though seemingly helpless, Savannah has sharp teeth.
And I see through her.
I always did, even before she put her cute ass in that chair and trembled like a leaf in the wind.
Fuck…
Staring at her smiling face, I squeeze my hardening dick through my pants. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve jerked off to thoughts of her, remembering the way her breath hitched when I grabbed her wrist that day. Her thundering pulse beneath my thumb.
Shifting on the cot, I pull down my pants and wrap my fingers around my throbbing cock, stroking once, twice. Pleasure bursts behind my eyelids, and I suck in a breath.
That smile of hers is lethal, whispering,“Come closer if you dare.”
She shouldn’t lure me out from the shadows like that with her twinkling eyes. Not if she knows what’s good for her.
But maybe it’s already too late. I won’t rest until I’ve sunk my teeth deep into the sensitive area where her neck meets her shoulder and stuffed her every hole full of cum. I want it dripping from her, want to swipe it up with my fingers and mark her face, spreading my semen over her kiss-swollen lips. I want her dirtied up and used, fucked to within an inch of her life.
Stroking my dick in long, languid pulls, I imagine her on her knees before me, staring up at me through teary eyes, her mouth smeared with lipstick. I bet she sounds so damn sweet when she gags.
Teeth gritted, I jerk myself faster, groaning deep in my chest.
If only I could take my time with her tight little body, hurting her and bringing her pleasure until she screams my name, wanting more, wanting less.
I’ve done terrible things, but the things I want to do to her are so much worse.
For once, I want a heart.
