Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“I don’t know this woman,” I tell Loki, sitting at the window with him curled up at my feet. He’s sleeping, but I still like speaking to him, especially lately, which is probably why he’s on edge more than usual. He can sense the fire in me, the burning constantly trying to get out, the scorching that won’t stop. It’s a bloody inferno, and all aimed at her.
Eventually, I can’t take it anymore. I go into the bedroom, ensuring Loki is settled in his bed first, and take out my phone. Maybe this is stalkerish too, but I’ve taken a screenshot of a specific part of the video. It’s when she’s turned sideways, gesturing to a picture she’s holding. The angle highlights the curve of her hips and thighs. There’s something about how she looks across her shoulder, her mouth slightly parted as if waiting for a kiss.
Before I have time to think about how fucked this is—a screenshot of a stranger—I’m doing it again. The lust has thundered inside me, erupted in sparks of lightning and heat, and I’m on the bed, my manhood in my hand, stroking passionately as I imagine tearing her shirt open.
I’d reveal those perfect tits and start massaging them, softly pushing them together and then sucking her nipples, one, then the other. Then, as she moaned in her cute American voice, I’d slip my hand up her skirt and find her perfect pussy, her core already soaked for me because she knows too.
She has to know. We belong together. No. Other. Man. Nobody ever touches her.
I’m gasping, my hand moving fast, my entire shaft aching and pulsing as I stroke quicker, as the tip of my cock tingles with the closeness of the release. Even as I race toward this finish, a voice deep within demands that I stop. It tells me it’s a waste to do this here and now. Anything except pushing those juicy thighs apart and driving my dick deep inside, exploding into her womb, is a waste. My seed belongs inside her, where it can be of some use.
Once I finish, I lie here for a few moments, the come hot against my hard stomach.
I look into my Amelia’s eyes and imagine what she would say if she were here if we’d done the real thing instead of this consolation prize.
“I hope you just got me pregnant.”
But how can a man like me ever know if a woman really wants him?
Maybe, I reflect, as I clean the come from my abs, it’s better to live in the fantasy.
CHAPTER THREE
Amelia
I try to shake the paranoia as I ride the subway—nah-uh, tube—toward my office. I was up early, walking through the dark streets to my bus stop. This is the downside to having cheap accommodation. The commute is a killer, but it’s not raining today, and it’s my first day at my dream job, the first step in what could become my career.
So why do I feel like I’m being followed? The feeling lingered since yesterday evening when I was convinced a handsome, smoldering older man was standing in the rain outside my window. His intense eyes aimed at me, somehow saying so much.
When Mom mentioned finding a British boy, I’m sure she didn’t mean a man with silver in his hair much older than me. Anyway, this isn’t important. If there even was a man there—it could’ve been a jetlag hallucination—I’ll never see him again. So I might as well stop wondering or hoping I’m being followed.
Oh, gosh, that’s weird, isn’t it? Hoping that a silver-haired stranger I’ve only seen once in the rain is following me?
I close my eyes and massage the sides of my head. I didn’t sleep much last night, which surprised me because I thought I’d pass out from the jet lag. One tenant played music until around eleven, but it wasn’t crazily loud. Even after that, sleep wouldn’t come.
It’s strange, but I saw the silver-haired man every time I closed my eyes, like an apparition visiting me in my dreams. He was staring at me, and then, a slow smile spread across his lips, a savage smile that told me he wanted me in all the ways a man can want a woman.
When the tube slows, I open my eyes. Right, that’s enough. No more silliness. It’s just been a lot, that’s all, traveling across the ocean. The time difference, the accents, the coldness with Janine, but that doesn’t mean there’s any reason to let my mind twist into a pretzel.
I reach the office with ten minutes to spare. I consider that a small victory, especially since I had to get up at five thirty a.m. to ensure I hit all the right public transport. Nevertheless, here I am. I did it. I navigated a foreign transit system all by myself. Maybe some people wouldn’t be proud of this, but I’m here for four weeks and plan to take every victory I can.