Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78093 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
I hate her, but I’m not dumb enough to deny the fact that I’m attracted to her. For a second, I let myself wonder where she’s going, but then I shut that shit down. I don’t give a fuck what she does or where she goes.
With an iron rod between my legs, I make my way to my bedroom and then into the bathroom where I strip off my clothing before stepping into the walk-in shower.
Twisting the knob, water sprays from the shower head and the first few seconds are ice cold the beads of water pelleting against my skin like hail.
Even that doesn’t help my painfully hard cock.
Without thought, I wrap a hand around the beast and stroke him a couple times. I’m so horned up and ready to go that I know it won’t take much to get me off. Images of Ava’s naked body shaking with need beneath mine filter through my head, my soft strokes turning to strangling jerks.
Another image of her eyes pleading and her bottom lip trembling. Fuck, I want to suck on that lip, bite it, and lick it. Thinking about that mouth of hers has me conjuring up all kinds of things. Ava on her knees, her lips parted as I thrust my cock all the way into her mouth and deep in her throat until she gags around my length. I wonder if she’s ever been fucked, ever had a man use her throat as a pussy.
I keep stroking myself furiously while thinking about her. The wrongness of it all only heightening my lust. It doesn’t take me long before my balls drag together and an orgasm ripples through me. Tossing my head back, I squeeze my eyes shut as ropes of cum shoot out of my cock and onto the shower floor. Even if I don’t want to admit it, she has some type of control over me. I want to own her fear, her hate, and her anger.
Fuck.
Chapter Five
Ava
My heated cheeks cool under the soft breeze as I run out the back door and into the yard. I have no idea where I’m going, all I know is that I need to get away from him.
The grass is soft under my bare feet and the breeze feels nice against my skin as I aimlessly run away from the house, trying to make sense of what just happened. My eyes fill with tears as the anger and shock are replaced with confusion and shame.
Confusion because I don’t understand why he is doing this to me and why he keeps calling me a liar. Shame because part of me likes what he was doing, liked how he touched me and talked to me crudely. What the hell is wrong with me? There must be something wrong with me too if I liked him threatening me like that?
When I finally stop running, my lungs are burning, and I can barely suck in enough oxygen to breathe normally. I lean against a tree while catching my breath and let my gaze sweep over the property. It’s beautiful, spacious, and helps me clear my head.
Not ready to go back yet, I sit down behind the tree, leaning my back against the trunk. It might be childish to hide out back here, but right now, I don’t really care what anyone thinks of me, least of all Vance. My brain feels like it has just been through a blender. My emotions are all over the place. I have no idea what to do.
Can I even live here safely? I remember his threat to come in my room tonight and a shiver runs down my spine, but only partly from actual fear. I can’t help but imagine him coming to me in the middle of the night, sneaking into my room through the darkness.
Climbing into my bed… I squeeze my thighs together, feeling the moisture, and warmth build there thinking about him, and what he would do to me.
Yes, there is definitely something wrong with me.
For a long while I sit there, breathing in the fresh air and wondering what my life would be like if I hadn’t played Truth or Dare that night five years ago. Maybe my father would have never found out, he would have never turned into an alcoholic, barely holding onto his sanity. Maybe my parents would still be together, we would still live in our old house, and we would still be a family…and Vance would still be my friend, maybe even more.
He probably wouldn’t hate me.
What if…
Feeling that it must be safe to go back inside, I walk back across the yard, and enter through the backdoor, closing it quietly behind me. The entire house is quiet, too quiet as I tiptoe through the kitchen and into the hallway, going completely unnoticed. That is until I turn the corner to head to the staircase and my body crashes into another. Startled, I stagger backward, almost tripping over my own feet. I’m seconds away from beefing it on the polished floor when someone grabs my arm, steadying me.