Page 104 of Oblivion
I had no idea what happened, or if it was her words that spurred me, but before I could even blink, my release was rushing through my veins, pulling from every corner of my body. Her body bounced on top of me, her cries of pleasure fueling the beast inside my chest.
Dark spots danced in the periphery of my vision, but I could only see her. Her tits bouncing underneath the loose T-shirt she wore. My fucking T-shirt.
“Come on, baby!” I yelled out. “Give it to me.”
“Oh, God,” she cried. “Storm!”
“That’s it.” I could feel her walls closing in, clenching around me. “That’s my good girl.”
A scream tore out of her chest, her entire body shaking as I pumped inside, chasing my own release. My seed spilled inside her, coating her walls, and from this position I could see it spilling down her thighs, glistening with the wetness that spilled from her.
She collapsed on top of me, with my dick still inside her, and my arms wrapped around her, holding her to me.
Both of us breathed as if we had just run a marathon, the endorphins coursing through me, seeping into her, and the tiny, sleepy smile that appeared on her face calmed down the demons threatening to take over me.
“I love you, Storm,” she murmured, piercing me straight through my heart. “And I hate you.”
“I know,” I murmured, kissing the top of her head. “I fucking know.”
And I needed to fix it.
26
OPHELIA
I was alwaysbad at games.
I hated playing them and I hated when somebody else tried playing them with me, but this thing with Storm, whatever it was, was my favorite game. I could play it if it meant having him at least at night.
Nights were magical, when he would come to me, holding me, caressing me, telling me how sorry he was for everything. But days… Days tore at my heart like vicious beasts, showing me that nights were nothing but illusions he was creating for me, stealing more and more of my heart.
It didn’t help that my emotions were at an all-time high. It also didn’t help that I still hadn’t told him about the pregnancy or the doctor’s appointment I was supposed to go to today. It’s been ten days since Doctor Charles visited me, and while the nausea and my overall energy seemed to get better, everything else got worse.
My mood swings were terrible—one second I was laughing with Zoe, the next I was crying because I saw a puppy on television, and then I was getting angry because I was crying.
It was insane these last five days, and it felt as if since the moment that pregnancy test showed the little plus sign, everything turned upside down.
I hadn’t talked to Cillian, and judging by the sarcastic messages on my phone, he was pissed that I hadn’t called. Lazar tried calling the other day, but I told him I was busy.
I was busy hiding in my room, while the rest of the world outside partied, waiting for the night to come, like a pathetic little girl.
And that pissed me off even more.
What was I even doing? Why was I allowing him to do this to me? I swore I would get back at him, that he would know the real meaning of pain, yet I was letting him back in without even a proper conversation.
We still had to sit down and talk about Belladonna and what Logan was doing in Winworth. Tristan had enough evidence to put Logan behind bars, but the other man who was running the show with him, Judah Blackwood, was an influential member of high society, and it was much harder putting anything on him.
I needed to talk to Storm because I knew he had people all over the place. People who could dig up dirt better than maybe even Tristan could.
I didn’t want to ask Lazar for help, not yet at least, and it was my last resort in case I really, really needed it.
I stood up from the bed, ignoring the gnawing hunger in the pit of my stomach, and went out of the room. This couldn’t wait any longer and I knew if I waited for him to come tonight, we wouldn’t be talking. We would be fucking like rabbits.
The moment I stepped outside of the room, I heard the door opening from the neighboring room, fully expecting Storm to come out. But it wasn’t him.
Nova closed the door quietly, sneaking out, wearing Storm’s cut. The Sons of Hades emblem stared at me as she stepped outside, tiptoeing around until she turned toward me. Her eyes widened, and the smugness she wore earlier was nowhere to be seen.
She wasn’t expecting to see me here. She didn’t expect to be caught, but she was.
