Page 74 of Brutal Revenge

Then…

“Matteo…”

My chest tightens as pre-cum leaks into my boxer shorts.

I should put distance between us before I make a mistake I can’t undo.

Instead, I inch closer to her bedside.

Hearing her say my name like that—soft and unguarded—unravels me.

I whisper into the dark, voice rough. “Do you have any fucking idea what you’re doing to me,micina? How crazy you are making me?”

She moans as if she hears me before her head thrusts back and her swollen lips part to suck in desperate breaths. Her nipples pucker against the bra I silently prayed for her to remove last night, and I reach out my hand, too overwhelmed to remember I’ve never touched without consent before.

Karma scalds me for a previous mistake before I can make another.

The phone I put on the nightstand last night buzzes with a reminder that Azra isn’t my personal plaything. She’s heating my sheets because she wants to marry another man.

I stare at the glowing reminder until it fades, leaving the room darker than before. Then I enter the bathroom faster than I exited it.

The shower did nothing to clear my head. My blood remains as hot as lava, and my cock is as firm as a baseball bat. I refuse to pretend that what I almost did last night doesn’t matter, so I didn’t let myself ease the tension with a quick, unsatisfying shower stroke.

I leave the bathroom with a towel slung low around my hips and water dripping down my back. Even with the early-morning light slipping through the curtains, the room is dim.

Azra is awake.

Restlessness weighs heavily in her eyes, and her hair is tangled. She doesn’t look as vulnerable as the woman I imagined while ignoring the throbbing of my cock, which told me the next week might be easier for everyone if I let go of the tension. She doesn’t look violated. She looks human. Real.

She stalks my cross of the room, then begins her greeting with a groggy smile. “Morning,” she murmurs, voice rough with sleep.

When I return her greeting with a smirk, she tries to hold my gaze, but her eyes drop to the rivulets of water trickling multiple times overthe bumps in my midsection. She’s not at all embarrassed to eye-fuck me as if I’m her favorite dessert on the menu.

The reminder of her ruse should ensure I don’t enjoy her attention.

I do, though.

Very much so.

Confident I’ll never have a decent thought with all the blood in my body rushing to my cock, I force myself into the walk-in closet. For a second, I consider closing the door. Then I curse my stupidity under my breath.

I stroked my cock mere inches from her face only hours ago.

She’s already seen everything I have to offer.

Acting coy now would be pointless.

Leaving the door open and dressing slowly, I relish every spiked breath of my roommate. As I re-enter the bedroom, Azra watches me with the same sleepy softness her eyes held last night when she brought herself to climax.

I cough to clear my throat. “How’s the head?”

Pulling the blanket up to hide her erect nipples, she grimaces. “A little achy.”

I sit on the edge and cover my toes with socks. “That’s expected.”

For a novice, she drank too much too fast and sampled too many varieties. I should have stopped her sooner and taken her home before she hit a point where stupid ideas seem rational.

I snap my eyes up when Azra murmurs, “And my memories are a little hazy.”