Page 13 of Shattered Souls

My cock is still pressing against my pants, painfully now. I want to storm into that little room and force her to her knees to take care of this feeling she’s caused. I want to see fear shining in her eyes as she gags on my length, but still takes it like the good girl I know she’ll be.

I grab her panties from my pocket and toss them onto my bed.

I stare at them, my mind racing with different scenarios.

Fuck.

I flick my belt off and shove my pants down. My cock springs free and my hand naturally strokes the aching girth, my tip already leaking with pre cum.

I pick up her panties.

I bring them up to my face and timidly inhale.

Oh, fuck me.

I groan into the soaked fabric and let my hand glide up my cock.

She smells like heaven, like my undoing.

I fist my cock while letting the smell of her arousal fuel the fantasies that I’ve kept hidden for thirty-two years. I can see her perfectly pale skin under me while I finger her soaked pussy and she calls out my name or my mouth buried in that small patch of heaven between those thighs.

I toss the fabric back on the bed and let my hot load shoot out onto her arousal in thick ribbons until my balls empty, but my soul comes alive.

I haven’t felt this human in so many years I almost forgot the feeling entirely.

I shower, eat the dinner Seek left out on the counter for me, and sit down to read a book after my incident in my room. Seek is nowhere to be seen the whole time—probably punishing me more for my outburst.

I try desperately to get into the novel that I have open in my lap, but my eyes won’t stop wandering to the door to my left. To the woman that sits naked and death terrified.

Before I can think better than to stop myself, I’m standing in front of her door with a blanket and a small plate of food. The door opens and immediately she uncurls from the bed and crawls as far away from me as she can get.

“You don’t need to run anymore, little scarecrow.” I sign with my free hand.

Of course, she doesn’t respond.

I place the blanket and the food down on her bed, and take a step away to let her feel safer. She eyes the food timidly but doesn’t move.

“Eat,” I sign, pointing to the steaming plate of eggs.

“What? Nothing big and tough to say now?” She bites out at me.

I cross my arms over my chest and wait for the fire in her to dwindle. It doesn’t take long.

Her eyes soften and she unfolds herself to move towards the plate. She crawls over to the plate and picks up the fork.

She toys with the eggs before standing and charging at me, fork reared back and ready for attack. The room is so small all I can do to deflect her attack is move my face out of her line of fire.

Pain blooms in my shoulder, but not enough to move me from my spot.

Her eyes double in size and she takes a few steps backwards. I turn my head and look at the utensil that now sticks straight out of my trap.

Hmm, maybe she won’t be as easy to break as I thought.

“Shit,” She covers her mouth with her hand. “I’m sorry.”

Blood trickles down my shoulder between the prongs. All I can do is watch the fear in her eyes and bite the inside of my cheek to avoid touching my once again raging erection.

I grab the handle of the fork and pluck it from my flesh. Her eyes train on every single movement, and I can see something hiding behind the fear. A sick smile pulls at my lips.