Those eyes fuck with my concentration like nothing else. She has the kind of eyes that could bring a man to his knees-soft, dark eyes that make me think of tangled sheets and naked flesh. “Where are we going?” she asks, blinking, her long black lashes sweeping up and down like fans. I have trained her to feel that way.Īfter a couple of minutes, she stirs in my arms, lifting her head to look at me. She knows my true nature, yet she still feels safe with me. I like to feel her cuddled against me, all soft and trusting. It used to bother me, this obsessive craving, but now I’m used to it. My cock twitches, and I remind myself that I just fucked her. I want to strip her bare and follow that scent everywhere, to explore every curve and hollow of her body. It’s a combination of some shampoo and her unique body chemistry, and it makes my mouth water. Inhaling, I draw in her scent-light and flowery, deliciously feminine. Not since I kidnapped her for the first time. She hasn’t cut her hair in nineteen months. It’s long now, reaching all the way down to her narrow waist. She’s sitting pressed against my side, her slim arms wrapped around me and her face buried in the crook of my neck.Ĭradling her with one arm, I stroke her dark hair, delighting in its silky texture. We’re in the car on the way to the airport. Days when the thin cloak of civilization threatens to slip at the least provocation, revealing the monster inside. There are days when the urge to hurt, to kill, is too strong to be denied.
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