Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
F rom the driveway, I watched her through the cameras. Her hair fanned around her as she was curled in a ball on the floor. My little muse . The one person who inspired me to unravel in my own demise. Her chest rose and fell steadily, as if she was comforted in the faux safety of her home.
Circling around the back of the house, I knew the professor occupying the front was on vacation. I had hijacked her security systems so they’d glitch right now, not giving me away. The woman sleeping a few feet away, in the little cabin at the edge of the forest, was a crafty one. Despite her earlier attempts to convince me she lived in another apartment with some guy, I relished the devious grin that crossed her face as she rushed home, unaware that I was lingering in her shadows. I would always be there, watching her—because I was going to make her mine.
Her failure to acknowledge or express gratitude for my assistance with the bar dilemma was profound disrespect, only emphasizing her need for me. She needed a teacher, someone who could show her what true safety meant.
I needed to provide that for her. During the drive into Isles, I realized I would never marry my father's chosen match. She couldn't keep pace with my lifestyle, and, for once, I needed to seize control. I desired a queen on my throne. After all, I was born to be a leader. I had to convince my father this was the right path.
After rounding the back of the cabin, I lifted the bathroom window. She left it unlocked, as she liked to vent the humidity after a shower. Otherwise, I would’ve used the key I had made, but then I would’ve chanced disturbing her since she fell asleep by the door.
As I stalked through her house, I stopped at each little knickknack that graced the corners of the rooms. A small stuffed animal with burned fur rested on a chair in the small living room. I was curious enough to examine it before placing it back where it belonged.
"What secrets are you hiding?" I whispered as I walked over to where Madison lay on the ground. I crouched next to her, reveling in her innocent sleeping form and how her chest rose and fell with every inhale.
"A little liar you are, Muse." I lifted her in my arms bridal style. She was dead asleep. The combination of adrenaline and booze must’ve overwhelmed her body.
As I held her in my arms, something inside of me snapped. I was every bit the brutal man on the outside, craving power and the deep desire to show the world what I was capable of. But being inside this little cabin, none of that need flared to life, I just had a need to protect Madison.
It was the same feeling I had when we first met, and every moment since. Was it absurd I had her followed for three long years? Absolutely. If anyone in the family found out, would I be totally fucked? Probably. Was I thinking about risking it all to be with her? Yes.
"Fuck," I gruffed. These thoughts were not supposed to occur. The goal was to punish her for everything she did to my sister and to seek retribution for everything she had done to our family in the past. Yet, whenever in her presence, there was something about her that complicated everything.
Carrying her over to the bed, I admired her relaxed state. She was Maddy to everyone else, but to me, she was the only girl who could stomach my secrets. Somehow after all these years, I still saw her.
"You’re nothing but a liar," I whispered in her ear. It carried the tone of a lullaby a lover would share, but the words were harsh. She hurt my family, so why did I feel this need to cradle her in my arms? When I was in her presence, my world tilted on its axis.
I laid her on her bed before sitting in the brown leather reading chair beside her.
Pulling out my phone, I scanned the images of my future wife, then glanced at the sleeping princess in front of me with her red hair splayed over the pillow.
"Think," I said before I stood from the chair.
Slowly, I took off her heels. She was wearing a shirt so short that most of her breasts were exposed and it took so much out of me not to reach up and play with her pink nipples.
I unbuttoned her jeans and pulled them off; they couldn't be comfortable to sleep in. Or maybe that was an excuse to admire her exposed pussy with the little landing strip neatly trimmed. My hands drifted over her creamy skin, and I’d almost forgotten how soft and smooth it was.
I needed to focus. My resolve was fixed on charting a course to ascend as the head of the Italian Mafia, the foremost leader in all underground circles, and construct an empire of my own. Yet, paradoxically, I found myself ensnared in the echoes of emotions reminiscent of the years past. In her presence, I unraveled, my heart, once frozen, thawing in the warmth she emanated.
And dear God, my cock throbbed at knowing how good I could make her feel, how she’d come undone on my fingers or my cock, and her pussy would wreck me. Shit, I knew I was fucked the moment I set foot in this town and heard her crying at the bar. When I set that man’s dick on fire, burning it to ash, it was far from the plan I had in place to just see her—watch her. I did it out of pure anger and adrenaline. She was the demise to any control I thought I had.
I tucked one of her legs inside the blanket, but let the other out as, leaving her stomach and pussy on full display. Leaning back into the recliner, I watched her eyelashes flutter as she slept. Being her stalker was more fun when I got to watch her in person. There was no grainy pixelation or anything left up to my imagination. No. She was right there.
I slid the zipper down on my jeans, popping out my hard cock. Every single ounce of control I had left around this woman was being put to the test. Precum beaded my tip as my queen slept peacefully next to me. Grabbing onto my shaft, I pumped myself a few times and leaned over, placing one of my elbows on my knees. I was holding onto as much of my girth as I could as I imagined what it would be like to taste the sweetness that came from her.
I could only picture my tongue as an airplane making its landing onto the strip of red hair covering her mound. I would lap every morsel of sweetness that dripped from her wet pussy as she clenched around me. The thought of losing control in her presence only made my hand work my aroused cock faster.
Stroking myself, I imagined her little cunt destroyed from the strength of my tongue as I flicked every sensitive bit. I’d bite her sensitive lips and revel in the crimson beading from my punctures. Letting the blood cover my cock as I pushed myself in. I always had a thing for women sleeping and blood, but knowing my muse would let me play with her in any way, only brought me closer to orgasm.
She would tell no one our dirty little secret. Because my muse was as kinky as I was. Over the last three years, I’d watched her tie a tie around her neck as she bounced on her nine-inch dildo suctioned to the floor. My muse liked to be choked and brought to the point of passing out before she exploded over her toy. There wasn’t any need to rely on her toy from here on out, unless we were using it to fuck her tight puckered hole.
She was never—I pumped my throbbing cock faster as my orgasm crested—going to—I threw my head back against the back of the chair—leave me.
I came all over my hand, and an explosive groan escaped my lips as I lifted my head and ropes of cum dripped onto the ground.
In the midst of wetting a washcloth to clean up the mess, I shook my head, then dropped the washcloth.
"A little souvenir to wake up to," I whispered, and stalked over to where my sleeping beauty lay unaware of how she just sent me to a full explosion, making me wish I was fucking her instead of my hand.
"In due time." It was a promise I kept repeating to her, but this time, the clock was my worst enemy.
Pushing away a small lock of hair, I dropped a kiss onto her cheek. It was the one thing we’d never shared. I never touched her lips because I couldn’t imagine what her lips would do. How much control would I have left once our mouths touched?
Every fiber of my being begged me to stay, but I had to push myself away from her.
I walked out the front door and locked it behind me.
"Fuck," I groaned, tugging at the dark hair mussed on my head.
Two reasons this was so wrong. The first was the amount of control and power this woman had over me was insurmountable. It infuriated me; no one had ever held power over me.
The second? This was the same girl my sister hated. I loved my sister deeply and would give her the world if I could, and I tried to for many years. Madison wasn't there for her; she was rude, put her in danger repeatedly, and blamed her along with the rest of the campus when her boyfriend passed away.
This was supposed to be revenge for my sister. I needed to control this overwhelming desire I had developed to see Madison, even though I knew I would be forced to marry someone else. The thought of going home without Madison Ryan was driving me over the edge.
I picked up my phone, dialing my brother-in-law’s number.
"Hey Walsh," Rain’s voice echoed through the phone’s speaker.
"I need to borrow the hunting cabin tonight," I said, hoping he would ask no questions. It had been three years since I’d stepped foot in Isles, and he knew that.
"In Isles?"
"Yes. I found myself up here for…business."
There was a strange pause. "Your dad is here for dinner, and he said you were taking a break to go visit some college friends in Seattle?"
Fuck.
"I lied. It’s unofficial business." I huffed as I walked down the gravel path toward the bar where I’d parked the car.
"It doesn’t have to do with the fact that you are going to get engaged soon?"
I liked Rain. He was my sister’s husband, and although we had a rough start, we’d somehow carved a friendship over the last few years. I loved that he cared for her and protected her even though she was stubborn about it. Neither of them wanted any involvement in the underground world, so they were both writers and preferred to keep away from any business, especially with Rain’s previous relationship with the Cartel.
"Nothing is set in stone," I said begrudgingly, crossing the street and making my way toward my favorite all-black Ferrari. It stuck out in Isles like a sore thumb. Most of the cars were beat-up trucks like what Bella Swan from Twilight drove. Don’t fuck around. That movie was legit, and my sister made me watch it a thousand times when we were younger.
"So, this trip to Isles?—"
"Nope. Can’t talk about it."
"If you wanna talk about it…"
"I obviously don't." I was getting fucking annoyed, and at this point, it had been a full day since I had eaten, so I was getting hangry, too.
"Alright, I’ll text you the code and pin." I let out a small sigh of relief as he reluctantly sent me the information.
"Thanks."
"I assume your sister shouldn’t know you’re back there with whatever you’re up to?" His tone was lower, as if he wanted no one else in the room to hear.
"Just…Fuck. I don’t know. If she asks, then tell her, but if she doesn't, then maybe keep it on the down low."
He sighed. "You got it. Stay safe."
"Always," I said as I hung up and opened the door, jumping in and speeding down the road toward the location where Rain kept the ATV to get to the cabin.
"I just need a plan," I mumbled to the empty car. There had to be some way out of this, I just hadn’t thought of it yet.