Chapter 7
BLADE
The soft taps of my shoes echo against the laminate floors as I step into Amelia’s room. She’s still asleep, her hair spread out like a halo on the pillow. The comforter rises and falls with each soft breath, her eyelashes fluttering like she’s dreaming. I stand there for a moment just watching her, and that moment stretches into minutes—I don’t even know how many before I realize I’m staring like a creep.
It’s been over two hours since she started her nap, and she’s still out cold.
Moving quietly, I glance around the room. I already knew that she loves the color pink, but her room tells just how much. Pink walls, comforters, pink accents everywhere.
It’s honestly one of the things that draws me to her. Her hyper-femininity—the pinks and florals, the hair bows, the scent of roses wherever she walks, the tennis skirts, the softness. She’s a vibrant burst of color in my dull world.
I’ve never had anyone like her before. Back then, I was usually with party girls for the optics of it all, those with loud, annoying as fuck personalities, so her delicate mannerisms are like a breath of fresh air. She calms the part of my brain that screams at me, the part of me that’s always on edge, ready to snap.
After I get bored of straightening up her cluttered rows of lotions and perfumes, I walk over to the bedside and bite my lip as I look at her. Her tear-stained cheeks instantly send a jolt of electricity straight to my cock. I just wish I’d been the one to put those tears there instead of her jackass father.
I haven’t done anything sexual, not even palming my own cock, since the moment I decided she would be mine. I told myself it would be ten times better when I finally had her if I saved my dick just for her. Even from myself.
The first time I saw her, in the dining hall, I felt a magnet pulling me towards her, but I tried to shake it off. I mean, fawning over a girl, me? But I couldn’t. The more I tried to push her out of my mind, the more she occupied every corner of it.
And that’s when I started keeping tabs on her, stalking her.
It was the twenty-first of August the first day I followed her. Honestly, she was pretty boring—classes, cheer tryouts, library, dinner, and back to the dorms. That was her routine for a while.
She wasn’t going to make the cheer team, so I had to pull some strings with the coach. Practice can be all over the place, so I asked the coach to text me every time practice starts and lets out, and whenever there’s a schedule change. Can you believe she told me I had to pay her to do that?
But it’s worth it. I don’t really care about money. Hell, I could be content living on lower six figures if it came down to it. So really, Amelia can take all my money if she wants.
Back to the task at hand.
Now that Amelia is finally within my clutches, I can finally get a release. I pull down my pants, just to my upper thigh, gripping my cock in my hand. It’s already half-hard just from watching the rise and fall of her chest as she sleeps.
Fuck, she has perfect tits.
I’m a boob guy, through and through. Well, an ass guy too, especially when it’s red from my handprints. But boobs? They’re my bread and butter.
I jerk my hand faster, imagining all the torture I could inflict on hers. I could bite, suck, nibble—fuck, I could fuck them. I could get some nipple clamps and make them sore. I could run my knife along them and make them bleed. I could pierce them while she’s unconscious and run my tongue along the metal before taking it into my mouth.
Fuck.
Goddamn it.
I bite my fist to control any noise from escaping, and my heavy breathing is the only sound in the air. I imagine her on her knees, looking up at me with doe eyes that say she’d do anything I asked. Her chest poking out. Her mouth wide open, ready to take me in. Ready to let me use her however I want.
When I release, I can’t help but grunt, teeth clenched, as the hot liquid spills into my hand. Fuck, after so long that was fucking amazing. I look around for a dirty t-shirt or something to wipe it off with but don’t see one. I scan the room until I spot an open lotion bottle on her nightstand, the cap already off.
Screw it.
I scrape the cum into the bottle, snap the cap back on, and sit it with the rest of the lotions. She’ll never notice.
I turn my attention back to her, the necklace chain running down her soft skin is the perfect fucking view. I just need a taste, one taste, and I’ve waited too long imagining how they feel in my mouth to stop myself now.
Every curve of hers drives me insane. I kneel beside the bed, gently peel her shirt back and fuck , the sight of her nipple pebbling in the cool air makes my cock spring back to life, even after just releasing.
I take the left one into my mouth, sucking softly before laying my tongue flat against it and giving a flick. She stirs, letting out a soft moan, the sexiest fucking noise I’ve ever heard in my life. Goddamn, I didn’t know I could be this turned on until I met her.
It takes everything, and I mean every bone of restraint left in my body, to stop myself from going any further. I pull her shirt back into place and go to stand up.
Wait a minute.
There’s a bottle of liquid cough medicine lying on the floor between her bed and nightstand, mostly empty, with some of it spilled on the floor. Her arm is stretched out above it like she dropped it while falling asleep.
Panic surges through me as I shake her. “Amelia!”
She makes a small noise but doesn’t budge. I shake her harder—nothing. Grunting in frustration, I grab the cup of water from her nightstand and drip some onto her face. She jerks awake, looking startled and confused.
I hold up the medicine bottle. “Did you just take this?”
“I… Huh?”
“How much was in here when you took this?” I demand, my voice getting rough.
“Maybe like, a third of the bottle?” She rubs her eyes, still groggy.
“A third—” I let out a deep, strained breath, trying to calm down. I could’ve come back here to her not fucking breathing. “Why?” She looks down, so I gently lift her chin, forcing her to look back up. “ Why? ”
“Sometimes after he yells at me, I just want to sleep and forget about it,” she whispers.
I half-sigh and sit on the bed, cupping her cheek. My voice softens, even though it doesn’t come naturally to me. I’ve never really had to comfort someone before, mostly because I never cared about anyone’s feelings enough to try. “Promise me you’re not going to do this anymore. And you’ll come to me when you feel like you want to sleep.”
She hesitates, her lip caught between her teeth, but finally, she nods.
“Say it out loud.”
“I promise,” she murmurs.
“Good girl.” I brush my hand gently down her arm, feeling the goosebumps rise under my touch. “I’m proud of you for agreeing. You’re strong, you know? You don’t deserve him to treat you like that, and you don’t have to handle it on your own anymore.”
She sucks in a breath and a soft hum escapes her lips, almost like the remnants of a whimper.
“How long have you been doing this?” I ask.
Before she can open her mouth to answer, my phone rings. I glance at the screen, see the caller ID, and stand, walking over to the dresser before answering. “Hello?”
“I have a package that needs to be permanently removed from circulation tonight,” John’s gruff voice cuts through the static.
“Tonight? You gotta be fucking kidding me.”
Tonight. When I just laid a claim on Amelia and made her mine. This is the worst possible timing.
“It’s just one night, you’ll be back by tomorrow night at the latest. The location of the package is already secured.”
“Fine,” I spit out before abruptly hanging up. Did I mention I fucking hate this job?
My clenched jaw loosens when I turn back around to Amelia. Her hair is tousled, framing her face, and her eyes, though clouded from sleep, shine with concern.
Concern for me .
And that makes my frustration dissipate, melting away like ice caps under the sun. How does she manage to calm me down with just one look?
“Do you want to go back to the dorms or stay here?” I ask her.
“Um, I’ll go to the dorms.”
“I’ll drop you off. I won’t be back until late tomorrow night. So the day after tomorrow, I’ll pick you up for lunch.”
“Okay.”
“Do you have a paddle brush?”
Her brows knit together. “Hm?”
“So I can do your hair. Unless you rather leave it messed up.”
“Uh…” She hesitates, caught off guard. “Um, yeah. It’s in the bathroom, should be in the top drawer of the cabinet.”
I know she’s weird about her hair, so I learned everything I could about wavy hair maintenance, even brought a mannequin and practiced on it.
“Do you have a spray bottle?” I ask.
“Of what?”
“Water.”
“Why would I need a spray bottle of water for my hair?”
I blink at her a few times. Is she playing a joke on me? “Just stay there. I’ll get everything I need, and you don’t have to worry about a thing.”