Noah
bonus scene
“Baby, you know you want it.”
My mind spins, swirling like a merry-go-round as her words echo in my ear. My eyes flutter closed, rolling back as a shiver courses through me. I lick my lips, my gaze locked on her as her hands roam down my chest, slipping lower until they sink into my jeans.
The music from the club ticks like a tidal wave, each beat of the bass sending me higher—deeper into the abyss of ecstasy.
“You want this, baby?” the nameless chick asks.
“Mmmm…” I respond, giving the robotic answer she wants to hear. Her hand slides into my jeans, wrapping around my cock, and I let out a deep breath. Her small hand grips me, and I lie back on the couch, my eyes closing. I picture big, serious eyes fixed on me, blazing with anger. My dicks pulses, and I moan, desperate for her touch. Fucking greedy. “What do you want me to do?” she asks, and I imagine it's her, gripping my cock, begging me.
The drugs coursing through my veins fuck with my head, conjuring a vivid image of her kneeling at my feet. Her scent fills the air—cherries and vanilla and it's intoxicating. “Choose me,” I whisper, my voice unfamiliar. Behind my closed eyelids, I see her bold eyes, sharp and wicked, piercing straight into mine.
The urge to touch her overwhelms me. I want to thread my fingers through her hair, grab a handful, and pull her closer. My body reacts instantly, springing to life, but her gaze remains locked on mine, unyielding and unreadable.
“Tell me it’s my cock you want,” I growl.
“Whatever you want, baby. Yeah, I want your cock.” the voice purrs.
Something feels off.
It doesn’t sound right.
It’s not her.
“Come on…don’t you want this?”
She strokes me harder. Fuck. Just focus, . Hand, cock, cum…
“Want me to blow you? I'm not shy. I’ll do it right here.”
My head rolls as she starts pulling out my dick. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I numbly slide it out. I force an eye open, barely able to make out the screen. Seeing her name snaps me to attention.
I struggle to focus; my mind is clouded.
“Baby, just relax.”
“Get the fuck off me.” I push her away, stumbling forward as I try to unlock my phone. I scramble to my feet, disoriented, and make my way toward the exit. Once outside, I lean against the wall, phone pressed to my chest.
When I pull it up to read the text, a ripple of emotion hits—shock, disappointment… and, fuck, maybe even amusement, because she’s the last person I expected. I read it again.
Brat: Our mom just died. Have a soul and come home. She’ll need you.
I read the message three more times. Well, isn’t this an interesting change of events? The little brat, barking orders like I’ll drop everything and come running home.
But then the sadistic side of me whispers—this is my chance.
To see her.
To berate her.
To feel something again.
I glance at the text one more time. My cock twitches at her bossiness. Georgia doesn’t need me, I've accepted that. But the craving for retribution? That’s alive and kicking.
I want revenge.
Maybe this is my opening. Tit for tat. What’s the harm in a little bit of fun along the way?
I text back.
Me: See you soon, brat.
Stay tuned for and Lettie’s forbidden journey!
Summer2025