Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
CADEN
Past
I brushed a strand of hair away from Rose’s face.
She stared back with tired, heavy-lidded eyes, and no wonder.
The student-faculty affair concluded hours ago.
On top of attending the party, she had arrived early to set up and perform a safety inspection.
I hadn’t exactly helped matters. From the moment she crawled into my bed, I hadn’t been able to keep my hands off her.
Rose just lost her virginity, and I had tried to hold back.
However, I couldn’t stop myself from exploring other parts of her body, waking her up every so often.
The proof of my hunger was etched into her exhaustion.
“Sleep,” I murmured into her hair, wondering how long I could hold out this time around.
She wordlessly obeyed by closing her eyes. The boat rocked gently over the still water, lulling her toward slumber.
Despite being in my arms, she felt far away in her sleep.
I pulled her closer until she was plastered against the front of my body.
It wasn’t enough. I wanted to mold us together until we somehow became one.
My dress shirt draped around her like a claim, my silent brand, whether she consented to it or not.
When she subconsciously clung to me, my chest roared with pride.
It was the final stroke of possession, which was turning into a dangerous territory where Rose was concerned.
Last night, I almost snapped when I saw her with that fucker, Doyle. She claimed she wasn’t interested. Then why was that asshole hovering over her every time I turned around? My jaw tightened just thinking about it.
She had been dressing boldly since I commented on her clothes, and now I regretted my words.
Doyle had been salivating after her. How much longer before more boys her own age took notice of her new wardrobe and tried to swoop in?
What if she decided she was ready to experiment now that she had gained some experience?
No. I wouldn’t allow it.
There would be no other men and certainly no experimenting.
Rose couldn’t back out after letting me in.
She had awakened something feral in me, something that had been lying dormant until now.
She hadn’t yet fully grasped what she had done.
The aftermath of rousing uncontrollable hunger in someone like me came with consequences.
Because this was unchartered territory for me, and even I couldn’t promise that my new savage compulsions wouldn’t consume her.
I needed to breathe in her essence and leave invisible marks that would tell the world she was mine.
To cover her with my scent, or better yet, cover her in me.
I sealed her mouth with mine. She kissed me in her sleep, parting her lips obediently because she already knew my touch. By the time I pulled away, my shuddered breathing filled the room.
The beast, the one she had awakened, clawed at my insides, demanding more of her—her scent, her taste, the sound of my name on her lips as she came undone. After finally having her under me, I didn’t know how to stop myself. It was my first encounter with losing control, a crack in my composure.
My lips traced her jawline, tasting salt and sleep, as my hand found its way between her thighs. I teased her bare skin—a silent question in the dark.
“Mm,” Rose murmured in her sleep.
When I did it again, she moaned louder.
I watched her as my fingers found her slick arousal.
My tongue traced a path along her skin, tasting her with deliberate intention.
I cupped the soft weight of her breast as my mouth found her nipple, teasing it with gentle flicks.
When I pulled it between my lips, Rose's body trembled against mine.
A small gasp escaped her lips. “Oh God!”
She didn’t have the energy to open her eyes, but her vocal reactions were all the encouragement I needed to continue.
I knew exactly where I wanted my mouth, between her trembling thighs.
I was obsessed since the first taste, and I was dying to return to what had become my new favorite place.
Starting from her breast, I kissed down to her stomach and neared her pussy.
I put my nose between her thighs and inhaled deeply like a dog needing to memorize the scent to find it again.
I pressed a kiss on her cunt and stroked her slit with two fingers. When I swiped her opening with my tongue, her head lolled back in her sleep.
“Oh God.”
“Fuck, you…are…addicting,” I stuttered in between licks.
Rose’s head moved side to side on the pillow as I devoured her with desperate hunger, my tongue circling and then delving inside.
Her body tensed, her hips lifting involuntarily from the sheets.
Though she twisted, I held her firmly in place until she shuddered, and I heard that raw, broken sound tear from her throat.
“Oh, fuck,” she cried out in her sleep. Or perhaps she had woken up. It was unclear, though the only thing I knew for certain was that she came.
I traced a path upward with my lips—inner thigh, the curve of her breast, the hollow of her throat—until I found her mouth.
My cock pulsed against the heat of her thighs.
The images in my mind were nothing short of savage.
I wanted to see her writhe, to feel her buck and twist under me, to make her understand how it felt to be powerless, desired, and owned all at once.
I wanted to hear her beg, to hear her whisper my name with every ragged breath.
The being inside me roared with the need to claim her—harder, deeper, until every step she took tomorrow reminded her who owned her.
As much as I wanted to seize her, to unleash the predator I had kept caged for months, I was unsure whether Rose could withstand the full brunt of my attack. The way I wanted to take her would scare her and she would see me the same way as my parents.
I held back instead of giving in to the animal roaring inside me.
Instead, I slid along her folds, coating myself in her arousal until I was on the brink.
I jerked my cock with my fist, and when I came, it was sharp and raw.
Her name tore out of me like a warning, and I painted her skin with my cum.
I spread it over her thighs and stomach, working it in with a dark satisfaction that I had hopefully ruined her for anyone else.
When Rose drew in a shuddering breath, I nudged her to my chest. I spent the rest of the night watching her.
I grazed my thumb over the apple of her cheek, trailing my finger down to her jaw.
I studied her face, tracing every detail.
Pink lips parted just enough to reveal a hint of moisture on the fuller bottom lip.
Dark lashes cast delicate shadows across her flushed cheeks.
Her wild hair splayed across my pillow like a chaotic halo.
Even with her messy, tangled hair and smudged makeup, she was a wet dream.
Incomparable.
Invaluable.
Mine.
Every time she stirred, I noted something new about her—the slight asymmetry of her lips, the tiny mole beneath her left ear that no one else would notice. She was the fantasy I was starting to think would never come alive. Now that it finally had, I knew I would never let her go.
Denying myself over the past few months had taken more effort than anything I had experienced. There was no argument about it. No man on this useless planet had wanted a girl as much as I wanted her because my existence was tethered to her.
Rose was my first human connection.
When I was young, I never understood why lesser human beings were obsessed with creating connections.
My mother, for example. Her strongest bond in this world was Damon.
It was probably because golden boy saw the best in people and forgave her flaws, including her addiction.
He saw the telltale signs but wholeheartedly believed she would change.
He was always in her corner, and in turn, she did everything in her power to make him happy.
She once stood in line all night to get him the newest gaming console.
It was nearly impossible to find due to the high demand.
Stock sold out within seconds of becoming available, and the only way to get your hand on one was standing in long lines.
But she didn’t mind and even bought the accompanying zombie apocalypse game.
Though it was rated M for Mature, it was worth it to her when he had stared at her gift with wide-eyed joy.
“No way, Mom. This is the Nexora Viba,” Damon had said, his voice reaching an octave only dogs could hear.
I placed my fingers over my eardrums to silence all the happiness. Leaning against the living room armoire, I watched the picture-perfect family. They hadn’t noticed me walk through the doors. Then again, my mother couldn’t see anyone else when Damon was around.
Her eyes were beaming, all proud of herself that she could do this for him. “There’s another surprise. Check the other bag.”
He opened the second gift bag and fished out a video game. “Holy shit! Doom of the Dead ?!” His voice had cracked with excitement.
“Language, Damon,” she had lightly chided.
“Sorry, Mom,” he had obliged sheepishly. We cursed all the time at school. While I didn’t keep up the facade in front of our parents, poster child was nothing if not obedient. Damon spun the box in his hands. “This is so awesome. But I thought Dad said we weren’t allowed to play rated-M games.”
Her eyebrow arched mischievously. “Then we better make it our little secret. Besides, I think you’re mature enough to handle it.”
“Thanks, Mom. Seriously. You’re the best.” He threw his arms around her.