Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86597 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 433(@200wpm)___ 346(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
I assumed he’d be arrested and put on trial, but what if whoever Carl hired ended up hurting Nico? I never wanted that, but it’s not like it’s in my power to call off the hounds.
Why am I regretful at all when he is a murder. A kidnapper. A damn serial killer who makes snow globes with people’s teeth.
Though I have to admit those are pretty impressive.
My heart clenches when I think of him describing himself as a black hole. I sense the depth of loneliness in that, and I empathize more than I’d like to admit. Nico will surely feel betrayed once he finds out I’ve reported him. I can hardly bear it, and it hasn’t even happened yet!
I’m in knots over asking to be rescued only to then go downstairs to admire his art and suck his face. Fuck. He’s so unbearably attractive I’m losing my mind. Or was it the all-day date that’s short-circuited my common sense?
I can’t be falling for him, can I? That would be insane.
I had so much fun earlier. He was interesting but also listened to me as if he really cared about what I had to say.
Am I so unused to people having conversations with me I find that impressive? Or is it the way he’s set on me that turns me into goo? There is no wishy-washy I-maybe-like-you-a-bit. He’s made it clear what he wants. And it’s me.
In the dark, the stars I see through the window on the sloped ceiling seem almost as bright as the electronic clock showing that it’s almost three at night. And still, nobody has called or knocked on the door.
This can’t be right. What is Carl waiting for? I can’t keep being torn like this.
Especially not with Nico hugging me from behind as if I’m his personal body pillow. He only has a pair of pajama pants on, and it’s melting my brain how hot he is. Not just because he’s tall, muscular and ripped. He’s literally overheating me. Or am I so excited by his presence and touch that I’m turning into a human radiator?
Whenever his dick presses to my ass, I remember our little make out session in his murder memorabilia room and how hard he got back then.
I’m impressed by my own self-control, because I was on the verge of giving in, but still remembered I couldn’t stay down in Nico’s hidden lair too long.
But I wanted to.
I want to kiss him more and have him touch me before he’s taken. I want to feel him on top of me and smell his arousal. How come I’m such a messed-up pervert at only eighteen? Will I be the kind of creep who ends up writing filthy letters to him when he’s in prison?
I barely keep in a whine when his nose rubs my nape before releasing hot air that has my toes curling. He’s holding me firmly, as if he were ready to part my buttocks with his cock. Which is hard and poking at me.
I’m sweating.
I can’t think.
But tonight, he didn’t even cuff me. I could…
My balls throb when he moves again and I remember him teasing me about his fantasy of accosting me in my studio. Would he wear the balaclava? Would every single one of my live viewers hear us having sex? Would they comment in the chat?
I bite my lip to hold in a moan, and I’m not even touching myself. Yet. I press my ass against the cock straining in his pants. With my luck, the cops will burst in here when Nico’s balls-deep inside me.
I have to take a deep breath, but I wiggle against his cock nevertheless, just… feeling it.
He’s asleep and likely having erotic dreams, but I imagine him to be awake and testing me, waiting for me to give him the green light. For me to tell him I can’t wait any longer, or just slide my hand into his pajama pants.
I place my warm palm on my throat, and then slide it down my chest, reimagining it as Nico’s as I squeeze my pec and open my thighs enough to relieve the pressure of fabric on my growing cock.
His arm embraces my waist, and I ever-so-gently run my fingers over it. He’s like steel, and I love that he’s a bit older, more experienced, and confident. A dampness on my thigh tells me I’m leaking pre-cum already. What would it feel like to have his strong big hand on my dick?
My pulse speeds up when his breath tickles me again. I’m in bed with a man. Tightly hugged. I’m both at peace and erratic from a mix of fear and arousal. He’s so handsome I’m sure he’ll get serial killer groupies offering him marriage on day one of his trial.
But for now, he’s with me, and I’m the only one who knows the truth about him.