Chapter 49

Chapter Forty-Nine

The things I want to do with you…

I have no idea how long I stare after you with a big grin on my face. At some point, I break free from my stupor and fish your bra out of my trouser pocket to press my nose into the fabric that was recently touching your perfect breasts and inhale your scent.

My cock is still hard, and I wasn’t lying earlier. I could fuck you all night, and I still wouldn’t get enough of you. The things I still want to do to you… The different scenarios instantly flood my mind, and I have to adjust my already aching cock in my jeans. I would love to see you on your knees in front of me right now. With my cock in your mouth, my hand buried in your curly hair so that I can push myself deep into your throat. Fuck…!

I press your bra firmly against my nose and inhale your scent, letting it intoxicate me like a junkie craving his next fix. But your faded scent on a piece of fabric isn’t the next shot I’m longing for. It’s like cheap and stretched methadone. It’s not even enough to satisfy me for three seconds. Just you, naked in my bed every night and every day—that would be the only thing that would satisfy me completely. That would be the right stuff to catapult me into the perfect frenzy, to give me what my body and especially my cock need.

But you are gone. Back on your way to your husband, who doesn’t deserve you. You’ll lie in his bed even though we both know you belong in mine. Fuck, Beauty! I can’t take this anymore! You belong to me! Because if you can’t belong to me, then you shouldn’t belong to anyone!

I drop what I am holding in my hands because my thoughts are so dark that I scare myself from them. No, damn it! Not you! Nothing must ever happen to you! Especially not by my hands!

Gasping, I tug at my hair, struggling to contain the darkness that surges wildly within me, tearing open the old, once-sealed cracks with violent force. Roaring, I drop to my knees and pound the wet pavement with my fists. I want these images to stop spinning in my head. And yet, I can’t stop my hands from once again wrapping around this tender neck that I once loved so much and squeezing until she can’t breathe.

She should never have told me how sorry she was that she didn’t want me anymore. She was my first great love and didn’t want me as much as I wanted her. But she had to love me!

I swear I didn’t want to kill her. I wanted her to stop talking. I didn’t want her to say that she didn’t love me. Unfortunately, I silenced her for good because when I finally came to and let go of her neck, her eyes bulged out, her beautiful face was blue, and her elegant neck was fiery red. She was dead. I had taken her from me.

Roaring, I pound the earth like a madman—which I suppose I am—until my knuckles are bloody. But it doesn’t matter. I must get these images out of my head because it won’t happen to you. I won’t lose myself with you like I did with all the others before you. I promise you, Beauty. You won’t die by my hand because you’re different. You love me more than anyone has ever loved me. You love me…