Her sharp intake of breath tells me my words have hit her hard. They’re true. I wouldn’t say that shit to just anyone. If all I wanted was a quick fuck, I could go out and have any chick in my sight line. I don’t want that with her.

Do I want to fuck the shit out of her? Absolutely.

But there’s something else I want from Lucy Christianson. I don’t know what it is, or how I’m going to get it without burning us both alive, but I’ll figure it out.

“Why me?” she asks.

“Because I can’t get you out of my fucking head. And my head is a fucked-up place to be, somewhere you should never venture.”

“It doesn’t seem that bad,” she says.

“Oh, Little Bee, you have no fucking idea,” I tell her. “Undo that button on your shorts.”

“I-I shouldn’t be doing this.” Sᴇaʀch Thᴇ Find_Nøvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

“But you will, so let’s not waste any more time. I’ve been dying to hear you come for me again. Undo that button and put those little fucking fingers in your dripping pussy.”

“What makes you think I’m wet?”

“Are you wet for me, Little Bee?”

“Maybe you should just come here and find out for yourself.”

“That would be playing with fire, Lucy, and you don’t want that. Put your fingers in your cunt and tell me that you’re soaked for me.” My own hand dives under my shorts, my fist wrapping around my cock. This girl has me rock-fucking-hard and she’s not anywhere near me. I listen as her breath hitches, while I’m watching her actions on the live feed. “Good girl,” I praise her. “How wet are you, Lucy?”

“Very,” she mumbles.

“Good. I want you to close your eyes. Imagine that I’m there with you. On top of you. Those are my fingers fucking your tight little cunt right now.”

“How can I imagine that if I don’t know who you are? And I don’t know what you look like?”

“Close your eyes. You don’t need a face. Just listen,” I instruct her. I wait until I see her lean her head back against the pillow and do as she’s told. “Good girl, I’m going to destroy that pretty pussy of yours. My fingers are fucking you right now, stretching you out for when I finally bury my cock inside you.” I groan at the thought. “When I finally fuck you, it’s going to destroy us both, but what better way to go out… I can feel your cunt strangling my fingers, Little Bee. Can you feel that?” I ask her.

My fist pumps up and down my cock with hard, fast strokes. My thumb brushes over the tip, collecting the precum that’s leaking like a damn tap.

“Oh god!”

I can hear her fingers moving in and out of her faster.

“Rub your thumb around your clit,” I tell her.

“It’s too much,” she huffs out.

“It’s not nearly enough. I want you to come for me, Lucy. I want to hear your screams.”

She doesn’t disappoint. She screams out a string of expletives as I watch her legs squeeze together. Her whole body shakes as the orgasm blasts through her.

“Fuck!” I growl as my own body explodes to the sound of her pleasure.

“Shit. I wasn’t meant to do this again,” she whispers.

My chest heaves up and down. I’m doing everything I can to relax my breathing, to stop myself from driving to her apartment and collecting her. “If I could lock you in a glass jar and watch you come over and over again, I would.”

“You’re right, you know,” she says.

“About what?”

“Your brain is a fucked-up place to be.”

“You have no idea. Wear the dress, Lucy,” I tell her before hanging up the phone and tossing it across the room.

Fucking hell, I was meant to be staying away from her. What the fuck is wrong with me?

I should have more restraint than this. I’m stronger than this fucking pull that keeps drawing me closer to her.

I walk into the bathroom and turn on the tap—obviously one shower wasn’t enough—before stripping out of my shorts. I throw them into the hamper and step under the hot water. My cock is half-hard again already while my head is filled with the image of her coming undone, the sweet fucking sounds of her pleasure.

“DOMINIC, ARE YOU READY?” my mum calls out.

“Coming… You know, they really should make a penguin suit that’s actually fucking comfortable,” I complain, pulling at my bowtie.

“Language, and that penguin suit is custom fitted, so stop complaining.”

“Sorry,” I apologise and don’t mean it.

“No, you’re not. Come on.” My mum holds out her arm and I wrap my own around it, escorting her to the waiting car.

Once we’re both situated in the back seat of the limo, I pour myself a whiskey from the mini bar. “What was this event for again? And who do I have to pretend to like?” I ask.

“Oh, I don’t remember who we’re seated with. But I’m sure you’ll be your usual charming self. We’re raising funds for my foundation,” Mum says.

I didn’t know she was hosting. And now I feel like a shit son for being so out of the loop. My parents have a foundation that provides free therapies and help for youths, particularly for those who self-harm.

“Sorry, I didn’t know it was yours,” I tell her. This time I mean it.

“It’s fine. I don’t expect you to keep yourself up-to-date on every charity event, Dom. There are a lot of them.”

“I know, but I should know about yours.”

When we arrive at the venue, I escort my mum into the room, and she takes the lead before sitting us at the front table. She claims her seat and I walk around the chairs, scanning for place cards while trying to get an idea as to who I’ll be forced to endure for the rest of the night.

“Where are the place cards?” I ask my mum when I can’t seem to locate them.

“There aren’t any. Just sit down. People are arriving, Dominic,” she says.

Weird… There are always seating charts at these events. I don’t question her though; instead, I do as I’m told while my knee bounces up and down in anticipation. I don’t like the not knowing. I fucking hate surprises and I hate people even more. So not knowing who I have to deal with for the next few hours has me on edge.

It’s not long before I find out though. And, honestly, I think I’d prefer to go back to the not knowing. Because, as my eyes take in who is currently heading straight for our table, I want to walk out before I do something stupid. Like ruin this entire event for my mother—who just so happens to be looking at me with a mischievous smirk on her face.

She knew who would be sitting here all along…

Fuck. How the fuck am I going to get out of this?

By the time Lucy and her mother reach the table, I know it’s too late. All I can do is hope like fuck she doesn’t recognise my voice.

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