Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 147801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147801 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Maybe because I’m spent and can’t resist him or because he squeezes my cheeks hard, I have no choice but for my lips to part.
Kayden leans down and spits cum right inside my mouth.
He spits my own cum—and his—in my mouth.
His eyes darken until they’re almost black. They have black flecks, I realize, as his face hovers so close to mine.
Amidst the gray, there are tiny, curious black patches that match his thick brows and hair.
And those flecks are overtaking the gray in a vicious invasion as he watches our cum pooling on my tongue, his grip not allowing me to swallow.
Then he thrusts two fingers in and pounds them to the back of my throat. “Swallow every last drop. I want to watch that throat stuffed full of cum.”
As I do, I accidentally swallow around his fingers. His groan drops on my skin like a fucked-up caress.
The taste is different from when it was only his cum the last time. It feels more fucked up, too.
Sick.
As someone who hates other people’s touch and fluids, I can’t seem to conjure a sense of disgust at his taste as I gobble everything he gives me the fuck up.
I can’t stop licking and swallowing.
The damn fucking drugs. It has to be.
Then all of a sudden, he pulls his fingers from my mouth and stands up.
I keep staring at him through a weird haze, my mouth dry and my body a hot, sweaty, and cum-covered mess as he frees my wrists.
They fall on either side of me, lifeless, with no power whatsoever.
Kayden’s long fingers tap my cheek. “You were a good boy today.”
A strange sensation happens.
It starts low, deep inside, and like wildfire, the smoldering spreads, quickly flooding my chest, my limbs, until I can barely breathe.
I blink as he walks into the bathroom with measured steps.
What the fuck was that feeling…?
My every nerve sparks with heat, my skin tight and flushed with warmth, and my mind is overblown with confusion.
We had the same drug and yet it feels like I’m the only laughingstock around here.
I pull my heavy body up, shaking my head when I stand and the room starts spinning.
Doesn’t matter if I die in a freak accident. I’m simply not staying here to find out what the fuck he’s planning to do next.
This man is more dangerous than his profiling suggests. Not because of his actions per se—though they’re unpredictable and disturbing—but what truly worries me is my reaction to those actions.
Pulling my jeans and boxers up in one hand, I stumble to the door, grabbing a jacket from the hanger on the way out and putting it on.
Forget about revenge.
I need to stay the fuck away before I get sucked into that disturbing man's orbit.
8
KAYDEN
Gareth stopped the part-time stalking job after he escaped from my apartment that night.
And he did escape.
I watched the security footage, and the little monster crashed into countless walls, nearly fell, and had to hold on to the elevator to remain upright.
He looked freshly fucked, his face red and streaks of cum in his messed-up hair. My jacket barely covered his hoodie’s scraps and the marks I decorated his chest with.
I might have saved a few videos for…future reference.
Sure, I should probably feel some form of confusion that I want to fuck a man and dick him down to the mattress while he writhed in both pleasure and pain.
It’s not normal, right?
For someone like me, teetering on mid-thirties to find a guy’s cum more delicious than five-star meals. Or that the memory of him shooting that cum into my mouth while wearing that lustful and surprised look makes my dick throb.
Straight men don’t fantasize about other men’s dicks or cum.
Or do they?
Honestly, who gives a fuck?
I don’t believe sexuality should be boxed in like some fools in my entourage. I still find women attractive and don’t really care for other men.
Except for my little monster who left me hanging that night. He didn’t even let me clean him up.
And I don’t usually care for that, cleaning up my sex partners, I mean. So maybe I just wanted to toy with him a bit more.
But he ran away before I could do so.
Pity.
That was four days ago.
I still have a couple more days until I see him in class, so I haven’t been able to monitor him properly.
A situation I attempted to rectify last night when I texted him.
Me
Did you happen to see a brown wool jacket on your escape route?
Carson
How do you have my number?
You believe you are the only one with sufficient access to resources? Typical brain-dead rich kid.
I don’t know why you love insulting me every chance you get, but I’m telling you to leave me alone. I’m done with your games.
I glared at the text.
He can’t be done.
That’s not how this works.
Besides, I’m the puppet master, not him.