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She moans, and the sound encourages me to be bolder, to take her clit in my lips and suck, devouring her. Her hips lift in the air and my fucked-up brain takes that as an invitation, lapping at her pussy while fisting my cock. Her body gyrates, but she remains sound asleep.

“Finn,” she whispers.

My entire body goes still while my mind is thrust into panic and chaos. Rising, I peer at her angelic face. Her eyes are still shut, and she appears to be sleeping.

Did she whisper my name in her sleep? Is she dreaming of me?

I should feel ashamed and abandon my perversion. I should turn around and head back into my room or take a long cold shower to douse my burning body with ice-cold reality. But hearing her say my name doesn’t end the madness. It fuels it. Instead of pouring ice water on me, she’s poured gasoline on a flame.

I fist my cock in my hand while my mouth goes back to her folds and I lap at her cunt, savoring her taste, infusing it on my tongue and imprinting it on my brain. At that moment, I know this won’t be the last time I’ll taste her, and tasting her isn’t the only thing I want. I want Anissa under me, shaking as she calls my name.

I pump my cock until it’s on the brink of release, and instead of coming in my hand, which is what I should do, I rise and part her pussy lips and unload my cum on her clit and pussy.

Claiming her as mine.

Chapter Seven

ANISSA

Guilt washes over me because I slept like a baby the same night I witnessed the murder of my mother. My guilt increases when I realize I slept like a baby in the bed of her killer. But the worst part is I had a vivid sex fantasy about said killer while I slept.

The moment you realize that you’re a piece of shit with screwed-up morals is the moment you wake up to your own flawed nature. My nature is scum, total scum.

The dream was so realistic, his tongue on my clit, how he held my pussy open and ate me out like I was the best meal he’d ever feasted on. I didn’t realize I could want someone as bad as I did in that dream.

My hand trails down my body, the graphic memory of Finn’s touch lingering in my mind. I reach my hand towards my pussy and touch the wetness between my legs. I gather some in my fingers, thinking it’s just wetness pooled from being so turned on by the images in my sleep. But this is different. I bring it to my mouth and place it on my tongue. That isn’t from me.

Fuck. That wasn’t a dream. Finn was in here. It wasn’t enough for that fuckin’ son of a bitch to kill my mother, but he was actually in my room, violating me in my sleep.

But you liked it.

I bury my head in the pillow, trying to shut off my treacherous mind, but I can’t because the truth is I did like it. He can’t get away with this. I’d rather die than be his puppet. I hate that I’m caving to him. Letting him weasel himself into my world.

I whip the blanket off me and jump out of bed. My feet hit the hardwood floor with a vengeance as I storm to the door. I place my hand on the doorknob and turn, shocked when the door opens. Finn said he’d lock me in, and I didn’t even try to open the door yesterday. Now I’m kicking myself for being so stupid.

I storm down the hall, stomping my feet, wanting him to understand that I’m coming for him. Unlike him, I’m not a coward. I face shit head-on, not like a pathetic criminal. I turn the doorknob to his room, and all I see is a made bed and nothing else.

“If you’re lookin’ for me, Slugger, I’m in the kitchen.” The arrogant prick hollers. I can hear the humor in his voice, which enrages me further.

“I’m gonna stab you with that knife you’re holdin’,'' I yell as I walk right up to him. What I’m doing is insane. Finn is big, like huge, basically a giant. He could snap me like a twig and not even break a sweat, but here I am facing him down, pretending I’d stand a chance against him. “You fuckin’ came into my room and violated me. I don’t want you to touch me, you pervert. I want nothing to do with you. You’re disgusting. I hate you.”

His lips twitch, and the fucker smirks at me. “Is that why you were grinding your pussy in my face and moaning my name?”

I stare at him, not sure what else to do. He steps closer to me, and I swallow the lump in my throat as the heat rises from my core all the way to my face. He seems to take up all the oxygen in the room, and my brain just skips along, leaving me abandoned.


Tags: Mila Crawford Romance