CHAPTER10
Luke
Bringing my hand up to my chest, I rub the area around my sternum. Though I recognize the feelings swirling through my body, I have no idea why they’re there. I don’t know Shelaine. Not really. All I know is the urge to claim her and make her mine. But these tender feelings that threaten to choke me? That’s what I don’t understand.
Rummaging around the bathroom, I grab a washcloth and look around the space. For a dorm room, everything here is far fancier than I would have imagined. If I knew a college like this existed, I might have tried harder to get away from Ryker. But then, deep down, I know he would have never allowed me to escape.
I push those thoughts from my mind and focus instead on the woman waiting for me in the next room. Most girls screamed when I pulled out my knife, and even though Shelaine was obviously scared, she took it. She took it for me.
Perhaps that’s why I’m starting to think about her with affection instead of just mere satisfaction? I could feel the hesitancy in her body as I held the blade to her throat, but she never said stop. She never pushed me away. She accepted me in that moment.
Setting the rag down, I pull on a couple of drawers and search around until I find some ointment. She won’t need a bandage. Even in the throes of passion, I kept aware enough to not let the knife go too deep. Oh, I could feel the moment it slid into her skin. I could feel the reverberations through the blade and into my arm, as if it was my finger slicing through the delicate layers of her throat.
By the time I manage to calm my thoughts, becoming the cold man that’s unable to feel, Shelaine is asleep. Her soft snores reach me even before I can step back inside the room. In that instant, the cold shell I put around me drops, letting me feel everything.
Most of it is painful, but I’m slowly learning how to separate the two. Shelaine is indeed my salvation wrapped up in one sensual package. Walking over to the bed, I tip up her chin to look at her neck. She barely stirs, but her snoring becomes that much louder.
A wide grin stretches over my face that I just can’t contain. I was never with someone long enough to watch them sleep. Even with Lana and Parker, once my services were done, I was out the door to let them cuddle and snuggle. This is so new and unexpected that all I can do is sit in the chair nearby and watch her.
Her face is so soft and worry-free. She’s calm, serene, a goddess. I thought I wanted to pull her down, to sully her, but for a moment, I aspire to be worthy of her. It’s stupid, really. How can someone so damaged as me ever hope to have someone as pure as her?
Granted, she probably has her own demons, but there’s no way they can ever compare to mine. It’s a pissing contest that I’m happy for her to lose. Imagine if we were both fucked up? Rising, I walk back over to her and brush a chocolate lock of hair from her face and study her as she sleeps.
God, but she’s fucking gorgeous. So sweet, so innocent, not yet jaded by the world. How did someone like me even manage to score a girl like her? I feel the pressure of the intrusive thoughts as they beat about inside my mind, but I force them away. I fill my mind with only her.
When I go to bed tonight, they’ll probably return, but at this moment, there’s only Shelaine. Even as I touch her, her face moves to nuzzle into my hand, nearly splintering my resolve. As much as I want to, I can’t stay. I have to separate myself so I can get some clarity.
I pick up my knife from off of the bed and lay it on the desk so I can sanitize it later. Reaching further down, I grab the other one and study it for a moment. The handle is smooth, like those old-fashioned butter knives, but the edge is wicked sharp.
As much as I wanted to fuck her with the handle, it’s not an implement I’m familiar with. That’s why I went back to my knife. I know it like I know my own body. It’s an extension of me. I sit it down next to my knife and grab the rag to wipe her down.
I know I said I wouldn’t let my cum go down the drain, but for some reason, it feels wrong to just let her lie in it. Before I clean it up, I lean over to my pants and pull out my phone. After I get the view just right, I snap a picture, grinning as I tuck it back into my pocket. This will definitely be jerk-off material pretty soon.
When she’s in the office, I’ll use that time to coat her in my seed, but I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to make visits like this until after the claiming ceremony. Even now, as she lays here, I want nothing more than to slide deep inside her, claiming her in my own way, without the others watching.
I’ll have to keep my distance if I want to give her the claiming she deserves, the one I promised her. If we’re ever alone again…. God help me, but she’s simply irresistible.
As I clean her up, I take my time, fondling her as I swipe the rag across her pussy. She’s already gotten off once, but what’s the harm in making her come one more time? Dropping the rag, I crawl onto the bed and slide my tongue through her lower lips and groan softly. She tastes even better when she’s dripping with my cum. Easing a finger inside, I rock it back and forth as my tongue flicks across her. Sweet and salty - my favorite dessert, all wrapped up in one decadent package.
Pulling out, I ease two into her tight entrance and freeze for a moment, looking up to see if she’s awake. She’s dead asleep with a soft smile curling her lips. Goosebumps explode over her skin as I slide in just a bit more. The soft moan as her lips part nearly undoes me. The fit is tight as I work my digits inside her, and the urge to pull them back out and use my cock instead beats at my brain.
I’m not hard again yet, but I could make myself get there if I wanted to. Focusing my attention on her clit, I suck the tiny nub in between my lips and smile as her groan reaches my ears. Her body rocks with me in that age-old rhythm as I pump in and out of her, stretching her, preparing for my eventual invasion.
It’s not that I had a problem with her using dildos on herself; it was more about the intimate connection of my fingers deep inside her, linking us together as one. The only way this can be any more connecting is if it were my cock instead of my fingers. Two becoming one.
In those private moments between us, I experiment, twisting my fingers back and forth, rubbing higher up and lower, learning what makes her groan and what makes her writhe. Every girl is different, and if I want any hope of keeping Shelaine, I need to memorize her body, studying it so I can draw out her orgasms and keep them coming.
All too soon, her inner walls begin to flutter about, clenching and releasing around me. She’s close. So very close. Applying a little more suction, I undulate my tongue back and forth in a rapid motion as I thrust just a little harder, just a bit rougher.
With everything I’m learning about Shelaine, what I find most fascinating is how she responds to my roughness. She thrives on it, her body shuddering against me as I push her to that point where everything disappears, and just pleasure remains.
Her soft moans as she orgasms travel along my body, sending a shiver down my spine. Deep inside, her walls clamp down as if they don’t want me to leave. I continue to rock back and forth, riding out the high of her orgasm as I switch to softer licks and kisses.
When she finally settles, I pull out and look up at her. Still fast asleep, but this time, the smile is much bigger, satisfied, satiated. With my own grin, I sit up and slide my fingers into my mouth, groaning as her flavor explodes on my tongue. I can get used to this. It’s a far different feeling knowing that I own her and that no matter what, she’ll never leave me. I won’t fucking let her.
Easing my feet back onto the floor, I stare down at her mostly-naked body and frown at the covers underneath. I don’t want to wake her up, but I don’t want her to get cold either. Resuming my task of wiping her down, I do my best to get all of our combined fluids off before tossing the rag back into the bathroom.
I grip one side of the comforter and drape it over her, then go over to the other side and do the same until she’s a little burrito with just her face poking out. Picking up her phone, I open up her school apps and look through her schedule. Based on this, her day seems to start pretty early. Her first class is at nine, but there’s a note for her to check in with Dean Anderson before starting her day.
If I remember correctly, they have to have everything neat and tidy before they leave, so she’ll need time to do that and take a shower. Pulling up her alarm app, I set it for seven. That should be more than enough time to do everything. As my brain churns with ways to make her next day easier, I pause and look down at the phone in my hand.
When did I become so attentive? I’ve never cared before or bothered to do anything extra with anyone else. She’s making me soft, weak. But even as that familiar tendril of disgust swirls through my gut, I begin to recognize it for what it is.
Just because Ryker would find this weak, it doesn’t mean that it is. I actually care about this girl, and part of me wants the best for her. Granted, not enough to actually leave and let her find a happy ending with someone more worthy of her. But enough to make sure she’s content, safe, and tended to. With a nod, I place it near her head and go back to exploring her room.
A lot can be said about what a person chooses to have out in the open, and for somewhere like Loftry, that’s even more true. They only allow so much, so any piece of personality is a huge thing. Rummaging through her desk drawers, I pull out a small scrapbook and flip through it.
The man with her in all these photos looks like he could be her dad. They pose together, their eyes sparkling and grins wide. It’s easy, comfortable, something I’m unable to relate to.
A pang hits my heart as I slide my finger down the image of her cheek, taking in a shuddering breath as I drown in the happiness she exudes. Her childhood, at least, was good. That is if these pictures are any indication. I wonder what photos of Louis and I would have looked like?