Page 53 of Pretty Thing

Who goes to the house of someone grieving and leaves this kind of a mess behind? People are such pigs.

Once everything is back in order, I make my way up the stairs to Eden’s room, careful to avoid the creaky ones.

Eden is still in her dress, sound asleep on top of the blankets, shivering. Grabbing the throw off the end of her bed, I gently drape it over her and then move the piece of hair on her cheek away so I can see her properly.

Pulling out the small sketchbook inside my jacket, I begin to draw my perfect little muse. I don’t miss a single detail as my pencil scrapes softly over the paper. She is perfection. I ensure that not a single eyelash is out of place before returning the book to my jacket.

Kneeling by the bed, I tuck the blanket up under her chin. Eden murmurs in her sleep, making my blood pound.

“Don’t worry, Pretty Thing, they won’t come between us. You’re safe with me. You’re mine.”

“Felix,” she sighs.

“That’s right. It’s me.”

Every violent, starving part of me wants to crawl into that bed beside her and never leave. We could’ve had a beautiful moment tonight. She could’ve leaned on me, as I welcomed her into my arms and wiped away the sadness and pain. But now, it will have to wait.

I scribble a quick sticky note for her and put it on her nightstand. Leaving her night light on, I go from room to room checking that all the windows and doors are locked before I let myself out. Taking off the booties, I walk to my car, my heart heavy, my mind in chaos, and my cock hard. A volatile combination.

By the time I push through the door to my studio apartment, it feels like every part of me is on fire with rage. Want is dangerous when it has nowhere safe to go.

Leaving the lights off, I head into the kitchen to grab a beer before making my way to my home office. Carefully hidden behind a locked door in my closet, one can never be too safe when it comes to protecting your most valuable possession. Inside, I take a deep breath as I’m surrounded by everything Eden.

I pull out my sketchpad and rip out the newest addition to my collection, then pin it to the wall with all the others. I caress the sketch before I sit down and power up the computer. The screens glow as they come to life.

Eden is still fast asleep, taking up all three monitors for the moment. Even unconscious, she reaches for the other side of the bed like she expects me to be beside her. I should be beside her.

With a few clicks of the keys, a video of Eden in the shower from a few weeks ago takes center stage. I lean back slowly in my chair, beer hanging loose between my fingers. The footage is a little fogged over from the steam. It’s almost dreamlike.

Water beads on her smooth skin as she stands beneath the spray with her eyes closed. So trusting as she runs her hands over her hair, soaking it thoroughly. I shift in my seat and palm my cock through my jeans.

Jesus. So…beautiful.

This recording violates that trust. The thought comes and goes without weight or guilt. Because even now, staring at the screens, I know I’ll do it again and worse to make sure she is safe.

Eden grabs her body wash and pours some into her hands. The sudsy lather runs down her arms, and I picture something far more intimate than soap coating her skin.

Taking a sip of my beer, I set it aside and release the button on my jeans. I groan as my aching cock is given a bit more room.

Eden’s wet hair clings to her pale skin as she runs her hands all over her body. She looks up at the camera, eyes locking with mine like she knows I can see her. My heart pounds like a drum in my chest. The suds slip over her breasts, and her nipples draw into hard peaks.

Fuck, this room is too hot.

I scrub a hand down my face and exhale hard, but it does nothing to settle the pressure building beneath my ribs. Peeling off my hoodie, I toss it aside before getting comfortable again.

I can still remember exactly how she looked at me when she let me help her in the shower. The longing in her eyes, laced with embarrassment. She has nothing to be embarrassed about, but she still allowed me to take care of her. That moment of surrender reaffirmed everything I believe. We belong together.

I lower the zipper on my jeans as her hand travels down her stomach. Does she even notice how soft her skin is?

My hand wraps around my shaft, my head falls back, and my eyes flutter closed for a moment. The thrill of being close to her is excruciating when I long to be buried between her thighs. I’ll claim my Pretty Thing and never let her go.

Soon, she will reach for me, trust me, and need me the way that I need her. Our connection grows stronger every second we’re together.

She bends over, washing her legs. When her hand slips between her thighs, I squeeze my cock harder. The bars of my ladder press almost painfully as the head turns red, throbbing around the silver ring of my Prince Albert. Releasing my grip, I sigh and rub my excitement all over the tip.

But tonight…tonight she asked for space. My jaw tightens instantly at the memory. Fucking Kris. Fucking Kyle. That asshole likes her. He wants her. I know he does. That’s why they drip poison into her ears about me, but I won’t let them ruin us.

They see Eden healing around me, and it scares them because those people will never understand our connection. It’s special. They think attachment is unhealthy because they’ve never experienced something powerful enough to consume them whole. They’re greedy and want her for themselves, but too fucking bad…Eden is mine.