Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 106003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 530(@200wpm)___ 424(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
As I tiptoe into the hallway, tempted by the quiet that settled over the cabin, I keep stalling, plagued by the worry that maybe he doesn’t really want this, that this is just his way of being grateful for saving him earlier. But each time I’m choked by such worries, I remind myself Angel’s free to do as he pleases. He was the one to invite me here in the first place, and if he is actually waiting for my move, I can’t allow myself to disappoint him.
I can’t forget the way he touched me in the shower, delicate hands sliding over my skin as if he found no fault at all with my scars nor my sinful, awkwardly shaped body.
So maybe…
Maybe even a monster like me can find someone willing to let me watch him. Touch him. Come on his skin.
I squeeze my cock, pressing my back to the wall in the hallway. Still naked, I feel every movement of the air. I now wonder whether Angel went to sleep naked as he was, or if he put on some clothes.
Oh, how I want him to have put on clothes. I want to press my face into the fabric and slide it off to reach his pristine skin.
I stalk down the short corridor to find the bedroom dark, but its door is open in invitation. I slide the towel to the floor and make my way inside, closing in on my treasure. I’m so excited I could probably go twice. There’s an intimacy to this that overwhelms me. It wouldn’t have felt like this if he wasn’t a willing participant.
This is me showing him a side of me no one else knows.
The curtain is open, so I see him in the faint moonlight, and he truly is an angel, a ray of sunshine even at night. At first, I wonder whether he’s excited that he doesn’t know when I’ll approach, just lying there pliantly, but then the darker fantasy takes over, one in which he’s asleep and vulnerable in front of me, the man invading a space where he thinks he’s safe.
My family made me the monster I am, but I put on that wolf skin and found comfort under it.
I am soundless, taking slow yet long paces and transferring my weight as I move. The soft glow coming in through the window creates a backlight to his profile, and I can’t help but focus on his straight nose, the full lips designed for pouting and offering me kind words. I can already hear him breathe, and while the movement of his chest is slow, I won’t be fooled that he’s really asleep. Each inhale sounds far too deep and deliberate. He’s playing pretend and waiting for my touch.
The comforter reveals half of his chest clad in a blue T-shirt, and I feel myself salivating, a fox about to break the neck of a chicken sleeping inside its coop. I’ve crept like this before, watching handsome men sleep, and listening to their breathing, but this is the first time I’m doing it with the intention of acting on my fantasies. And as he whines, stretching in his fake sleep, my balls throb with the excitement of it.
He is not only letting me touch him, he wants me to.
Shame licks the edges of my mind, but I won't back away now. Just as when I landed the murderous blow to my aunt's head, I've gone too far to stop, and I crave it too much.
I scoot by the bed, leaning close to smell his tan skin. We share an aroma after the shower. Pine and some berry. With him, even the shower was bearable. He was patient with me, didn’t laugh, didn’t call me a freak or roll his eyes.
I’m twitchy with the need to touch him, but I’m not sure where to start unwrapping my present. So many options, so many ways to defile his sweet body, and all at my fingertips.
Even though he’s waiting, a part of me still worries touching him will fuck things up. That he’ll decide he’s not into it after all, and I’ll have to bear it, no matter how bitter a pill it would be to swallow. I could stay like this for hours, watching him, and sinking deep into my filthy fantasies.
I’ve gotten the green light though, and I won’t be wasting it. If I can kill, I can surely touch a boy I like.
With my heart in my throat, I gently tug on the comforter, as if the faintest touch could wake him. I’m here to steal from this sleeping beauty, because that’s the only way someone so undeserving can touch an angel like him.
Now I can see he’s wearing loose cotton shorts too, but their cut can’t hide his very obvious erection.