Nown 22

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Chapter 22 

Because I was a man, not a monk. And that view was fucking biblical. 

I swear it wasn’t guilt making my throat tighten and my pulse throb in places I didn’t need it to. 

It was the fact that she looked too good to ruin. 

But… Wait… For a stupid, stupid second… something about the way she moved pulled at something in my brain. 

It felt familiar. It felt like I’d seen those exact curves before. Something about her body made my 

blood heat faster than it should’ve. But I couldn’t quite place it. If it were yesterday, or a few days 

ago, I would have sworn she was the girl from The Vanity. 

But, nah. That girl had been found and was just a few hours away from properly coming into my life. 

But, fuck me if I said Eve’s body didn’t look like a seductress. And fuck me harder if I say I wasn’t fucking seduced. 

She moved like sin. Pure, high–end, luxury sin. And me? I was ready to buy the whole damn package. 

She turned a little, and I caught a flash of her side boob – round, and perky, with nipples so tight 

from the chill or the thrill, I don’t know. I just knew my cock responded before my brain even caught 

1. up. 

And don’t even get me started on how hard those tits were. They were just the right size to slap 

against her chest when she rides you with her hands on your shoulders, eyes half–closed and mouth 

open. 

I wanted them in my mouth. On my face. On my chest. Anywhere they could leave a goddamn mark. 

My imagination didn’t ask for permission. It ran wild. 

I imagined her lips wrapped around my cock with her eyes locked on mine the whole time… Me, 

gripping her jaw while she choked on me like she owed me air. 

Fuck. 

I was just a second away from yaking her closer to myself just so that I’d squeeze those boobs of hers to see exectly how if feels. Would her rosy nipples react to my touch? 

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Chapter 22 

Fuck. I wanted to find out so bad. 

She bent over, slightly touched her toes, and swayed her hips before standing to her feet again, and I 

almost lost it. 

God. Fucking. Damn. 

I had to bite my own tongue not to groan. 

I was moved to bend her over again and hold her there for a bit longer, just to see if her ass lined up perfectly with my cock. Maybe just test the theory. Hands on her waist. Pull her closer… Just a curiosity check. 

I just wanted to experiment. Nothing more. 

And when she bent again, her legs slightly apart, her pussy peeked at me like it knew it had me by the throat. 

Soft. Pink. Dripping innocence. 

Fuck. Me. 

I clenched my fists but couldn’t look away. 

I felt my cock come alive so painfully. 

I imagined her bent over that vanity table over there, begging and squirming, with her legs shaking while I pounded her from behind, watching her melt into the mirror… 

Fuck. No. Stop. 

But my brain didn’t stop. My brain was on fire. 

Would she moan? Whimper? Bite her own hand just to stay quiet? 

Would she try to hold herself up, or collapse under the force of my thrusts? 

Would her pussy clamp down when I called her name? Or when I gripped her hips and slammed her into place? 

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. 

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Why the fuck did she have way too much effect on me? That was so unlike me. 

She was Saint’s stepsister. So, she was off–limits. 

And, I felt like I was already cheating on Jessa, even before I properly made her mine. And I wouldn’t want that. I wanted to stay faithful to Jessa, at least, for the time being. 

So, I’d just turn around, close the door behind me, and come back in another thirty minutes. That should be enough for her to get down from her high horse. 

By then, she’d be dressed. 

And maybe, just maybe, I’d remember who the fuck I was supposed to be loyal to. 

But the image was already burned into my skull and into my bloodstream. 

This wasn’t just desire. This was something deeper. 

And it scared the fuck out of me. 

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