I reach into my pants and pull out my cock. I usually refrain from doing this while I watch her sleep, but tonight I fucking need it. I need her. Standing at the foot of her bed, my eyes glued to her sleeping form, I tug at my cock a few times.
She’s so innocent, so fucking vulnerable.
Her lips part slightly, and I imagine sliding my cock between them. Can almost envision what her wet little mouth would feel like sucking me in. I pull harder, faster, as I picture her choking, her tear-stained cheeks, her fear as I ram my cock so far down her throat she can’t do anything but silently plead for me to let her breathe again.
“Fuck!” I hiss under my breath.
I reach out with my other hand and gently pull the blankets down, just a little, enough to reveal the curves of her breasts as they fall free from the confines of her bedsheets. Her rosy-pink nipples are hard, and my mouth waters at the idea of wrapping around them. I can imagine licking, biting, sucking. I want to yank the blankets down farther. I want a better look. To get a glimpse of more of her. I don’t do that though.
You see? I have some restraint.
Instead, I walk around to the side of her bed and pick up the pale-blue silk bra she discarded. I wrap the soft fabric around my cock as I continue to pump myself. When she lets out a little moan, a gasp, I come hard. All over her bra. Fuck. Then I tilt my head and look at her.
What the fuck is she dreaming about? Or, better yet, who the fuck is she dreaming about? Because, whoever they are, they’re fucking dead.
I zip up my jeans and shove her bra into my pocket. It’s not the first I’ve stolen from her. Reaching down, I tug the blankets over her chest, lean forward, and inhale the scent of her hair. Fucking vanilla. Always vanilla.
My lips burn to touch her skin, so I pull away before I can’t stop myself. I straighten my spine, turn around, and walk out, switching her light off as I go before I make my way to the staff elevator I use to get up here. It’s funny how it’s also the one place she never checks.
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” Uncle Bray asks the moment he walks into the office of his gym.
“What are you doing here? I live in Melbourne. You don’t,” I fire back.
“Don’t be a smart-ass. It’s not a good look on you, Dominic. Why are you in my office?” He crosses his arms over his chest and glares at me.
“Watching shit,” I tell him, my eyes glued to the wall of monitors until I hone in on one specific room. The one she presently occupies.
I shouldn’t get so much enjoyment out of the fact she’s joined a self-defence class because she’s scared. More accurately, because she’s scared of me. I’ve driven that fear. I see it in her eyes every time she can’t help but look over her shoulder. She knows I’m watching. Even now, she peers up. Right at the camera. Right at me.
“Who is she?” Uncle Bray presses.
“I have no idea who or what you’re talking about.” I shrug.
“Yeah, okay, let’s go with that. However, if that girl ends up on page five listed as a missing person, don’t think I won’t be asking you questions,” he says, half joking, half not.
“When have I ever given you the impression I’m some sort of psychopath?” I counter.
“Every day since you were one,” he deadpans. “It’s not your fault though. You just happened to inherit more of those fucking McKinley genes than is good for any one person to have.” He laughs.
That’s not entirely true. My obsession with pain, that one I got from my Williamson side. Specifically, my mother. She’s struggled with self-harm throughout her adult life. She’s mostly fine. My dad hovers over her so much I don’t think she gets the chance to piss without him knowing about it. Probably watching too. Not that Mum ever complains. It’s gross really. How much they like each other. Come to think of it, all the olds in my family are sickeningly happy with their wives. Even most of my cousins are married off and living their best lives. Two of them to each other.
Now tell me that’s not fucking weird.
Ash and Bree, they’re not blood-related of course. Bree’s from the McKinley side, whereas Ash is the oldest Williamson cousin. It was fucking hard not to slit his throat when he started dating Bree. She’s my favourite out of all my cousins. She’s also the only one who gets me. The real me. She gets it because she was also born a McKinley—which on any given day is both a blessing and a curse. We’re each set to inherit fifty percent of the family’s wealth, including all of the businesses listed under the corporation.
It’s why I’m working on a business degree. Bree and I will be running McKinley Industries together one day. Hopefully not anytime soon. I’d like to have somewhat of a life before I get stuck sitting in an office, behind a bloody desk, wearing a suit all fucking day long.
Ignoring Uncle Bray, I continue to watch the screen. The instructor walks up behind Lucy and his eyes go straight to her ass. Eyes that I’m going to gouge out of his fucking head before I toss them around like a fucking pinball machine at a gaming arcade.
Do not touch her. I chant it in my head, over and over again, even as his hands reach out and land on her hips as she’s bending over to stretch.
“Who the fuck is this fuckwit?” I question my uncle as I push to my feet and throw an arm towards the monitor. Before I know I’m moving, I’m already pacing the room. I can’t go and cut his hands off in front of a class full of people. No, I’m gonna have to wait for that little indulgence.
“Dom, calm the fuck down. Sit.” Uncle Bray blocks the doorway, like he can prevent me from leaving this office if I want out.
“I am calm,” I deadpan. “Never been fucking calmer.”
“Yeah, sure. Who is she and why are you getting all Josh-like on me?” he says.
“Josh-like?” I parrot. Josh is my uncle on my dad’s side.
“All murdery-eyed. Your uncle always fucking has that look. It’s creepy as fuck on him. On you, it’s just plain fucking terrifying. Do not make me have to bail your ass out of jail,” he tells me in that parental tone he gets sometimes.
“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t call you to bail me out anyway. I always have Uncle Zac.” I smirk. My Uncle Zac is my Uncle Bray’s older brother.
“Good, he’s the one with all the practice. My girls are fucking angels, never had to bail them out of anything.” He smiles.
“Didn’t Lily and Hope get arrested for hitting a cop that one time?” I ask with a lift of my brow.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Uncle Bray throws my words back at me, with a voice that would suggest he actually believes his own lie. I swear those girls could literally serve him up human flesh for dinner and the man wouldn’t bat an eyelash. His daughters can do no wrong.
“Right. Well, I’ve got things to do, people to maim.” I sigh, my eyes flicking back to the screen. I can see Lucy walking out the door.
“Dominic, I know your parents taught you better than to follow around some poor girl without her knowledge. It’s called stalking. If you like her, try talking to her.”
“I’m not fucking stalking anyone. Jesus, give me some credit.” I feign hurt. I’ve learnt to cover up my lack of emotions with humour over the years. It’s easier than having everyone look at me and wonder when I’m finally going to snap.
The thing is… I snapped a long time ago. No one other than Bree and Uncle Josh know the truth about me, because they’re the only ones who understand this urge I have to hurt others. However, I only ever take it out on people who deserve it. Just like this fucker who doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself. I could help him with that. Shouldn’t be an issue if he doesn’t have hands in the first place.
“Dom, if that employee of mine doesn’t show up for work tomorrow, you’re going to be filling his slots.”
“Yeah, okay, because you’d want me teaching your little self-defence classes.”
“I can think of no better punishment than to force you to teach the object of your obsession how to protect herself against… you,” he replies with a stupid grin on his face.
He doesn’t know how close to home he’s hitting.
Walking out, I head to the car park where I wait in my Bentley for my busy little bee to exit the building before I start up the engine and follow her onto the main road. I’ll be back for that fuckwit. In fact, the more I think about it, the better Uncle Bray’s idea sounds. If I were her instructor, it’d give me an excuse to touch her. To get close to her. In a public setting. Where I have no choice but to control myself.
Do I want her to know of my existence yet? I’m not sure it’s even an option. Unless I resort to amputating every one of my uncle’s male staff members, so no one can touch her, I’m going to have to teach her myself.
I follow her back to her apartment, turning onto a side street as she drives into the undercover garage. Then I pick up my laptop and pull the camera feed. Watching her daily fear-driven routine amuses me. The terror I feel radiating off her from the screen makes my cock rock-fucking-hard.
True to form, she enters her apartment and heads left. She opens every door, every closet, every kitchen cabinet before she shakes her head. Unfortunately, I can’t hear what she’s saying. However, I do know that she hates being scared. That much is evident in her visible frustration. There’s the smallest twinge of guilt in the pit of my stomach—at least I think it’s guilt. I’m not sure what else it could be, but I feel a little bad for scaring her. At the same time, I can’t fucking wait until the sounds of her screams fill my ears as I claim her.
Soon. Our time is coming soon. I can feel it in my bones.
I grab my phone from the centre console, find a florist, and order her a bunch of blue tulips. It’s the same flower I had tattooed on my chest when I first met her. A bleeding tulip that curves around my right pec.
My phone rings through the speakers of the car, pulling me from my thoughts as Ash’s name lights up the screen.
“Yeah?” I say in way of greeting.
“Where are you?” he asks me.
“Why?” My first thought is Bree. I swear to all that is holy, if this fucker let anything happen to her, it won’t be her parents he’ll have to worry about. Because I’ll beat my aunt and uncle to the fucking punch.
“I need you to stop by the club tonight. I have to fly back to Sydney, but your fucking cousin is being stubborn and won’t come home with me until she finishes whatever business she has here.”
“Which cousin? Because I only have one who’s not a complete asshole.” I smile.
“You know that puts me in a shitty fucking predicament, right? Because on one hand, I’m hoping it’s me. But on the other, if you’re calling Breanna an asshole, I’m gonna have to wring your dweeby little fucking neck, and that’d make Aunt Ella cry, and I really don’t want to upset her.”
“Like you could. I’ll be right there. On that note, why is Bree hanging out at Unhinged? Doesn’t she have better places to go?” In actuality, my cousin’s club is really high-end. But I take every opportunity I can to fuck with him.
“She says she likes spending her time at a place that was named in honour of her family,” he fires back.
“By the way, you do know you’re my least favourite cousin, out of all of ʼem. You, I wouldn’t miss,” I tell him.
“Just get your ass here. I have a flight to catch in an hour and I’m not leaving her alone. This city is full of fucking creeps.” He sighs into the receiver.
Ash has always preferred Sydney over Melbourne. I came here for school because it’s where my mum went. She said she loved it, and I wanted to escape the family for a bit. That plan hasn’t gone the way I’d hoped it would, seeing as they all keep fucking showing up every other week anyway.
