Page 75 of Shattered Veil

A noise from the bathroom draws my attention and I tiptoe that way. A door separates the toilet from the vanity and shower.

Running water stills me. He’s in the shower. God, his body is amazing. I know I shouldn’t do this, but I push the door open slightly. A voice muffled behind the glass catches my attention.

“God, yeah. Take my cock,” he groans.

Oh shit...

I know he’s in there alone. That means he’s pleasuring himself. My core clenches, remembering his cock. Long and thick. Veiny but beautiful with a wide pillowy head that’s perfect.

“Let me fuck your ass, it’ll feel so fucking good...”

I close my eyes and my heart pounds. He did that to me in the shower.

Oh my God, is he imagining me?

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Balor

“God, yeah. Take my cock.” I close my soapy fist around my throbbing dick, imagining I’m thrusting into Ella.

Christ, she took me so good in that L.A. hotel suite. Again, and again.

I wanted you.

I liked you.

I may have paid her, but she spread those legs out of pure desire for me.

Which meant all those fucking moans were real.

With my hand on the tile wall to steady me, I pump harder than usual, needing release. “Let me fuck your ass, it’ll feel so fucking good...”

No fucking teasing where this is going, like when my hand finds my swollen cock in the middle of the night and I just tell myself, one stroke to take the edge off.

I’m so wound up after she wakes me up, I can’t get into this shower quick enough to relieve the ache of my constant fucking erection. The morning she passed out after I knew she was all right, I showered and came all over the glass twice.

That minx has my mind by the balls. And in the gutter every hour I’m awake. Which is why I started taking pills to help me sleep.

I can’t fucking take it.

I’m full-on fucking my hand when movement catches the corner of my eye. My bathroom door is open when I’m sure I closed it.

Out of respect, since I gave Ella full reign of my house.

It’s her, I see the outline of her body. Jesus, she’s watching me. The glass is clear but the steam and the rivulets of water make for a very erotic show of me jerkingoff.

I should shout for her to leave. I should turn around. But damn it, I don’t want to. It’s been torture to keep my hands to myself, to hide what she’s doing to me.

Fuck, why is she watching me? That takes balls.

And damn, that gets me even harder.

Testing her, I keep going, full frontal.

I stroke the underside, massaging the fire traveling up my cock that will end in a deluge of cum. I feel it. I fucking feel it.

I struggle to see what she’s wearing. Is it one of those new outfits I bought her? Has she finally accepted that I want to take care of her?