Page 5 of Possessive Mechanic
“You’ve got some talking to do all right. But first, to me.”
Closing the distance between us my cock presses so hard against my Dickies that I’m afraid my dick is going to puncture the extremely resistant material.
Half of me is saying to throw her out of her, not to get involved. But I’d never put a woman in a dangerous situation like that. She wouldn’t last a second with those wolves out there.
And that goes double with each passing second she spends with the lion inside here. Me.
She’s turning me into a fucking beast. I want to push her against my workbench and stick my painfully erect rod so deep inside her she never even has the thought of another man again. My muscles twitch and my body goes hot.
I need her addicted to this cock, begging me for it every morning, noon, and night.
Just the thought of another man wanting her, trying to get in her pants before I do, pisses me the fuck off. I would beat another man with a fucking tire iron if he tried to take what belongs to me.
And the longer I stare at her that one thing becomes more and more clear, set in stone.
She will be mine.
My breathing kicks up another gear as I watch her chest rise and fall with the speed of a hummingbird’s.
“About what?” she asks. “I already told you everything.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“I don’t know. You should,” she responds with those big blue eyes that threaten my judgment.
“And you should tell me if there’s some other man in your life.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
My muscles start shaking violently and she pulls back in her seat, almost becoming one with the chair.
“That fucking has to do with everything.” I pause. “Now tell me. You have some little shithead boy trying to get in your pants, or some man after you?” I stab a finger at her as she looks up at me, clearly scared, and for some reason, it only turns me on more.
Does she know I’d never do anything to harm her, nor allow it from someone else?
Does she also know how much harm she’s doing to me, my balls locked and loaded just dying to explode inside her, fill her with my seed and make her mine forever?
I must look like a demon, a man possessed standing over her like this. And as I bring my hand in the air, my index finger still pointing at her, and slowly move my hand down and forward, my body moves on autopilot as I wrap my hand around her throat, the tiny swanlike thing being engulfed by my big fingers.
My thumb traces her windpipe, showing just how fragile she is.
She swallows so hard I can hear it, her pulse throttling against the side of her neck.
And here I thought I was dead inside, being trapped inside those three concrete walls and a row of bars does that to a man. But then she comes along and shows me what it’s like to be alive once again.
“What kind of trick is this? What kind of trap are you trying to set for me?” I try to get the answer out of her yet again.
“None. I swear.”
“You’re not here to get me locked up again?”
“Locked up?”
“Prison. You know what I’m talking about. Don’t pretend you don’t.” I lean in, her face inches from mine.
“I have no clue who you are. I swear.”
“But your dad does. He must have sent you.”