Get him

Clyde's POV

The sound of my name from her mouth gives me chills, sounding much better and less sinister than people present it to be.

The more I dig in and out, the more I lose my sense of responsibility. She makes it easy to fuck her; I see the need in her eyes—it’s not mere lust for her; it's deep with genuine intentions.

Another reason why I can't hurt her.

I'm grunting, sweat dripping from my face, landing on her wobbly, sexy boobs that drive me crazy.

I'm nearing my peak, and with the way that she's moaning out, she's close too.

I fuck her like I can't have enough, and coming feels like an endgame for me. I wish I could stay longer than we already have.

I feel the rush, my thoughts are paused and empty, and all I can think about is her and nothing else.

Her hand wraps around my neck as her misms intensifies, not minding whether we make so much noise or not. I love this wild side of her for sex; it makes everything hotter.

Her sweaty skin glistening, her bun gently loosening.

She squirms, her legs tightly wrapped around me as we come at once, my body twitching as I let out a satisfied grunt, my eyes shut slowly.

We take a moment to recuperate while I hold her face, and we share a deep, passionate kiss that lingers.

Shit, I came in her. I'm not sure if she's on the pill either. Stupid me, dumbass.

I couldn't even ask or get cautious, losing my mind over her, and it's completely worth it—losing my mind.

I pull gently, her familiar warmth leaving my dick as the chill breeze caresses my dick.

She gives a small, shy smile, dragging up her straps and ticking her boobs properly.

I buckle up; I would need to shower after now. I haven't had good sex in a long time. It's phenomenal, but it gets me thinking so much that I start to wonder if I'm actually good for her.

Like, I'm a bad guy, I'm way older than she is, and I'm not the ideal dream man either. I'm just a chaotic man with issues that leave me fighting for my life every fucking day I wake up.

“I-” she pauses, and I'm curious to know what she's about to say.

Did she regret it? Is she thinking the same thing?

Fuck, I started all of these, seducing her into sex with me even after what she told me last night. I couldn't stop myself from having sex with her.

It makes a true monster.

I held her down as she straightened her dress, her eyes bright.

“I don't know what to say,” she finally musters the courage to say to me.

My views squeeze questionably. “You didn't… like it?” I ask.

“No, I did. I orgasmed, and I haven't done that in god knows how long.” She says with a smile, and I'm a bit relieved because her eyes say something more. “I don't know what this means. I mean… it was great, and I'm deeply rooted in this, and…” She paused, struggling to find the right words. I don't need her to find the appropriate words; I just need her to tell me her mind. It's making me goddamn nervous.

“Like, should we be doing this? It's not professional,” she says, and I understand her point. At least she isn't regretting it, thinking that I took advantage of her situation.

“I agree; I understand too. But…” I stop and take her hand in mine. “We both can't deny that there's something between us, Raven, there is,” I tell her, and I mean every word, the back of my hand slowly tracing her face.

She swallows hard, and I take off my hand when I remember that she's supposed to talk to her mother.

“I should get Tommy to put a call across to your mother, like I promised,” I chime in, walking around the table to my seat.

She nods thankfully and the look in her eyes just makes it look like I had sex with her in return to set up the phone call.

Fuck, I just feel awful, and it just troubles me even if I've always wanted to do this with her. exactly is the matter with me today? I ask myself.

“Thank you… sir!” she says, walking to the door. Finally she leaves.

I wonder, I just wonder if she feels like shit.

I expected the end of the part to be magnificent and sweet, but it grew awkward, and it's my fault, I know.

I slump on the chair, sighing out with frustration. Holding either side of my head, I can feel my eyes aching instantly, something feeling off somehow.

I asked Dimitri to find the man that raped her earlier, and he said that it wasn't possible and wasn't necessary. I know Dimitri; he gets jobs done without casualty. He's good at what he does without reading a fucking script, but then, he didn't seem enthusiastic about my request earlier.

Why?

I don't understand what's amiss.

I couldn't function properly today because of what Raven had told me. I feel pity for her; she didn't deserve it, and the monster would pay.

But whenever I mention the word ‘monster,’ it reminds me that I'm one. I’ve done bad stuff, stuff I shouldn't have, but I did, and it makes me a straight-up monster.

It was good that Raven was here; she eased off my stress without trying. I couldn't have enough of her, enjoying every bit of it, but I still feel like it was rushed.

Maybe I shouldn't have kissed her.

While I think about our sex, my dick twitches, responding to every touch that I remember.

I grab my phone, and I order some really rare, pretty flowers, chocolates, and then a morning-after pill.

Whatever it is, she deserves to be treated with love and respect. That, I can't pretend about.

After I'm done placing orders, a call comes in. It's Dimitri. I hope he has good news for me.

I answer, pressing the phone against my ear.

“Speak, Dimitri,” I demand, my voice firm.

“We caught Francisco; shall I bring him over?” He says, and a smile spreads across my lips.

I know Dimitri; he's repeatedly the man for the job.

“Sure. He's going to die and I'll make it hurt!” I say to him and hang up.