Stop It You're Scaring Him นิยาย & เรื่องราว

he asked. "Not mean but scary. Your scary look drives people away. it makes them not talk to you because they are scared you may end up yelling." I explained and he laughed. "Is that what you want? you want me to wipe the scary look off my face?" He asked, "Yes,"I declared.

he asked, and my head reared back. “What do you mean why have I stopped? Have you been listening to me at all?” I asked, and he pinched the bridge of his nose before scanning our surroundings. “Look, I will answer your questions—but not right now. It is not safe here,” he said, and that was when I caught the worry in his eyes as he frantically looked around. He was scared. A sigh left my lips. “I understand that I’ve asked a lot from you tonight, and I understand that you’re scared. I am scared too, but you can’t just treat me like—”

"Come on, let me touch you." "Heaven...." He sounds frustrated and anxious. "Maybe you will feel better if I took my clothes off." I start to unbutton my shirt but he stops me. He literally shakes me. "You are not okay. You are acting really strange and it's starting to scare me." I step back from him. "I didn't mean to scare you." I tell him sincerely.

I will kill all of them! First, I need to go and train my voice. To sound better. For her. To not scare her. So I backed away, toward the door, slowly. And she watched. I could still smell her fear. She feared me. I hated it. How could I stop making her fear? How??

His breathing went ragged when I bit his lower lip. “God,” he muttered. “You’re trying to kill me.” “Good way to go,” I managed. He laughed, the sound vibrating against my skin. Then he pulled back, breathing hard. “We should stop,” he said. “Why?” “Because you’re scared and vulnerable, and I won’t take advantage of that.” “What if I want you to take advantage?”

I stayed exactly where I was because I refused — absolutely refused — to be the one who stepped back. He stopped when there was less than a foot between us and looked at me with a satisfied look in his eyes. "You're doing that thing," he said. "What thing?” "The one where you go completely still when you're scared." Big fucking joke. Scared? Of him? Never in this life and the next. The laugh that came out of me was sharp and humorless. "I'm not scared of you, Voss." "I didn't say you were scared of me." Huh?

This is why you shouldn't always get what you want, "Spread your legs wider for me." Shit. "I don't want you to fuck me for real," I warn quietly, but of course I still obey. "Shut up. I didn't ask," he grunts and continues masturbating, even faster now that he's looking at my pussy. He comes a step closer to me, and although I am affected by the arousal in his scent, I get scared. I know I played it cool before, but I've only slept with one guy and he was definitely hot, but he wasn't THIS hot and he wasn't this intimidating. And he didn't hate me, "Stop being so scared. I understand. I'm not going to fuck you."

He pushes me back against the wall, his body pressed close, his need raw and messy. But this isn’t love. It’s fear. “Damien, stop.” He doesn’t hear me. His mouth trails down my neck, hands roaming desperately. “Damien, STOP!” I shove him back, tears stinging my eyes. My voice cracks. “You’re scaring me. One minute you’re crying, the next you’re I don’t even know what’s happening anymore.” I stumble out, strip off my wet clothes, and collapse into bed in just my underwear. His scent clings to the pillow.

Cold, stormy rage carved into stone. I let out a shaky laugh, standing and brushing imaginary dust off my jeans. “Wow. Okay. Guess you’re not in the mood for old memories. Bad day?” He took a step forward. I instinctively stepped back. He copied me. Like a mirror. I stopped. “Okay… this is creepy. I said I’m sorry for bumping into you, I wasn’t looking. Can you stop now? You’re scaring me.” He didn’t blink. Didn’t speak.

‌ My hands came up t‌o grip​ his sh‍i‌rt. Then somethin⁠g changed.​ I‍ felt it. A spike of panic c​utting through the desire‌. My whole body went rigid.⁠ I pulled ba‌ck. Gasping. "I can't—I need—" "Breathe." His hands framed my face.⁠ "Just brea​the." ​ "I'm sorry, I don't know w‍hy" "You're scared. It's‍ okay to‌ b​e scar​e‌d." H​is fore⁠he​ad pressed against‌ mine.⁠ "We can sto‍p."‍