Obsession by Lena Little

5

Carlito

My very own Sleeping Beauty. I hover over the bed, just watching her sleep. Having her here where she belongs, by my side, makes me whole. She’s the piece of the puzzle that’s needed to make me feel complete. Screw that, she’s the whole damn entire puzzle itself…not a single fucking piece. She is it because she is everything.

I’ve never had anyone inspire me to be a better man…until now. Now I need to be the kind of man that not only deserves to be admired by my angel, but also by our future children. I need to be a role model for our kids, someone they respect not just because I tell them to, or demand it from them, but because they do it on their own accord because they admire me and the example I set.

These thoughts are so new but so vivid. The split second she walked, or technically ran, into my life it was like the world was suddenly bright with color after being in black and white my entire existence…and not even knowing it.

I thought I had it all…money, power, a big house, only to realize I had nothing because I didn’t have her, my other half to share it all with.

She can never leave me. I can’t allow it. I take in a deep breath and watch her there all sprawled out, face down on the pillow completely unaware of what she’s done to me, and likely unknowing that this is her home now. This custom bed that’s long enough to fit my height and wider than a California King still won’t be big enough when it comes to all the time we’re going to spend together in it. I’ll get a new one so we can spend days in it. So I can fill her with my seed until there’s no question she’s bred.

Once she’s pregnant with our first she’ll have no choice but to be around me. Always. I’m ready to learn so much about her and find out why she’s in my country and what she’s running from if anything. And once I find out I’ll laugh at the stupidity of every other man who wasn’t smart enough to lock her down before me, but I’ll also offer a thank you to all those men blind to perfection for giving me a chance at the greatest gift. Regardless, I will get to the bottom of this mystery and punish those who need to learn a lesson about how to treat a woman and never make her feel threatened, nervous, or scared, let alone actually laying a finger on a woman. And if I found out someone did…

I take a step back from her, my hands forming fists as my nostrils flare. God help them because I sure as hell won’t. I won’t have a second thought about ending them.

Looking over at her backpack on the nightstand I want to get started unraveling this riddle. I want to know what things she has and why, but I need to respect her privacy. Once she’s awake I’ll have the bag washed, or better yet replaced with a new backpack of any brand of her choosing. Prada, Fendi, Gucci…it doesn’t matter. I’ll shut down the entire damn store so she alone can shop for the exact one she wants, all of the store clerks giving her and her alone their undivided attention.

As she rolls over in bed the covers move from her body and barely keep her midsection covered. As much as I want to find out more of what she’s like as a person, I need to find out what she’s like down there. Is she as innocent as she looks? Can any girl make it eighteen years in this day and age, in the time of social media and hookup apps, without being touched…there?

I move closer to the bed, waving my hand above the part of the blanket directly above her pussy, careful not to touch what she hasn’t given me permission to…yet. No matter how badly I want to take it, right here and now, I can’t.

Almost as if on cue, as if she’s teasing me, she tucks a hand underneath the blanket and into her panties and moves her digits one time in a circular motion. My mouth hits the floor as a chill runs up and then down my body. Are we on the same wavelength?

I reach over to the nightstand, around her backpack, and carefully lift her glass of water without making a sound, without disturbing her. Raising it up just inches in front of my face, I turn it, catching her lip marks in the soft moonlight from the window which also puts this angelic, soft glow on her skin.

Lining my mouth up with her lip marks I sip from the same glass, ecstatic that our mouths have been in the same place. And soon that same will be together when I claim her lips for the first time.

Placing the glass back down I wrestle with how I’m going to keeping the beast that she’s awoken inside of me on a leash…a leash which is currently being tugged on so hard it’s damn near about to snap. Soon enough she’ll meet that other side of me, the raw, uncaged animal that already exists inside of me, but now times a factor of a billion, because of her. And that animalistic energy inside me is no longer solely directed toward business, fighting, and ruling the underworld, but instead, it’s like a heat-seeking missile on making a family with her as soon as she’ll let me between those lithe legs.

Oh yes, she’ll meet the beast inside me, the one she’s awoken from a lifelong sleep. The one she’s made stir.

Half of me demands I strip off my clothes and jump into bed with her and the other half of me knows it’s not right and settles for the idea of yanking down my zipper and fucking the hell out of my hand.

I can do neither, not in her presence.

She lets out the most feminine little exhale and rolls over, her eyes opening ever so slightly as she looks up at me.

“Can you hold me?”

It’s all the permission I need and in a second I’m in the bed I’ve spent so many nights in alone, but this time my arms are wrapped around the most precious creature in the world as I pull her back into my front, cuddling with her. Spooning I think it’s called.

If the man I was last night could see me now he’d be disgusted, thinking I’m some little lovestruck puppy with no balls. But I don’t give one single fuck. I know the truth now and I know my balls aren’t solely for making cut-throat decisions. Not even close. Their primary purpose has been and always will be the same throughout the history of mankind…for man to fill his woman with his seed and spread his family far and wide, while always remembering that his woman is his queen.

She arches her back and pushes her ass into my midsection. I breathe in that fruity scent again. One that must be natural because there’s no way that something that came from a bottle could have survived the night she’s had. Not to mention she was so exhausted when I carried her inside I put her straight into bed, which is an impossibility for me. Not only does no one else sleep in my bed, but I always shower before lying down. In the single move of putting her to bed, I broke two of my rules, and I know she’s going to have me shattering even more…willingly, happily, with pleasure as long as it involves doing things that make her happy.

It’s a strange thought, focusing on someone else. But there’s just something about the idea of making her happy that puts me at ease. I want to pull stars out of the sky and hand them to her. I want to do everything for her, not just in a romantic way but in an…almost paternal way. To protect her like a father, yet discipline her when she does bad things…like run and hide from me.

My arm that’s underneath her pulls her in even tighter, and my arm above her pulls back and I run it through my hair, trying to calm myself but to no avail. I give our bodies just enough space to run the tip of my finger down her spine, trying to appease that need within me, but it only makes my debaucherous thoughts that much more twisted.

This fire inside me is lit, and it’s never going out. Every second with her is just like throwing more and more canisters of gasoline on it.

My cock twitches in my pants, the fucker throbbing and demanding to be let free. Commanding that I rub my need on her backside until she relents, and then take her. I can’t. I can’t do it. She’s not ready for that and there’s no way she’s in the right mental state to make those kinds of decisions, no matter how much I tell myself I’ve already made them for the both of us. She doesn’t deserve this, or more than likely any of the treatment she’s been receiving from people in her life for quite some time, and definitely, since she arrived in Italy.

I slide from the bed, my desire almost overwhelming me. I consider running to my home office and looking at the pictures of her again, handling what I need to handle there. The thought of standing over her and releasing this pressure also scrolls through my mind, but I know when I erupt I’m going to shout her name and I can’t wake her now. She needs to sleep, to rest, to heal.

Not only that, but imagine if she woke to me standing over her, my lips pulled back in a wince as I fist my cock so aggressively and so fast I don’t even look like I’m from this planet.

But I have to get relief or my body’s going to do it without my consent, beyond my control.

I duck into the attached master bedroom and heave myself into the shower, my shoulder thrown against the wall as I yank down my zipper and flip on the cold water.

It doesn’t help one bit.

The frigid spray hits me, but it does nothing to put out the fire. A second later, and barely without even touching myself, I’m coming so hard on the travertine tiles that they damn near crack. I lose vision for a second and damn near blackout, my body bracing itself against the wall as my knees give out and a couple of seconds later I’m a spent mess on the shower floor.

I need to impregnate her, to beast fuck the shit out of her. I can never do this again. No more Pyrrhic victories. I don’t need my hand, I need my woman and I’m not coming again until I’m buried inside her, impregnating her with our first child. Our child.

What a combination that will be…half beast and half angel. All the bases will be covered and we’ll raise that little one to excel in all aspects of life. My chest swells at the thought of my first son. But I’m quickly reminded of how beautiful our child will be if it’s a girl. If it looks anything like its mother I’ll be fighting off potential suitors for years. No dating until she’s fifty.

Once my vision clears and the feeling comes back to my body I stand and take a proper shower, returning to bed only after I’ve put on three pairs of boxer briefs and a pair of shorts…and a T-shirt. This is the future mother of my children. I need to do this right and I’m fortunate I’m getting a second chance.

I wrap my arms around her again, holding her tight as I try to fall asleep. She pulls my hand to the middle of her chest, and I bring my fingers together, knowing if I don’t my big mitt will cover both of her breasts and I’ll be buried right back in the mental and physical prison I’m trying to crawl out of.

Her heart beats slowly against my digits, letting me know she’s asleep, telling me she’s comfortable with me wrapped around her like a blanket. Letting me know she wants me here in bed with her, maybe that she even needs me.

She doesn’t even know my name yet, but she will. And soon, very soon, it will be her name too.

She mumbles something incoherent and despite my best efforts to understand, I can’t make out her gibberish.

“Rest, little one,” I whisper. “I’m here for you now. Everything’s going to be okay. Forever.”

Her mumbling stops and I feel the soft exhales on the back of my knuckles, knowing she must have heard me.

Being able to calm her swells my chest with pride, and somehow, someway, that thought alone helps me to doze off to sleep…with her, my everything.