RONAN

I hate being a man of my word. Hate that I promised Hazel what I shouldn't: to fuck her.

When I moved her into my bedroom a few days ago, I knew I was inviting trouble into my life. The trouble has arrived. Because with her warm, chocolate-brown eyes glazed over with lust, she asked me to let go. To release my demons. She will realize her mistake when I have her under me, burying my demons inside her along with my cock and balls.

Fuck.

This is what I've wanted ever since I kissed her. Now she's practically begging for my touch, ready to take everything. She has no experience fucking, and her boldness is driven only by her curiosity, bravery, and lust. She's a force to be reckoned with.

I glance at the tapestries of the halls, and the intriguing details chiseled into the wooden frames. For the first time in years, I admire the elegance of the estate. I have a beautiful home, and I lament the thought of crumbling it. Surely that's what will happen because I don't fuck gently. When I bend Hazel over, I will slam into her until the bed skids around the room and takes down the walls.

There are two days left. I pray she changes her mind before that night comes. That girl is so powerful she turned a bastard like me into a religious man. I pray to the god I stopped believing that he has mercy and makes Hazel change her mind. Because if I fuck her, I will lose the last bit of restraint I have left.

– • –

Walker sends word that he returned to his estate. He keeps the conversation short, not saying much in fear that we're being spied on.

I remember the sheet of paper he gave me with the coordinates of his safe. He must truly fear for his life if he's giving me the location of his treasure.

I think of my own stash of money and wonder what would happen if my servants revolted or if the outside world wanted to tear in here. Who would inherit my legacy? I never cared to think that far. I've been too taken by the past and the present, ensuring I provide for my servants while seeking revenge.

There are so many names on my red list. So many former politicians and military men that I want to eliminate. They killed the soldiers–my brothers–who underwent the same experiment I did. A civil war broke out soon after the genetic engineering project came to light. The world wouldn't forgive the thought of politicians trying to play god and creating indestructible soldiers. I was young. A foolish eighteen-year-old kid. Made many mistakes and damn near lost my mind in the grief. But Walker stood beside me. We established ourselves as a power, gathering soldiers and servants in our estates. Now, fifteen years later, the perfect opportunity has appeared. We have found a few politicians who have been hiding like rats.

For the first time, I wonder what will happen after we crush them. What the fuck will my purpose be after my revenge has been sated?

Over the next few days, I lose myself in work–changing the patrol cycle, approving maintenance requests, dissolving the title reserved for my mistresses, sorting through my research, and anything else that will keep my mind off Hazel.

But although I'm the most powerful man on this land–on this country-turned-anarchy wasteland, I'm not powerful enough to stop time. Days pass, and the night has come for me to keep my promise. I must pay my debt in sweat, spit, and endless ropes of cum.

My feet are heavy as I walk down the hall, which seems narrower than usual. I can usually picture Hazel as I head to my bedroom. I always imagine her sitting on her side of the bed, laying on her pillow, reading a book. Her wide eyes finding me when I walk in, as if she never senses my approach. Her fists clenching the sheets. I thought this was a subconscious attempt to shield and protect herself. But given her bold demand that I fuck her, I'm starting to wonder if she was clenching those sheets to hold herself back.

Tonight, I can't picture anything. I don't know what she's wearing and what she's doing. Is she standing or lying down? Staring out the window in worry or glaring at the door, cock-hungry and desperate?

God, I hope she's hesitating.

I push my hoodie off my head, revealing my grotesque face. Hoping that it will be enough to scare her off and make her reconsider this madness.

I reach for the cold doorknob and take a deep breath, turning it slowly. My cock hardens in my pants with every degree the doorknob turns.

I push the door open, and the glowing light of the room streams out. It covers me from head to toe and heats my blood. I spot Hazel instantly. She's sitting at the foot of the bed, wearing a white nightgown. Her thighs are slightly parted, and her hands are relaxed beside her. Her pose is relaxed, but her eyes... I can't read them. Hazel usually wears her heart on her sleeve. She's an easy read. Not tonight. There's flint in her eyes, setting fire to the girl I once knew. Now she's sitting before me with a white nightgown and a golden silhouette.

She moves first, standing from the bed and crossing the distance between us. The golden light seems to consume more of her, highlighting her brown hair tossed in a bun. She stops a few inches before me, tiny as ever. A head shorter and over a hundred pounds lighter. Her head is tossed back, looking right into my eyes without disgust or fear of my face. No blinking, no flinching. Only steady, determined breaths so hot that I can feel them swirling on my neck.

My sneaky little maid, who is so good at skipping the wall outside, doesn't seem interested in sneaking around tonight. She's barging in like a wrecking ball. Ready to bring the fucking wall down. To crumble me.

She lowers herself to her knees. The door is still open behind me, but she doesn't seem to care as she undoes my belt and pulls on my black jeans.

I breathe shakily. My pounding heartbeat echoes throughout my body. When she reaches into my briefs and grips my cock in her small, inexperienced hand, I grit my teeth and take a short step backward. My foundation is rocking, ready to fall.

She stares at my cock for a minute. I can't feel her breath anymore, and I can't see her eyes. She's shocked frozen, and I wonder if she will retreat. My face wasn't enough to scare her, but my thick cock might have done the job.

Hazel leans in and seals her lips around my tip, my head disappearing behind her pink lips. She sears my cock, making it jerk in her mouth. She looks at me, and I finally see her expression. Surprise. She has never tasted a jerking cock before.

And I've never fucked with both my heart and my cock. I had never felt such a connection–such a passion. We're both experiencing firsts.

She returns her eyes to my abdomen, concentrating. She swipes her tongue across the base of my cock, beginning a gentle but confident bobbing motion. Her tongue continues its witchcraft, sliding on my base as Hazel bobs her head and smacks her lips on my tip. The rhythm seems practiced; orchestrated. A dance that will end with my cum applauding against the back of her throat.

"Fuck," I groan shakily, setting a hand on the top of her head, seeking stability that Hazel doesn't offer.

God, who taught her how to do this? There's no sloppiness, no awkwardness. It's like she knows what she's doing. Like she practiced.

Her cheeks are stretched full by my girth, but that doesn't stop her from shoving more inches into her mouth. There's no gag reflex, nothing stopping her from feeding more cock down her throat. I can't look away. I stare between my thighs, speechless and aware that soon, I'll be cum-less too. Her enthusiasm, her lack of regard for air, or the saliva dripping down her chin is the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen.

Blindly, I reach beside me, setting my free hand on the doorframe as I groan. My cock pulses in her mouth, the thick, veiny bastard ready to explode.

"Slow down," I beg.

She doesn't listen.