Mr. Devereaux (Taboo Series Book 3) by Mackenzy Fox

Author:Mackenzy Fox [Fox, Mackenzy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-29T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Alistair

I wrap my fist around my cock and rock my hips. This is what I’ve resorted to; creaming into my own palm because I can’t keep my damn hands to myself.

I wasn’t planning on pulling the car over and spanking her like that, but she kept pushing me. And if I’m being honest; I knew that I wanted it as much as she did.

Remembering her moans. The way she whispered my name on a ragged breath, and how she kept begging me for more has my hand strangling my cock until I’m jerking so hard I can’t hold on anymore. I spurt cum all over my stomach as I groan, her name on my lips as her sweet, round arse comes to the forefront of my mind. How she climbed over my lap without hesitation… she let me rub cream on her cheeks for Christ’s sake.

When I’m spent, I take a few seconds to catch my breath before reaching for the tissues to clean myself up. I already had a fucking shower, and I jerked off in there, too. This woman is not just under my skin, she is embedded into my system like a virus that I can’t shake.

Now she’s under my roof — what was I thinking?

Did I really think any of this through at all? Or did I just go right ahead and let my dick do the talking? I think I know the answer to that as I roll off the bed to wash myself properly. I pad over to the ensuite and grab a towel. There’s no fucking reason that I should be acting so recklessly; aside from the fact that I don’t like her living somewhere unsafe — I meant every damn word of that and I won’t renege on any of it. Charlize Prescott should’ve been a rich woman, but all her inheritance was taken from her and spent by her selfish grandmother. It makes me wonder what else that awful woman did. Whenever we get anywhere close to talking about it, Charlize changes the subject, or says something sarcastic. If I’d have known how bad things really were, I would’ve come for her. I should have. But it wasn’t Abigail’s wishes. We barely spoke to one another the last three months before she died.

In a lot of ways the arrangement suited both of us; she got to do her thing and I got to do mine. But looking back on it, the one person we ended up hurting the most was Charlize. She didn’t ask for any of this. She’s been through enough. Not just losing her mother, but having the memory of the two of them not seeing eye to eye and then the whole Grandmother from Hell scenario.

I climb back into bed and try to sleep.

All night, all I see is Charlize’s face.

A protective surge rushes through me, just like it did in the restaurant and the car.

I won’t let anything happen to her. That’s my promise, and it’s the least I can do considering my absence all these years.

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