My Soul To Break (The Soul Series Book 1) by Daria M. Loshlin

Author:Daria M. Loshlin [Loshlin, Daria M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-11-03T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Hayes

“Tempest” by Deftones

* * *

NOVEMBER 6TH, 2015

I watch the rain wash down the darkened windows of the great room as amber liquid swirls around the bottom of the glass, and the grand piano’s shadow taunts me with the life I lost. Or thought was missing.

Since the night of the accident, I’ve been hiding from the past and running from the present. All, in hopes of a brighter future with the dark-haired beauty down the hall. And today, I tasted heaven while I cradled hell in my arms.

I didn’t fuck a stranger to forget or get off, or to stop myself from missing her soft mewls as she came undone for me alone. I allowed myself to not only revel in but become consumed by her submission, time and time again. I held those perfect hips in my grasp as her nails bit into my torso and she rode my cock like her life depended on it. She was a sight to behold, sliding up and down, taking what she needed from me.

Then, when her little body couldn’t take any more, I dropped her to her stomach, pulled that sexy ass into the air, and feathered my lips along her spine until she begged me to fuck her again, before I enacted a claiming bite and a hand print sure to leave a bruise on her sweet cheeks, and fucked her until her body went limp. Her rapturous cries melted the day away as I penetrated more than her body, and gave her more than mine.

The sleepy smile on her angelic face—as she cuddled into me, pulling my arms around her as if I’m her safety, and drifted off peacefully—is etched in my brain. Every moment with her today continues to leave a mark on my heart and soul and coat me in fear. I’ve always known the devil in disguise was my forever. I can’t imagine a life where she isn’t, but embracing it now might mean losing her for good.

Wyatt knowing she’s with me means her dad is aware and probably researching how to keep us apart—or plotting to eliminate me altogether. After all, death means the end of us and the potential problems we could cause for him. Sending her away wouldn’t put an end to anything, only delay the inevitable.

And therein lies my issue, not his physical warnings to keep my distance, but the veiled threats against his own daughter any time there is potential for us.

I toss back the glass of scotch. The lingering burn coats my throat as I pull my phone from my pocket and seek advice from the last person I ever expected.

AVE

Friday, November 6, 2015

1:07 a.m.

ME: You up?

The phantom dots continue their sporadic dance across the screen, before blurring into the white background and playing tricks on my eyes as I will a response. Not that I could blame her for the lack of—I once broke her best friend’s heart.

A: You still an asshole?

ME: Every day.

A: Acceptance is the first step to douche recovery.

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