Page 30 of The Hellkeeper

I guide her hands to my waist. Her fingers hover at my waistband, hesitant, but she doesn’t pull away. I guide her hand lower until she feels the hardness of my cock through my jeans.

“This is what you do to me,” I whisper, barely holding myself back. She’s been sheltered. She doesn’t know anything about men. And she won’t, no one but me.

Her fingers twitch, grazing against me. “Do you understand now?” I ask, pressing her hand a little firmer. “You’rethe reason I’m like this.”

“Why is it… why does it happen when I’m near you?”

It’s like she’s trying to understand something too big, too overwhelming.

I tilt her chin up to look at me. “Because you’re everything I want, little flower. You’re everything I need.”

Reluctantly, I move her hand to my chest. “Feel that?” I hum. “Feel how fast my heart is beating? That’s because of you. You make me feel alive.”

After a long, heated silence, her voice is barely a whisper.

“And when you... feel like this... what happens?”

“I suffer,” I say. “I crave relief. But more than that, I craveyou.”

I study the flush blooming up her neck, the subtle way her thighs shift.

“And how do you…?” She’s unsure how to phrase it. But I know exactly what she’s asking.

“Watch me,” I command.

I give her a moment to absorb what’s happening. Then I begin. I reach down, unzipping my jeans, and free my cock. Shock floods her face. I’d bet my entire fortune she’s never seen one before.

That fact pleases meimmensely.

“Let me explain,” I say. “This… part of me, my cock, it reacts. You can see it. The way it pulses. The way it aches.”

I stroke myself slowly, loving how she can’t decide whether to look at my face or my cock.

“Yeah, little flower. Enjoy it. Look at it. It’s the only cock you’ll ever know.”

I move faster now, working myself hard. The air is thick with tension. Her confusion. Her curiosity. Her arousal. It’s intoxicating.

I’m close. So fucking close. “Watch me,” I grunt. “Watch how your man spills, how he breaks for you.”

The wave crashes. White floods my vision. I come, hot and thick. Her name is a mantra on my lips.

Amelia.MyAmelia. My little flower.

I aim for the underwear I took from her drawer.

The fabric now holdsall of me. All of my come.

I hold it out to her, the evidence of my release still fresh on the material.

“Wear it,” I order. “Let your pussy get accustomed to the seed it will take for the rest of its lifetime.”

She bites her lip, fidgeting with her fingers. I know her, she can’t decide whether to cling to her innocence, to her sanity, or to the way I make her pussy drip.

She fights with herself a little longer before making her decision. Slowly, she slides the underwear she’s wearing off, letting it drop to the floor. She does it properly; in a way that doesn’t let me see what’s mine between her legs.

I don’t miss the irony.

With a trembling hand, she picks up the pair I’ve offered her.

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