SINFULLY YOURS

Chapter 41: Chapter 41. Pervert

Chapter 41. Pervert

Oh my freaking God. I fucking lost it.

Don remained by the table, staring at it with a blank gaze. His mind was rumbling with endless thoughts, crisscrossing here and there. He could still feel the phantom feeling of her legs wrapped around his waist, those soft, sharp, dangerous eyes. He closed his eyes and shook his head quickly.

God, she’s driving me fucking nuts.

He breathed out, pinching his nose bridge. The underlying current within him was confusing. One was with the raging heat she was forcing out of him, and the second one was about that name, Tim. He couldn’t shove it out of his mind. He raked his fingers through his hair with discomfort. The similarity of that name was separating his nerves.

He turned around and slowly sat at the edge of his table, resting his hands on each side of him, tilting his head to the right. A sudden thought flashed in his mind—a thought he had thought to himself he would never return to, a thought from a very, very long time ago.

The name Tim was so similar to one name, Kim, and also similar to another, Lim, and similar to the third one, Jim, and finally, Grim.

His body began to shake. The thoughts of those names sent currents all over his body. He swallowed hard. The gulp in his throat was sharp, almost painful.

There is no freaking way, he thought to himself, suddenly hyperventilating. He began to fan himself with his hands.

Oh my goodness. He pressed his palm against his forehead. Am I catching a fever? Jesus, why is it so hot?

He shook his head quickly. There is no freaking way. He looked around. Is he here already? It’s way too early. He pushed away from the table,. pacing around in discomfort.

This definitely is not sitting right with me, he thought to himself, folding his arms and staring at the door.

Why did she mention his name? It was not making sense. Is he already visiting her? I mean, she couldn’t just conjure up his name from nowhere, except she must have probably met someone with that name. And then she mentioned accidentally that it was Tim who gave her the hickey.

Or could it just be a random dude who bore the name simply by chance?

A coincidence?

A sudden pressure settled in his chest. He clenched his fist tightly until his knuckles ached. He closed his eyes and inhaled sharply, smacking his tongue in between his teeth.

Easy, Don, he told himself. Easy, don’t give yourself way too much pressure. It’s still too early. You haven’t even gone too far in this life.

He stared at the ground once again, then he turned around, shaking his head. I can’t let this go. I need to investigate this. Seriously.

He was about to walk back towards the table when he felt a sudden pressure in between his legs. He stopped and looked down. He saw the raging hard-on. The instinct had already picked up right from the moment he held her against the table, when she wrapped her legs around his waist.

He groaned. He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. God, what is this girl doing to me? Even despite my fear at the mention of Tim’s name, I am still so fucking hard. I don’t know what to do anymore. The pressure of everything was combusting him.

He walked around and crashed back into his chair, shaking his head and burying his face into his palms.

I am unhinged. So suddenly unhinged because of that girl. I can’t control this.

He suddenly brought his hands down from his face. How is it going to be so fucking easy to keep avoiding her? It’s not so easy. I can’t take her out of my mind. I can’t just... let her go.

He stared at some documents on his table. "I’m outta here."

He got up and packed a few files, closed his laptop shut, and shoved important books straight into his sling bag, then swung it over his shoulder. He stepped out of his office and locked it immediately.

Two female staff members that had been walking past, saw him and covered their lips, whispering to each other. He ignored them and walked the other way, not really in the mood for any interaction.

He stepped out of the office building, walked over towards where his car was parked, stepped inside, swerved out of the premises, and drove straight home. A lot of heated thoughts were in his mind that he needed to deal with, and God, he couldn’t wait to hit the shower.

It didn’t take too long before he got to his estate. He parked in the garage and hurriedly rushed straight into his mansion, tossing his bag against the sofa without caring to stop for it. He didn’t bother to set up the security system. He just clicked the door shut and rushed on.

He moved straight to the downstairs bathroom in the guest room, stepped inside, and walked into the shower after immediately peeling off his clothes, dumping them here and there in the guest room.

Within minutes, he was inside the shower. He tried to calm himself down, allowing the coldness to seep through his skin, ruffling his fingers through his wet hair.

Fucking calm down, Don, he told himself.

But the raging hard-on wouldn’t stop. He looked down at the visible elongated rod in front of him. He shook his head.

You’re a pervert, you know that? he told himself.

The image flashed in his mind: those sharp, defiant, vulnerable, soft dark eyes of hers, staring back at him, fighting him, arguing with him, her restless spirit. It made him rage even more. It ached.

He groaned and collapsed back against the wall, pressing the back of his head to it. "I can’t control it," he muttered to himself.

The phantom feeling of the way she felt with her legs wrapped around his waist came back, hard and fast. He ached so hard. He found his fingers twitching, his brain fogged.

Oh my God.

He couldn’t get that image out of his mind—the way he held her against the table, her petite body wrapped around him, the feeling of his hands on her waist. He mashed his teeth together. His hand instantly came down hard on himself.

"Fuck," he groaned.

He began to move his hand vigorously up and down his shaft. He couldn’t help it. His eyelids fluttered. The sensation moved through his body with a powerful searing force. He imagined himself holding her down, her pinned beneath him, ravaging her, driving her over the edge.

"Oh God," he cried out loud.

The sensation made his mind explode.

"Oh God, I’m getting close." He panted hard in the shower.

The cold water did nothing to calm him down. Instead, it seemed to drive him over the edge.

"Oh fuck, I’m close," he gritted out. "God!" he cried.

Just as he was about to tip over the edge, a soft clicking sound from the main entrance jolted him out of his world of pleasure. He froze and flinched, stopping immediately. He blinked. Then he gently switched off the shower and listened.

He heard the sound of the main entrance door unlocking and frowned. Then he heard the door close with a soft thud, followed by complete, total silence.

What the hell? he wondered with a frown.

He stepped out of the shower booth, picked up his towel, and quickly dried a few sections of his body. He wrapped it around his waist and slowly, gently walked out into the guest room. Then he grabbed the guest room door, twisted the knob, and stepped out as gently as he could.

He walked through the hallway, taking about five steps before finding himself inside the large living room.

Rosa was there. She stood close to the sofa, hugging her backpack against herself, her eyes darting around. Her back was to him, so she didn’t see him immediately.

A smile he never expected forced its way onto his lips. He folded his arms, leaned against the archway, and just watched her. She looked around, like she was trying to get familiar with the place. It was obvious she missed it. He saw her shoulders sag.

What was she doing here? he wondered, squinting his eyes at her. Was she really serious when she said she was coming to get her luggage? Did she really mean it?

He watched her turn around, moving backwards slowly until she finally angled—and maybe she caught him from the corner of her eye, because she swerved her gaze to look at him with a gasp, like she had felt a ghost.

And when her gaze landed on him, her eyes widened. He saw her cheeks redden instantly as she moved her hands to cover her eyes.

"Jesus, what the fuck?" she exclaimed. "Cover up, you pervert!"

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