Claiming What's Mine

sen

ning to l

es the shit out of me. During rare moments of self-reflection, dou

e, this is a pre

een a bastard. I’ve been rude. I’ve tried ignoring her. I’ve withheld my friendship. Most day

s to life when we’re in the same room. I’m a

ays, I’m going

ith a bulle

ing through my brain is enough

t to slide my fingers through the glossy stra

und my palm and pulling it taut. I want her lush, naked body bowing like a supple tree branch and ben

, cheek and chest pressed against the mattress as I h

ent questions lingering in her eyes. If I were a lesser man, I’d fa

ruth, even i

vior. But she hasn’t. Not yet. She may have learned to stay away fro

rating in the air between us. But I do. I recognize it all too well. She wears her emotions across her heart

oo tempting fo

ays her sexual desire for me. She flushes when our eyes meet. Her nipples harden under clothing. He

e than to claim he

will neve

ni will never

men over the years. It isn’t difficult to find a willing woman in this city. N

flows freely

ion is more than enough to get you whatever you want. These women want to live vic

lifestyle. They want to singe their wings without getting burne

ia is d

uld prefer to come from average, middle-class parents. Not one of the most well-known crime families in the United States, whose power and corruption dates b

an exotic bird trap

breasted, generously hipped, angelic-faced women I pretend wit

n’t forget that these women are nothing more th

e her. Blondes. Redheads. Brunettes. Ones who are slim as reeds, with no

with my balls as I slam into her from behi

s n

side. Then I ejaculate in a blind outrage with a roar of frustration. Instea

ody where Sofia is concerned, which pisses me off more than anything else. I take pride in being able to turn m

ty is rendered us

my w

sess her, I’ll be damned if anot