Misguided Vows: Chapter 31

Fucking perfect. All of her was molded and shaped especially for me. I can’t get enough of her. All I want to do is repeatedly stuff her with my cum. I want to mark her from the inside. I want to fuck her so much she’s filled with my babies.

Am I sick? Probably. Am I twisted? Maybe. But I feel like a depraved maniac as I fuck her. I can’t stop. I won’t stop. Her ankles are on my shoulders as I slam into her, and she’s squirting again. The sheets are soiled, and the room’s a mess, and I don’t fucking care. I can see my cum all over her inner thighs.

She’s a fucking goddess. My goddess.

I don’t even know what I’m thinking right now.

She moans and cries out, as if competing with herself on the audio and video playing in the background. It’s been on repeat. She’s greater than any of my wildest fantasies. Had she wanted to leave when she saw the recording, I might’ve let her, but not now. How can I when I know how much she loves it? How much she’s thirsty for my own sense of depravity.

Her nails rake down my sides, marking me, as she grabs my ass while I thrust into her again. Her marks are bruising, as if she’s keeping me in place so she can swallow every drop of me.

My lips crash to hers, and she whimpers into my mouth as her hips rock back and forth.

How many hours have we been fucking like this for? I release my grip around her throat as I kiss her gently, slowly. Fatigue finally takes hold as I pull away from her, but not before she bites my bottom lip and drags it between her teeth.

She’s flushed and exhausted, her hair fanning around her head where it rests on the pillow.

Beautiful.

Perfect.

Not mine, I remind myself.

Her nails release from my ass as I slowly pull out of her. I brief a glance at the clock on the side table and realize it’s already past seven in the morning.

What?

“We’ve been fucking for hours. It’s like a marathon,” I say, pressing my lips against her neck and kissing her gently. She chuckles and pushes me away. The sounds of her moans and my grunts on the video still play in the background.

“What’s the time?” she asks as she lazily wraps her arms around my neck. I realize I quite like this side of Alina. For all her defenses, smartass personality, and fuckery, her body is made perfectly for me.

“Past seven,” I tell her. I go to kiss her again, but she jerks under me.

“Fuck off,” she bites out and awkwardly angles to check the time on the clock. “Oh shit.” She tries to push me off, but I chuckle as I flip us so she’s on top of me in a straddling position. “I have to go. You’re an absolute monster.” She giggles, and I’m disappointed when the heat of her body leaves mine. But I let her go.

She gets off the bed, and I can still see my cum dripping down her legs when she stands.

Fuck.

“Where are you going?” I ask. She looks over her shoulder, her long hair flowing down her back. Fuck, now I want it tied around my wrists while I fuck her. Again.

“Back to my apartment,” she says, slipping her dress on. Pulling her hair back, she ties it up in a bun and looks over to me. “It was nice. Thank you for talking to me as well.”

I sit up.

“You don’t have to go, you know? I don’t have to leave for a few more hours yet.” And the thought of that sours my mood. Especially knowing what it is I have to work on. I’d much rather be buried deep inside this spitfire of a goddess.

She shakes her head. “First, you look like you need sleep. You probably should’ve been doing that instead of fucking for the last eight hours.”

“Depends on whose perspective you’re looking at it from,” I lazily say, sitting naked in all my glory.

She laughs. “Besides, I have to go into the shop for a bit. Dawson has a local paper interviewing him about the grand reopening, and I want to make sure it doesn’t look like a disaster. And I need to go back to my place to shower and change first. I’m not walking in there looking like this.”

“Like a perfectly fucked doll, you mean?” I ask sincerely. She hides her smile. “And I thought the shop wasn’t ready yet.”

“It’s not, but that doesn’t mean it can look like a dump. And besides, we both know what this is. And I can’t deny that it’s fun, but I still have to work. There are only a few more weeks left.”

I sigh, tired by her schedule and not entirely liking the idea of her heading back to London. Especially when I’ve just discovered how fun she is.

“Have you visited your mother yet?” I ask.

“Not yet, but I’ll do that before I fly back to England,” she replies, slipping her heels on.

“Your mother wanted me to come with you,” I remind her teasingly as I prop myself up on an elbow.

“You are not going to visit my mother.” She points a finger at me. I smile when her lips twitch.

Fuck, I could bite those lips off.

“Okay. Tell her I miss her and I plan to visit her soon.” I wink, and she rolls her eyes. “What, no goodbye kiss?”

“I think you’ve kissed enough of my body.” She heads toward the door.

This is true, and I would gladly keep on kissing all of it if she let me.

Her gaze roams down my body appreciatively, and it fills me with male pride to know it’s difficult for her to walk out that door. And it’s satisfying for me to know my cum is still coating her thighs.

“My driver will be outside waiting for you,” I tell her.

She stands there awkwardly for a moment, then nods and turns for the door. “Well, thanks for the mediocre sex,” she shouts on her way out.

“Medio—” I start, but the door has already closed behind her. I chuckle, scanning the chaotic mess of a room. The echoing moans continue from my computer screen. I didn’t expect her to see that, but the moment she bumped into it, and I went to catch her, my computer picked up on my facial recognition and, well… I was caught out.

I smirk as I stand up to pause the video, satisfied by all the new hours I’ve recorded of her. Fuck me. If I didn’t have to get on a plane in the next three hours, I’d probably be jacking off to all the new footage. I can’t seem to stop watching her. It’s an obsession.

I didn’t plan to tell her about Hayley; it just kind of happened. However Alina made a valid point about remembering her. Just because I want to forget, does that mean I don’t want her to be remembered?

Hayley was murdered, and the police couldn’t find her killer. Even as a detective myself, I could do fuck all.

It turns out she was digging into things she shouldn’t have been, and a hit was put out on her. She was a police officer.

I guess what she found was bad enough for them to want her dead.

And then I found them.

Every last one of them.

And then I fucking killed them. After that, I knew I was no longer meant to be a detective.

I knew the people we were after were only the small monsters in stories. And I was after the bigger ones. I help take down the worst of the worst.

Gladly.

Sometimes I even do the shooting. I am a fucking excellent shot, that’s for sure.

But if I can keep my hands clean, I will.

Unless an outlet is needed.

Something inside of me shifts. I don’t know if it’s because Thomas’ daughter’s case is too similar to Hayley’s or if it has something to do with speaking about her to Alina. But I feel that chapter of my life, the old wounds, reopening. I’m not sure why, considering I’d kept them buried for so long.

I reach for my phone and pull up the number I want. She answers straight away, without a second of hesitation.

“Aww, Will, it’s been so long. I’ve missed you. How are you?” Hayley’s mother says. Hayley’s parents were amazing. Still are. And now I feel bad that I haven’t bothered calling even though they try to call to check in with me once a month.

“I’ve been good. Just in New York. Hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

“No, never. Sebastian had a little girl last week, and guess what he named her.” I don’t have to answer to know. Hayley was close with her brother, Sebastian. “Hayley,” she says.

“That’s beautiful,” I tell her, rubbing a hand down my face.

My hand smells of Alina, and my room smells of sex and her perfume.

“Will you visit soon? You are missed.” The news of her murder was devastating, and although I never went into detail as to how she met her demise, I’m certain they have an inclination. Somehow, it was the only gift I could give them among the madness. They’d always been welcoming, and it made me run in the opposite direction because the reality was, as her husband, it was my job to protect their daughter, and I failed. Even if they didn’t make me accountable for it, it was my guilt to carry.

“Hopefully, soon.” I don’t know if I will. But I think I’ll try to call a little more often.