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Long, brown hair swept up in a ponytail, a gray shirt that’s way too big on her, and round hazel eyes like a scared bunny. Her thighs are incredible in those shorts. All I can think about is how they’d feel wrapped around my back while I’m driving my cock inside her.
Chloe side-eyes me. “I know you, Wes. You’ve never looked at a girl like that.”
The thought of being the first man to get her in bed, the first man to make her come, the first cock she has inside her, makes me hard.
Not the kind of guy who will wrap his belt around her throat and fuck her so hard, her nails tear into the mattress.
I will be judge, jury, and executioner. I’ll get the justice my sister deserves.
But there’s a reason it’s called a crush and not something nicer. Because falling for someone you know will never want you back is crushing.
You think you’re lucky just to have a man glance your way, when really a man would be lucky to fall to his knees before you. You think you’re the type of girl who should only want the things that are sweet and nice, even if that’s not what you really want deep down. You’re an iceberg girl—most people only get to see the five percent that’s on the surface, what you choose to show them. But there’s a lot more to you hiding underneath.”
“I don’t do sweet and gentle,” he warns. “If you’re looking for a prince, he’s not me. I want my belt around your throat. I want to fuck you so hard, your nails leave scars on my back. If I kiss you, you’re mine.”
“I hope you know what you’ve just unleashed, little flower. You’re not going anywhere now.” There’s no going back. I’m his. I belong to Wes Novak.
