"Umarım kahvenin tadının büyülü geldiği günlerin olur.
Müzik listenin, seni dans ettirdiği
Bir yabancının seni gülümsettiği
Ve gökyüzünün, ruhuna dokunduğu günler.
Umarım hayatta olmaya yeniden aşık olursun..."
•
"I hope there are days where your coffe tastes like magic, your playlist makes you dance, a stranger makes you smile and the night sky touches your soul.
I hope you fall in love with being alive again..."
❝Onlara açıklama yapmak hoşuma gitmedi, bu yüzden çenemi kapadım, bir sigara içtim ve denize baktım.❞
Albert Camus , The Stranger
I laugh out a cry and run at him, launching myself into his strong arms that instantly wrap around me.
“You’re mine, Malachi. You’re mine and I’m yours and I love you more than words can explain. Please forgive me. Please. I want you. I want to be with you, build a life with you, and make memories with you. I want to wake up every morning with you by my side. I want you to chase me through these woods and take me against a tree. I want everything you have to give. All of it. Everything. Because I chose you. I—”
Malachi kisses me into silence.
He grins against my lips. “I love you, Olivia.”
I giggle and wrap my legs around his waist, my face sore from how hard I’m smiling. “I love you too. Will you take me inside our home and show me how much you love me?”
He shakes his head and drops me to my feet. “I want to rip that fucking dress from your body then make you bleed all over it.”
Butterflies are going wild inside me, my chest rising and falling with anticipation. “I dare you,” I tease. “I dare you to chase me and make me beg for it.”
Malachi groans and snatches my jaw, pressing a harsh kiss to my mouth before shoving me back, grinning and gesturing to the woods.
“Run, little stranger.”
I hate this girl so much!
Something weird is happening to me. My chest is sore, and my eyes feel immense pressure, and they’re… wet. I think I might be crying for the first time in my life.
She opens the door, but I rush in front of her, blocking her exit as I drop to my knees and grab her hands. “Olivia,” I whisper clearly. “Please don’t leave me. Please stay with me.”
Her sadness is all over her face—she’s looking at me like I’m the one breaking her heart, her eyes following a tear as it slides down my cheek.
“Please,” I beg. “Accept my v-version of love. Pl-ease. I love you, Ol-l-l—”
Olivia doesn’t tell me she loves me back, or that she’ll stay. She just gives me a warm smile and pulls her hand away before squeezing past me.
I never thought I would want to cry while reading this book...
I stay against the wall, my hands behind me, and try to think of everything possible to make her stay. Willingly. I want Olivia to choose me.
Please choose me.
Nobody ever chooses me.
Malachi.Kitabı okudu
She rolls her eyes. “You were the one leaving chocolates and flowers in my house?”
Yes, I sign. I also fucked you while you were unconscious on your bathroom floor.
“I’m going to pretend I didn’t see you sign that.”
You wrote in your journal that you wanted to experience somnophilia. You came on my cock and everything. Tick it off your little list.
I pull my shirt up a little and look between us, watching my cock still sliding in and out, inch by inch, both our orgasms leaking from her cunt as I slip out. I gather up what I can from her thigh, and my eyes close on a groan as I sink two fingers into her heat. Keeping my seed inside her is a must—I’ve imagined it too many times to be healthy.
I don’t want to get her pregnant—fuck that—but I like the idea of her being full of my cum. To know that it’ll be dripping down her thighs.
So pretty, so fucking violent as she slaps at the hand robbing her of air, digging her nails into my skin. She goes rigid as I hammer my cock into her like I’m trying to kill her, hard enough to hurt, fast enough that she must be seeing stars.
“Such a whore,” I groan, the words broken but effective as she glares at me before her eyes roll. “Take it. Fucking take it.”
her search the internet for answers as to why her thighs were sore—but none of the results filling the screen were the right one.
The reason you’re sore, and the reason your thighs are a little bruised, is because I fucked you, Olivia. And you loved it. It won’t be the last time either, little sister. I will fuck you again. And again. And again, until you lose your voice the way I did and silently cry until you realize you still love me.
My balls are heavy, needing a release, and I stroke myself again, my piercing sliding against my palm as I line up the head of my cock to her cunt, gasping as I push into her.
Fuck.
She’s so damn tight—her pussy is gripping me like a fucking fist.
I’ll make it fit, I think to myself, pushing in a little deeper.
This is so... Unhinged...
Sighing, I pull my fingers out of her and get to my knees, turning off the tap and releasing some of the water down the drain.
My anger knows no bounds, because I want to smash the tub up for interrupting us.
My cock thickens even further, and I bite my lip, my thighs tensing. She’s lying on the ground, out cold, naked, and I feel like I’m dying inside.
If Malachi was free, I’d want it to be him to make all my fantasies come true, she had written in her journal.
Dad ended up with brain damage—loss of memory and use of some body parts. So she got away without losing her Vize status, since our dad has no recollection of why the fight broke out.
He interrupted my meal—maybe now he’ll know better than to take away my food, the fucking asshole.
He should’ve died. I wanted him to die. I still do. He takes up so much of Olivia’s attention—she’s always wheeling him around in his chair, opening his food for him, feeding him. She kisses his cheek every time she leaves the manor. I know this because I have cameras set up there too. I have cameras everywhere she goes.
My girl never needs to worry about anyone hurting her, because her wonderful, ex-con, apparently psychotic brother is free and keeping her out of harm’s way.
How obsessed do you want him to be with you? (me)- This much.
I’m shocked it took this long for Mom to nail her down to someone. Adam turned out to be gay, Parker still can’t walk properly, and all the other suitors she’s had over the past six months have mysteriously vanished from existence.
You’re fucking welcome, Olivia.
They weren’t enough for you. No one is except me.