And the blood. The way she licked the blood from my temple is imprinted into my damn mind.
Who does that? It’s not normal, right?
But fuck, it was hot.
I lean against the tile wall, my hand rubbing at my face where her tongue met my skin before drifting down my chest and wrapping around my cock.
I squeeze the base of my already hard dick, trying and failing to force myself to move my hand away.
I absolutely should not jerk off to thoughts of Lana, but I’ve never been known for doing what I should do.
I slide my fist up my dick, imagining Lana’s tongue back on my skin, only this time she doesn’t just lick a droplet of blood and step away. No, this time her tongue travels down my face and to my neck, where she bites down on my skin before dropping to her knees in front of me.
I can see it so clearly, her eyes staring up at me, a whirlwind of anger and lust in them as she wars with herself about what she’s about to do.
“Do it,” I whisper, and a seductive smile paints her pretty plump lips before her hand wraps around me.
She wouldn’t go all in. No, she’d tease the hell out of me, driving me out of my mind before finally wrapping her lips around me.
My fist works harder as I imagine slipping my cock inside of her warm, waiting mouth. The way her eyes would water as I hit the back of her throat. The way she’d gag on me as I fucked her face while tears streamed down her face.
God, she’d cry so good for me.
She’d suck me so well.
She’d fight me, but she’d eventually give in.
“Fuccckkk.” I come with a hoarse shout, painting the glass shower door with my release as I let out shallow, uneasy breaths while I blink the image of her on her knees away.
Fuck.
Why did I have to go and get myself off to thoughts of the little menace?
She was already taking up too much space in my brain; thoughts of her like that are the very last thing I need.
I finish showering, slinging a towel around my waist and building up my resolve as I use another towel to dry my hair.
This is done.
I can mess with her, torture her, piss her off to no end, but I absolutely cannot think of her like that again.
Never.
Besides, my fantasy Lana and the real Lana are two very different people. I can’t even imagine Lana James being the one to get on her knees for anyone, let alone me. No, I imagine that in the real world, she’d be the one who held all of the power, the one who took control of the situation.
She doesn’t come across as someone who could ever be submissive, she’d see it as a weakness.
She would never be compliant. She’d fight it tooth and nail.
And I’m not the type to give up control either, even if giving Lana a sliver of it would probably make for a good time. I could never risk anyone seeing me like that.
So, I do what I always do. I put my mask back in place, I shrug on the demeanor that everyone else sees, and pretend to be someone else. Sometimes, I even think I can fool myself into believing that the mask is the real me.
SEVEN
COLE
Logan mentioned in passing a few days ago that he’s seen Lana around the athletics building since she apparently uses the gym there. I’m not sure why he told me this because he’s not one for gossip, but I have a feeling he’s caught on to the games me and Lana have been playing and figured he’d help me in the right direction.
