Page 53 of Unbound

Which probably explains why I say, “I wouldn’t complain if you wanted to find out.”

17

Walker

Ilike being in control. I like knowing what’s coming. I appreciate monotony and the expected. I prefer living a life that’s consistent and repetitive.

Which makes me really fucking confused about why the thought of Sybil leaving has me ready to lose my fucking mind.

She’s out of control. Unpredictable. A tornado that’s upending my life and destroying the carefully crafted existence I’ve created.

And I can’t fucking seem to get enough of her.

She’s not making shit any easier either. Every word she says. Every face she makes. The scent of her perfume tainting the air every morning as she gets ready. Hell, just the sound of the shower switching on in her room has me salivating like Pavlov’s dog.

And now she’s here. In front of me—against me—offering up one of the many filthy fantasies I’ve guiltily imagined while she slept a room away.

And after years of living inside a box I built myself, I’m finding it really fucking hard to stay behind the walls protecting me and everyone else.

Especially when the temptation right outside the door is so fucking irresistable.

“Hold on.”

I give Sybil as much of a warning as I can manage before pulling her body tight to mine and hauling her off the counter. Turning toward the stairs, I decide the best plan of action is to deposit her in her room so she can sleep off the bad decision she was trying to make.

And I can do the same.

But when I reach the top of the stairs, it’s not Sybil’s room my feet carry us into, it’s my room we enter.

My bed I all but toss her onto.

My pillows under her head.

My hands pulling off the leggings she wears nearly every day.

My fingers tracing up the soft skin of her thighs.

My eyes holding hers as I say, “You’re going to tell me when I do something you like, understand?”

Sybil’s blue eyes are wide as she stares up at me, bobbing her head in a nod.

I lower myself to the bed, wedging my shoulders between her spread thighs. “And you’re going to tell me if I do something you don’t like.”

She’s still nodding, the action jerky and unending.

It’s been a while since I’ve had the opportunity to enjoy one of my favorite activities, and I have to admit, I’m more than a little eager to get started. But not until she gives me what I want. “Use your words, Sybil. I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes.” She says it a little louder than I expect, making me think I’m not the only eager one in this room.

But it’s still not what I want.

“Yes, what?” I think I’m giving her direction, but I’m clearly wrong.

“Yes, sir?”

My dick has a visceral reaction to her guess, and it’s not a good one.

“Abso-fucking-lutely not.” I shift upward, bringing us eye-to-eye as I hover over her. “Don’t ever call me sir again.”