Hawthorne

8 - Letter

Vincent Hawthorne

Fucking hell.

What came over me?

Camilla has always sucked me in, ever since we were kids but I was hoping to have more self-control by now.

It seems that I was wrong.

The girl has been doing everything perfectly so far. On top of the cleaning, of the meals, of any tasks there are on the property. I am not surprised, aunt Elizabeth had been sick for a while and I a sure she was probably in charge of pretty much everything until now.

She's independent and doesn't bother me with the minimal stuff that I don't even care about.

Tonight, dinner was perfect.

It was different, tasty, refreshing.

Different from the same old dishes my mom has her staff serve all the time.

I loved it.

So when she attacked Camilla and her choices I was oddly affected. I've never been so defensive and angry with my mom before but I just couldn't take it anymore.

She has no reason to attack Camilla that way and honestly, I had had enough.

But when I was back in my room, all I could think about was her and how would she be after being treated that way.

I've tried to keep my distance but I couldn't.

Seeing her there, cleaning - a task that isn't hers in the first place - irked me. Especially because I know she was doing it as a way to keep her mind off of what had happened.

It wasn't her fault and still, I could see the worry in her eyes from the moment I'd locked my gaze with hers.

But when I heard her stomach growling. Oh boy, was I angry...

It was supposed to be an innocent act, to give her some food before she passed out in front of me but of course, she had to sexualize a fucking dessert most innocently.

After seeing her lick her fingers like that and that almost kiss, I sure as hell need a cold shower if I plan on having some kind of sleep tonight.

That woman is sexy without even trying. The ingenuity and kindness she holds in herself, makes it all harder for me, in every fucking sense of the word. The urge to fuck the innocence out of her is getting bigger and bigger by the day.

I have no fucking idea how long will I be able to resist her.

This self-control was doomed from the start. I'll snap, eventually.

The tension hasn't left me, not since I stepped foot in the kitchen.

I knew what I was doing, what I was getting myself into.

Do her lips taste as good as I think they do? As good as her scent?

"Fucking hell," I mutter when I finally take the last clothing piece off of my body and enter the cold shower.

Not even the freezing water running down my body is enough to make my hard-on go away. Not when all I see when closing my eyes, is Camilla's heated eyes on mine while sucking on her finger.

It makes me wonder what would feel like if those plump lips were around my dick, sucking on me instead. The thought makes me even harder.

I can't escape my mind, nor my thoughts and right now, the only feasible solution is to give into them.