ᴢɪᴘᴘᴇʀ ᴍᴏʀᴀʟs | ᴄʜʀɪs sᴄʜɪsᴛᴀᴅ [sᴋᴀᴍ]

４. Ｃｈｒｉｓ

Last night and morning were a serious test for my endurance. I can't count how many times I raged out, rolled my eyes, growled and swallowed with excitement.

It all started when I saw Larsen on my friend's lap. I did not intend to interfere, forcing myself to continue to lick the tongue of the miniature brunette that I pressed against the wall.

In my thoughts, I shouted to William: Look. Larsen is sitting on the lap of another guy, and I do nothing to stop it. Thea is not on a short leash, she's free.

And the next moment I walked toward the sweet couple to pull Larsen from Henrik's lap.

I wouldn't have done this, but Thea began to unbutton the top buttons of my white shirt which she wore to the party, tying it under her breasts. In high-waisted jeans, tucked into high boots, Larsen looked like a hot cowgirl. But as for me, she saddled the wrong horse.

I was enraged even more because she began to resist: the girl had certain plans for the night that I, a son of a bitch, ruined. But I couldn't allow her to be fucked right on the couch among drunk teenagers.

And the fact that she didn't care that she was treated like a fucking whore made me mad.

Thea was not a whore, for fuck's sake.

That is why in the taxi, on the way to my house, I shouted at her like crazy. I was angry with Henrik who got her drunk, angry with Larsen who allowed him to do it. And she didn't even listen to me, almost falling asleep. Thankfully. 'Cause I shot my mouth too much. I wouldn't want to make excuses for my words in the morning.

The next strength test was not that I had to hold her hair while she was puking, and not even that I was washing her face and trying to brush her teeth. At some point Thea decided that she didn't want to sleep in my shirt: in a semi-conscious state, she threw aside the sweatshirt I offered and pulled off her clothes. Except for tiny lace panties.

All night I never turned in her direction.

Thea Larsen lay half-naked in my bed. I had only to touch her in the right places a few times so that she reached out to meet me.

But I did not dare to do that to her.

I just had no right to this body. And I remembered that I had to control myself so she would never disappear from my life.

The final blow in the gut was my awakening: the image of the sleeping girl in my bed. The blanket rested just below the ribs of this goddess, opening a charming view of the light pink halos of her nipples before me. Only for a second, I allowed myself to imagine how awesome they would look wet from my saliva. And then I went into the shower to relieve tension like a hot and bothered teenager.

However, by the time Larsen went down to the kitchen, I was already brewing coffee for us.

Fortunately, the girl pulled my sweatpants onto her rounded hips and did not ignore the sweatshirt which she refused to wear yesterday: I wouldn't have to suffer from the boner again.

"Good morning." I was the first to start a dialogue, noticing Thea stand awkwardly near the bar counter. "I will not chastise you like a child, Larsen. Don't make a guilty face. Just sit down. Here's your espresso."

I winced when she put two sugar cubes in a hot drink. It could fix the taste of instant coffee, but the feel of freshly brewed—it killed it.

"I don't remember very well what happened, Chris," her guilty look again, and I'm almost ready to forget my yesterday anger. "Did I mess up?"

Damn, Thea. You have done nothing wrong, to be honest. I'm just a jealous asshole, okay?

"No. You just had a few too many, so I decided that it's time for you to go home."