Trapped Into The Possessive Desire

10: "Slutty Enough"

She dared not look at him anymore, instead, she lowered her head and touched her head back. "I... I can't find my phone. May lost here."

Chris made a soft sound of acknowledgment. Then he walked past her towards the wardrobe, picked up a bathrobe, and put it on.

Daicy caught a glimpse of his body as he passed by. The sweet scent of shower gel lingered around her nose, blending harmoniously with his presence.

Only after he had put on the bathrobe did she dare to lift her eyes and look at him.

He wiped his hair with a towel, casually glancing at her blushing face. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth before quickly hiding beneath the shadows.

"Should be on the couch. Didn't you see it?" he asked.

Daicy shook her head.

Chris remained silent, quietly drying his hair. The surroundings became still breathless, with only the faint sound of hair strands rubbing against each other.

Daicy didn't know why she held her breath to wait for him to speak. After almost a minute, he finally put down the towel and walked into the living room.

"I'll help you," he said.

Daicy followed behind him. Without saying a word.

After Chris glanced around the room like she had just done, he frowned. "Why isn't it here?" he muttered.

Daicy didn't respond.

Suddenly, Chris lowered his head and stared at the gap between the couch and the wall for a few seconds. Then he turned to her and asked, "Is it possible to fall in there?"

Daicy walked over and leaned on the couch, looking into the gap. Sure enough, she saw a metal corner of her phone.

She turned around and said, "Yes!"

Chris nodded, smiling. "Good. Found it."

Daicy reached out to grab the phone.

However, the couch was, for three people, about 7 feet long, and her phone dropped deeply. It was difficult for her to get.

So she knelt on the floor, leaning forward with her upper body, extending one arm as far as possible.

Chris stood behind her. From this angle, he got a glimpse of what he wanted to see.

When she stretched her body as possible as she could, her attire clung sensuously to her every curve, accentuating the alluring contours of her delicately jutting shoulder blades and the tantalizing outline of her bra.

Oh, how the close-fitting, slender dress playfully moved along with her movements, daringly riding up a tad, revealing her tempting fair and impeccably smooth thighs to the surrounding air, as if inviting a gentle caress.

But what truly ignited his desire was the sight of her perfectly raised buttocks - so plump and round, they seemed to have transformed into an even more alluring shape, captivating his attention, and stirring up an insatiable hunger within him.

He subconsciously swallowed. Felt that the string tightening in his mind was on the verge of breaking.

She seemed to have not got it, so she moved forward again, raising her buttocks even higher - a movement that resembled a plea for making love.

"Bang!!!" The sound of an explosion echoed in Chris's mind.

His reason was broken at that moment.

He greedily stared at her figure. His voice was low and husky as he said, "Andy likes slutty. You are now slutty enough. His type."

He knew her sexy. But at the same time, he felt jealous of her liking Andy. So his words were laced with a sting, extremely vulgar.

It took Daicy a few seconds to process what he had said.

She suddenly straightened her body, knelt on the ground, and turned to stare at him. Her eyes filled with offense and panic.

At that moment, Chris knew he had lost control. Regret flooded over him.

But there was nothing he could do. He had already said it. So what else could he do?

This was just the kind of person he was.

In the depths of his soul, he was painfully aware that this was the very essence of his being.

It was a relentless reminder of his self-imposed torment, a self-flagellation that consumed him from within, leaving him drowning in a sea of self-reproach and self-loathing.

How he despised this part of himself.

His words were vulgarity, each syllable a venomous reminder of his debased nature. He knew it was repulsive, yet he couldn't help himself.

It was like a compulsion, a sickening desire to push boundaries and test her limits.

In front of her, he indulged in his darkest fantasy. There was no remorse, only an insatiable hunger for more, more of the debauchery that consumed him.

This dark fantasy made him feel utterly helpless.

It had crushed his spirit, leaving him a mere shell of a man. He knew he was descending further into the abyss of self-destruction with each passing day.

The hopelessness and desire consumed him.

This was the very essence of his being, and this was his reality - a cruel existence that he was condemned to endure. It trapped him in the never-ending cycle of self-deprecation and despair for the past years.

He couldn't bear it anymore.