Chapter 3

Taking her Innocence 3

LilaHis sharp jaw shadowed with stubble, dark hair messy like he’d been running his hands through it, eyes a piercing storm-gray even in the dim light. Straight nose, full mouth pulled tight in pleasure, brows drawn together in concentration. He was built like the cowboys in old movies—wide shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, abs cut deep, every line of him hard-earned muscle from years of real work. A faint scar ran across one pec. His chest rose and fell fast, skin gleaming faintly with sweat.And his hand never stopped moving, slow and firm, like he didn’t care, or hadn’t decided yet if I stayed or ran.Our eyes locked. His didn’t widen in shock. Didn’t flinch. They just darkened, pupils blowing wide as he took me in, standing there in my thin sleep shorts and tank top, phone light shaking in my trembling hand, mouth open like an idiot.Poor me, and my fragile mental health.I’d just walked in on my uncle jerking off on my very first night here. Heat flooded my face, my chest, lower—shame and something else I didn’t want to name. My legs felt rooted to the floor.