Page 18 of Filthy Messages: Stalker Alert!

I gave up trying to get his arm off me. He was too strong, and I slapped my head on the soft, springy pillows.

“What? Are you off to murder some more people?” I snipped at him.

He put his chin on the crook of my neck and rubbed his cheek on me.

“Not today. Unless something comes up, sometimes it’s unavoidable.”

He was a homicidal fuck, more like, but I kept that thought to myself.

“Are you going to behave?” he asked as he unstrapped me from the bed.

“Maybe,” I said honestly.

“Then maybe I should leave you tied up.”

“No. Anyone could come in, and I’d be tied up,” I said in a panic, trying to lift my head up.

“Best behave then,” he said before he pulled away from me. “I will be back soon.”

“Ugh,” I said when I felt his cum drip out of me when he pulled his dick out.

I felt him rub his hand over my pussy and push his fingers inside me. I looked back at him, but his eyes were on my pussy. He pulled out and wiped his hand on my asscheeks. His eyes moved to mine, and I swallowed when I saw the unadulterated lust there.

“I like you smelling like me,” he said with a wink before he pulled his clothes on.

He bent down and picked something up, and held his hand out. I realised it was my glasses. I’m as blind as a bat without them. I held the sheets to my chest and grabbed them with my other hand.

As soon as he left, I would be having a shower and rinsing out what I could from my insides. There was no way I was having a child with this deranged man. I pulled the sheet over me and inspected my wrists.

He paused at the door.

“I’m sending someone up with food. Be good,” he said before walking out.

Be good, my arse. I was not about to become another missing statistic. I jumped off the bed and looked around. It was a massive bedroom. At the bottom of the bed, there was an ottoman. I lifted it up and found linen bedsheets and towels inside. I grabbed a thick fluffy cream towel.

The entire room was decorated in cream and small bits of dark brown wood. Even the carpet beneath my feet felt luxurious. I covered my breasts up with the towel and walked past the long sofa to the windows.

The beauty of the room and furnishings belied that this could be a prison, but looking at all the bars on the windows made me think of it as a pretty cage. The gardens looked impeccable. If we were in London, this must be real estate heaven as the property looked historic and huge.

A vibrating noise caught my attention, and I remembered what he said about giving me access to a phone. Perhaps I could hack it. I rushed to the bedside drawer and pulled out the latest iPhone.

I rolled my eyes. Crime pays well.

Sexy Fucker: 11:09 I’ve not even got to the office yet, and all I can do is think about how hard I am going to pound your tight little cunt when I get back.

My jaw drops open at his message. I see he has assigned himself a new name.

For fuck’s sake, I need to get in and have a cold shower. I already feel sore, but his words make me need more. This was part of his devious plan, or perhaps this is what happens when you don’t have sex for months because your boss is a dickhead.

Me: 11:11 You need help.

Sexy Fucker: 11:11 I do need help because I am certainly not wanking again. I will be home as soon as I can. Be ready.

Now that I’ve seen his cock I could picture him wanking it from tip to the base. I look down at his message again.

Be ready.

I narrowed my eyes at the phone and tossed it onto the bed before heading towards the door that I presumed was a bathroom. I refuse to be impregnated by a dangerous homicidal man.

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