Page 5 of Stalked By the Wrestler

I don’t know what I’ll do if she says no.

CHAPTER

FOUR

Judy

I'm gaping at him, my heart hammering in my chest. Cedric, Big Ced himself, the wrestler who’s all over TV, is sitting right here in front of me, his blue eyes blazing with something wild, something hungry.

And that offer he just laid out on the table, it's crazy.

Insane.

"Judy," he says, his voice a deep rumble that sounds like it's coming from the depths of his towering, tattooed body, "I want you. Now."

Why me? I'm just a waitress, an artist-in-training with dreams as big as his biceps, and yet, here he is, wanting me.

The famous Big Ced wants...me.

My brain screams no, a reflex to protect my heart, my body, my everything.

But then, I look into those piercing eyes of his, and I feel it—the pull, the heat, the undeniable thrill.

"Okay," I hear myself say, the word slipping out like a secret confession. "Yes, Cedric."

And that's it. Without another damn word, he stands and sweeps me up like I weigh nothing. His shoulder digs into my belly as he hoists me over, and I'm suddenly upside down, staring at his muscled back as we leave the diner behind.

The patrons are probably watching, mouths open, wondering if this is some kind of performance. But it's not. It's real.

Too real.

The cool night air hits my face as he strides down the street with purpose, carrying me as if I'm his championship belt. His pace is relentless—confident, determined, like the man himself. I should be scared, but instead, I'm tingling all over, anticipation licking through me.

We reach his place, a fortress fitting for a man of his stature, and the door slams shut behind us. Then, with a tenderness that belies his massive frame, he lays me down, his hands and lips worshipping every inch of my skin. I'm exposed, raw, open in a way I've never been before, and it's exhilarating.

He slips my shirt over my head and marvels at the tiny mounds of my breasts spilling from the cups of my bra. He cups them in his hands. “Look at these perfect little titties,” he groans as if he’s in pain before his mouth descends on them.

His lips are hot and insistent, sucking and nibbling in a way that makes my toes curl. I'm gasping, caught in a whirlwind of sensation I've never known, my mind reeling as he works his magic. There's no gentle introduction. It's all consuming, all powerful. This is Cedric’s world, and I’m merely surrendering to the storm.

His hands roam with purpose—over my stomach, dipping below the waistband of my jeans. With a deft flick, he unbuttons them and they're gone, discarded somewhere on the floor with my shoes and his shirt. I'm feeling more naked than I've ever been, not just physically but emotionally too. My very soul feels bare under his gaze.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Judy,” he murmurs against the skin of my belly, his voice vibrating through me. His words aren't just words. They're caresses that stroke the hidden parts of me longing to be acknowledged and adored.

Then he's moving lower, his beard scratching slightly against my inner thighs causing a delightful shiver to run through me. His breath is hot against my core before his tongue replaces it, slow and experimental at first, learning the shape and taste of me. It’s an invasion, but one I welcome—no, crave. I can't help but moan out loud, fingers tangling in his short hair, guiding him closer.

“Cedric,” I whimper, not even recognizing the desperate need in my voice.

He looks up from between my thighs, eyes gleaming with raw desire. “I’ve got you, sweet thing,” is all he says before he dives back in, driving me wild with each flick and swirl of his tongue. The world narrows down to just his mouth and me, everything else fading into insignificance.

Pleasure builds like a storm surge within me, overwhelming and relentless. When it breaks over me, it’s with a force that tears a loud cry from deep within my lungs.

But he doesn't stop. He rides it out with me until I'm limp and breathless beneath him.

Pulling away slightly, Cedric wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and moves to hover over me. His eyes capture mine in a gaze so intense it's almost physical. “Mine,” he states fiercely—a simple declaration that seems to brand my bones.

With meticulous care unlike earlier, he positions himself at my entrance. I feel him there—hot, hard—a promise of what's to come. The moment stretches out between us tantalizingly slow as he watches for any sign of hesitation in my eyes.

There’s none.

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