Page 6 of Haunting Me

My hands tremble on the buckles. I process his words. Is this what you want Layne? Someone who would kill for you? I unclasp the first buckle. Two more to go. The second undone, he lets go of my wrists and holds on to the front of the mask. With the last buckle undone, I drop my hands.

Slowly he brings the mask down to reveal the most gorgeous green eyes, full, kissable lips, and a jawline to die for. He pulls his jacket off and tosses it to the couch, along with the mask. He reaches out and grabs my neck, pulling me into him.

His lips touch mine, whispering into my mouth. “You are mine and only mine. You are my girl. Understand?”

I nod. Still enamored with how handsome he is, I have lost my ability to speak. He smells of smoke, something woodsy, and the ocean. It's intoxicating. My mouth lingers on his, hoping he deepens our lips touching. He pulls back and stares at me. I’m wet and my nipples are hard, begging for his touch.

“What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you my stalker or zombie face.” I asked.

He licks his lips. God, he needs to stop doing that.

“Does it matter?” He says. The hand that is around my throat gives a gentle but firm squeeze.

“If I am supposed to be your girl, then yes, it does.” I said.

Leaning forward, his lips touch my ear. “Wes. My name is Wes.” That moment on the floor feels like it lasts forever. He pulls away from my ear and our lips collide, my body milting into his.. If this is how every kiss will feel with Wes, I never want them to end. My hands weave into his hair, pulling him closer to me. His hand leaves my neck and grasps under my ass as he pulls me into his lap. With his pants still undone, I can feel his hard cock. I moan into his mouth as his tongue explores.

“Oh, “I moan as his hands run up my back underneath my shirt.

“Off.” His voice was husky and assertive.

My knees would be weak if I wasn’t already in his lap. I get off his lap and he stands up, leaving me on my knees.

“Take your shirt off.” He said, and I do as I am told. “Fuck…” he mutters.

I cover myself with my arms, feeling completely exposed. He pulls his shirt over his head, his whole body is covered in tattoos and scars. He kicks off his shoes and pulls his jeans down. He bends down and picks me up. Wrapping my legs around his waist, he walks us over to my bed.

My mouth explores his neck as he stops at the edge of the bed. Wes pulls me back. “Have you just never fucked anyone?”

Well, he is in for a surprise. “I kissed a boy in the third grade, and that is the extent of my experience.”

“Where the fuck have you been my whole life? How the fuck has some guy not…” his voice trails off as he lays me down on the bed. I scoot back, but he grabs me by the ankle and pulls me to the edge.

“So that means you’ve never had your pussy eaten?” His eyes darken as I shake my head no. The devious smile that spreads across his face has me excited and terrified all at the same time. He drops to his knees. If I wasn’t wearing my thong still, he would get an eyeful of my bare pussy. He looks over at my bedside table and grabs one of my knives from the harness.

“No,” I say remembering his words from earlier. He glides the blade up the outside of my thigh, the cool metal making my nipples hard.

He pushes the blade against my hip to cut my thong, doing so the tip digs into my skin.

“Ah,” I cry out. It’s painful, but it mostly feels good. Deep enough to draw blood. The blood drips down my thigh and onto my sheets. Wes’ tongue glides up my thigh. He licks up the blood and places a kiss on the cut. That should not have been so hot. His other hand pulls my thong off, tossing it to the floor. My thighs quiver at being so exposed, especially to someone who I don’t know. Someone who stalked me and attacked me. My thighs clench together.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

“Ma Petite Mort, you are going to need to stop clenching.” His jade eyes look up at me. “Having second thoughts?”

“No,” I say, “I just need to get out of my head.” His hands spread my thighs so he can see all of me.

“Let me help get you out of your head.” His breath is hot on my pussy. The soft kisses he places down my thigh ignite a fire deep in my core. He switches to my other leg, his lips start the same sweet torture, a trail of slow, sweet kisses. I feel his warm tongue slide up, finding my clit. His tongue ravages my clit with deliciously slow strokes. I feel a pressure building in my core, and it feels so fucking good. I run my fingers into his hair, holding him in place as I ride his tongue. I give his hair a gentle tug as he dips his tongue inside me.

“Oh. My. God,” I moan, nearly breathless.

He pulls back and his eyes narrow. “God isn’t here, Layne,” he stands, pulls his boxers down, and climbs on top of me, using his knee to spread my legs. “When you come, you will say my name. Do you understand?”

“Yes…Wes. Only your name.” We are both panting. Kneeling on the bed, and in between my thighs, I see his cock. It has to be at least eight inches. “Nope,” as I try to scoot away. “There is no way that is going to fit.” Wes pulls me back.

“It will. We will make it fit.” He says, his eyes soften.

Wes has one hand at the base of his cock, the other wrapped around my thigh, holding me in place. “Take a breath, Layne. Make sure you breathe through it if it's painful.”

---