Page 7 of Haunting Me

I take a breath, and as he pushes the head of his cock into my pussy, I scream out the breath. “Layne, relax. You’re tensing up.” I take a staggered breath, and he pushes in more. A tear falls down my cheek.

“Hey.” He said. I look up at him. “You are okay. Let me in, Ma Petite Mort. Once you let me in, I can make the pain go away.”

I take a deep breath to relax my mind and my body. He thrusts the rest of the way in. He inches in and out, and he goes from watching himself inside, in awe, to looking at my face. He reaches over and grabs a pillow, placing it under my head. “You okay?” He asked.

It starts to feel good, the pain mixed with the sensation of being filled so entirely. As I nod yes, a moan escapes my lips. He leans into me and is no longer on his knees. With my thigh in his grip, he drives into me with a little more force.

“I will not last long inside your tight pussy, Layne. I’m going to need you to come for me.” The feeling I was getting when he was eating me out was back, pooling deep in my core. With every thrust, it builds.

“Harder,” I whimper. His face is buried in the crook of my neck, and he moans. I don’t think I have ever heard something so sexy. This insane stalker, is coming apart in between my legs.

“Good girl, Layne. You’re doing such a good job taking my cock. Fuck you’re so perfect.” He moans the words into my neck.

My lips find his neck, and the sound that comes out of him could become addictive.

“Oh, fuck.” He whimpers.

Jesus fucking Christ, he whimpered. Fuck. Me. I’m done. You can drag me down to hell now for fucking my stalker as long as I can take this man with me.

I grind into his thrusts. I come as his lips crash down into mine, moaning into his mouth. “Wes!” His name comes out as a breathless moan. The waves of intense pleasure cascade as I am met with the sensation of his cock pulsing inside of me. His warm cum spills out of me as he pulls back. He falls on the bed next to me and lets out a sigh. “What?” I asked, wondering if it wasn’t good or something.

He chuckles. “I thought I would last longer. Edging is not all it’s cut out to be.”

Chapter five

W E S

Layne props herself up on her elbows, wincing as she shifts her thighs. “What is edging?” She asks, adjusting her glasses on her face.

"You bring yourself to the point of orgasm and then you stop," I say, smirking at the ceiling. I love her innocence. She is going to be fun to teach.

Her eyes met mine, and I could see the confusion etched on her face. “That’s dumb.”

I groan and roll back onto her, feeling the warmth of her body against mine as I cup her breast in my hand. As I suck on her nipple, I feel her body arching towards me in pleasure.

“Oh…fuck,”she moaned.

I bring my hand down to her pussy and she is already wet again. One finger went inside her while I switched to her other nipple. She is underneath me, writhing in pleasure.

Layne tries to suppress a moan, but her face gives away the mixture of pleasure and pain she's feeling. She doesn’t know which one to let take over. I’m already hard and ready to go, and I intend on fucking her as many times as I can before I have to leave. I have a lot of catching up to do after three months of denying myself, and I am making sure I get my fill. With a satisfying pop, I release her nipple from my mouth. I run my tongue slowly down her stomach, savoring the taste of her skin. Her skin is salty and sweet. The scent of her arousal is intoxicating. I can feel the wetness on my tongue as I suck and lick her sensitive bud.

“Wes, Oh…Go…” I give her clit a gentle nibble, reminding her not to mention God. “Sorry…oh shit,” she whimpers into the pillow.

With a smirk on my face, I dive my tongue inside her, tasting her sweetness. The taste of her is blended with something other than my cum.

Blood. I fucking forgot she would bleed.

Blood covers the sheets, my cock, and now surely my face. From between her legs, I look up and see her completely lost in pleasure.

Fuck it.

I dive back in and eat her pussy until she is screaming, grabbing the sheets, and cursing.

Layne's body trembles as she comes, and her release drips down my chin, leaving me wanting more. As I sit up, she groans, "Oh no!” She hides her face in the pillow. My reflection stares back at me from the mirror above her dresser. The combination of our release and blood covered my face, glistening in the light. Layne raised her head and grimaced at seeing the mess between her legs. "It looks like a murder scene," she says, her cheeks turning bright red with embarrassment.

“Nah,” I chuckle, “a murder scene would be significantly worse. Trust me.” Layne tries to scoot away from me, but I grab her by the knees and pull her back.

“I’m not finished, Ma Petite Mort.” I thrust inside of her in one swift motion. She bites her lip at the sensation. This time, I am not as gentle. My thrusts are deep and merciless.

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