Page 32 of Stalked By the Linebacker

“Libby,” I tried to warn, but she rubbed her cute little ass against me even further.

“You’re hard,” she gasped softly.

“I am.” I tried not to growl. There wasn’t any way I could deny what was glaringly obvious. My hand gripped her hip, and my face dipped into her neck. “Go back to sleep.”

“Hector?”

“Libby.”

“It’s been six hours since my last drink,” she shared.

“Lib—"

“That means with my body weight and the alcohol percentage of the light beer, it’s all out of my system.” Jesus! Those calculations and the fact she did them half-awake were sexy as hell.

“Mi vida?—"

“I’m not drunk. Or tipsy. Or anything now,” she whispered. “I’m sober, and you said—“ She tried to turn around, but for some reason, I didn’t let her.

I knew what she was getting at. She didn’t need to remind me of the rules I’d set in place.

“Baby girl, you turn around, I can guaran-fucking-tee you’ll be straddling me in less than five seconds flat,” I warned with an edge to my tone. I was only so strong. I could only fight the temptation for so long.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” My sweet little innocent princess wasn’t experienced to know just how much she was teasing me. How far she was poking the bear inside of me. Especially when it felt like she scooted right into me and ground against me, a soft breathy sound escaping from her throat.

“I wanna take things slow.” My jaw clenched, but the little temptress didn’t stop. “I want to make sure you know exactly what you’re signing up for when it comes to me.” She didn’t know the shit I was capable of.

Watching her.

Following her.

Going into her room without her knowing and touching her things.

“I know you.”

She didn’t.

If she knew that dark, twisted, obsessed side she’d brought to life, she wouldn’t be rubbing her perfect little ass against my cock. She sure as hell wouldn’t let me share her bed or even enter her space. Not that it would keep me from going in. Not anymore. I’d blurred lines that were impossible to come back from.

“You need to be sure before we take any steps we can’t take back.”

“Like what?” she asked with a little moan as her thigh rose and hooked over my leg. Libby’s nightgown had ridden up so high, I knew it was only her panties covering her. The heat of her silky skin radiated against my jeans.

“Like what, Hector?” she repeated, her tone almost whiney with need I felt deep.

“Sex.” I swallowed. “When I pop that little cherry you saved for me,”—my gums even throbbed—“and I stretch that little pussy around my cock to mold you around me, I’m not gonna wear anything. I’m gonna take you bare, mi vida.”Was that my voice?I hardly recognized it.

“But what if?—"

“I breed you?” I cut her off. The smallest red flag waved back and forth, trying to warn me of the road I was heading down, but as small as it was, it was easy enough to ignore. My open-palmed hand rested at her abdomen, pushing her into me. Her stomach muscles clenched and flexed before my hand moved a little lower.

“Oh,” she gasped. Her head pressed against my chest. “Breed?” she repeated, out of breath.

“Breed.” I rubbed the side of my face against hers. I had this undeniable need to be as close as possible to her despite still wearing pants. Thank god I’d gone to bed shirtless.

“Fill you up. Watch my cum slide out of your tight little hole and—“ My hand dipped lower, until my fingers grazed the gusset of her panties with the lightest touch. She was soaked. “Push it all back in to make sure it stays and takes root.” She moaned when I pressed my fingers against her slit.

Even through her ruined panties I could feel her clit. Swollen and needy. Knowing how wet she was, how much she needed me, drove me crazy. Past the point of no return. There was no way to stop the dirty words that painted a filthier picture for her of just how depraved I was when it came to her.

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