Page 43 of Stalker

In theory, I knew Dane would turn it on, eventually. That was the point. He was playing with me like a toy. His toy. His Puppet.

But the sensation was light and teasing in an incredibly pleasant way.

Whether he was warming me up or teasing me, I didn’t know. But I would welcome whatever he wanted to give me. I’d be his good little toy.

Mr. Bryce watched me from the other side of the table and I looked away, taking in the atmosphere of the restaurant so I didn’t give myselfaway.

“What was in the box?”

Now I really did choke. I snapped my head to him, clearing my throat to breathe around my shock, and stared at him. “The- what?”

He nodded his head to the side, pointing out a large stained-glass wall sat between the restaurant and the reception area. Through the center of the glass, you could clearly see the desk. “The red box you were delivered.”

“Oh,” I stammered, trying to figure out what the fuck I was going to say as more blood pumped to my tickled clit instead of my brain. “My sister.” I rushed out, coming up with something on the fly. “I told her I was in the city for the day, but she was busy, so she was just having a key to her apartment dropped off in case I wanted to stay overnight instead of returning to Hartington.”

“Why wouldn’t you return with me the way you came?”

Fuck, the man did not just say the word came. “Um, like I said, it was just a nice gesture. I have no intention of using it.”

“Hmm.” He hummed, but our server’s arrival with a few dishes in his hands stopped him from questioning anything else. “Ah, here we are.”

The server laid down multiple dishes on the table, each holding a different type of food that I couldn’t name. “Enjoy.” He said with a slight bow and then backed away.

“Holy moly.” I whispered in awe. There wasn’t a single plate set directly in front of me like I would have guessed, instead they created a circle in the center of the table.

“So,” Mr. Bryce started, with a quick rub of his palms together and an expression of excitement on his face. “I’ve ordered us two of my favorites and two I’ve never had before. I figured we would family style it all and explore together.” He handed me an empty plate and thenpointed to the plates explaining the dishes. “That way, if you don’t like something, you can just move on to the next.”

Maybe it was the vibrations warming my clit, or maybe it was his uncharacteristic friendliness, but Lincoln Bryce fascinated me as he started dishing things onto my plate.

“Thank you.” I whispered, and he paused, plate in mid air with what looked suspiciously like snails on it.

“For what?” He scowled briefly, like the words were foreign to his ears.

“For being kind.” I stated plainly, accepting the plate so it wasn’t stuck in mid air any longer. “For making me feel comfortable.”

He sat back in a chair slightly and mulled that over in his head. “You’re welcome.”

Chapter 17 – Lincoln

She ate like she orgasmed. It was a total body experience. Initially, she held back, trying only small bites of things and leaving the rest for me. And sure, I probably could have eaten the entire table clean, but that wasn’t the point.

The point was to spoil her, even if she didn’t know that. So I pushed more and more foods in front of her, even ordering another round of choices when we finished the first. And I refilled her glass of wine, twice. My cock was hard the entire time, watching her lips wrap around her fork and the little moans that escaped them as she savored every flavor. Well, every flavor but the escargot, she spit that out in a very unladylike way as soon as the taste hit her tastebuds. And I fucking roared with laughter.

I couldn’t remember the last time I spent time in a woman’s presence where I wasn’t either fucking her senseless or ruining her life.

Sometimes I did both at the same time.

But with Peyton, her bubbly and often sassy demeanor was refreshing and inviting. I didn’t check my hacks or data once while I sat with her. Another very uncharacteristic action for me.

We were breaking every cardinal rule of fine dining; sharing plates, spitting out snail guts, and laughing as we enjoyed our night. But not a single person dared to say anything to us.

Sometimes money gave you the power to be threatening without even having to prove how threatening you could be.

And I’d fucking destroy anyone that tried to interrupt our evening.

I was so enjoying myself; I didn’t even toy with her clit vibrator too awful much as we ate. Instead, I left it on low, like a slight little hum against her body to remind her I was there. Even if she thought it was from Dane.

When I hacked her computer weeks ago, I found the toy in a virtual cart online linked to the site she searched for her primal kink obsession. And last week I ordered it, knowing I’d play with her with it, one way or another.

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