Page 193 of Texting Dr. Stalker

Disappointment filled me.

I wanted to suck him.

I wanted to make him break as much as he was breaking me.

“Why do you have to be so gorgeous?” he whispered, his finger tracing the seam of my core.

I flinched at the intimate touch.

I moaned as he penetrated me with a single finger.

I thrashed as he drove in deep, testing my readiness, driving me straight into hell.

“Fuck, you’re wet. So incredibly wet.”

I had no words.

None.

I didn’t care what I looked like, sounded like. With my eyes blindfolded and every sense blazing, I didn’t know how much longer I could stand it.

“Do it,” I groaned. “Please.”

“Do what?” He inserted a second finger. “Make you come?”

“Fuck me. I-I’m going out of my mind.”

And there, in my X-induced delirium, Milton couldn’t find me. The past didn’t exist. The future didn’t matter. I had no bills to pay, no walls to paint, no healing to solve.

I was just his, and I really,reallyneeded him to fuck me because my heart was about to burst and my sanity about to shatter.

Shaking so hard my teeth clacked, I reached for the mask blinding me. I needed to see him. To watch. But his fingers withdrew, and he tapped them warningly against my thigh. “If you want me to fuck you, you’ll leave the mask where it is.”

I pouted but dropped my arms. “It isn’t fair. I want to see you.”

“Next time.” His voice resembled brimstone and broken glass.

The promise of a next time made an orgasm build. Heavy heat coiled around my bones, tingling in my blood.

Something rustled again, followed by the telltale sound of a condom wrapper. The slap of his wallet on the floor hinted he’d come prepared.

I was both grateful and jealous.

If he ever tried to use those supplies on another girl, I would break far more laws than he had while stalking me.

The cushions shifted a little as he moved between my legs, but he didn’t lie down. Instead, he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and sat me up. His palms cupped my cheeks as we sat facing each other.

His lips found mine again.

I melted.

I burned and burned andburnedas he bit my bottom lip and kissed me.

With a soft cry, I crawled onto his lap and slung my arms around his neck.

He didn’t stop me.

With a snarl, he clutched me painfully close and plastered our stinging, searing nakedness together. My breasts to his chest, my wetness against the hard length of his erection stabbing upright between us.

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