Page 233 of Texting Dr. Stalker

Water continued to drip off my hair, splashing her with midnight droplets.

Her hips rocked, seeking me as I grunted with the need to be inside her.

A flicker of persecution told me to stop.

Not to be this manic.

But then she clawed at my back, and I snapped.

Burrowing my face in her neck, I bit her. I sank my teeth into the spot where Milton’s fingers once bruised her gorgeous skin and marked her unapologetically with my own autograph.

She clung to me as I kissed my way back to her mouth, unbuckling and unzipping as I went.

Our lips found each other again.

She bit my bottom lip, drawing the tang of blood.

I snarled and bit her back, rocking my hips between her legs, letting her feel just how badly I needed her.

Squeezing her breast, I ran my thumb over her pert nipple. “Tell me now if fucking you on this table is going to be a problem.”

Her head tipped back with a throaty groan. “God, no problem. No problem at all.”

Grabbing her dress, I bunched it around her hips.

My gaze locked on the bareness between her legs. “Goddammit, you’re not wearing any underwear.”

She smirked. “I had planned on torturing you a little more than this. I wanted payback, but…screw it.” Grabbing my undone jeans, she jerked me forward and stuck her hand into my boxer-briefs.

I snarled as she found me. I shuddered as she jerked me.

In a few savage pumps, she almost made me come.

Fisting her wrist, I wrenched her hold off me and shoved my pants down.

My erection bounced free. She licked her lips. Her gaze met mine as she whispered, “Can you…can you do me a favour?”

“Anything,” I breathed. “Always.”

“Can you take the contacts out?”

A lopsided, stupid smile spread my lips. “Miss the green?”

“I want to sleep with Zander tonight. Not X.”

Fuck, how had this happened?

I thought I’d been the one sneaking into her life, but she’d been the true thief. She’d successfully stolen every shred of my soul.

With shaking hands, I reached up and pinched the film over my pupil. I sucked at this in front of a mirror, let alone broken with lust. I struggled and winced and poked myself, making my eye water.

She wrinkled her nose. “Jeez, I didn’t realise they were so hard to take out.”

“They’re not. I just suck at it.”

She swooned into me. “And you still put them in for me? Be still my beating heart.”

I finally managed to grab the slippery sucker. Removing the left contact with triumph, I squished it between my fingers and flicked it onto the floor.

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