Page 7 of Stalking the Bride

“H-help me how?” The tremor in her voice is like the most delicate musical notes.

“I will show you what a man likes, Belle.” I force my legs between hers, spreading them apart. My cock is ready to burst from my pants as I lean into her, pressing my throbbing bulge against her warm mound. “That way, when you marry Fitch–” The words sting like venom against my tongue.

“I’ll have some experience?” She whimpers, her voice tender, seeking guidance.

I nod, feeling my control slipping.

If I go here with her, there will be no coming back.

“That’s right. You want to please Fitch, don’t you?” His name burns my tongue as I speak it. Thoughts of the two of them together assail my mind like invaders attempting to scale a castle’s walls.

Belle gazes back at me, her bottom lip hanging low, an open look of vulnerability glowing on her face. She nods hesitantly. “Of…of course I do…”

Pain stabs my chest as I fight back the thought of her doing her best to please Fitch.

No! That will not happen!

I want to drop the act and profess my feelings for her, but I have to keep up this ruse to prevent her from running. It’s the only way I can get my hands on her spectacular body.

I lean in, my lips desperate to connect with hers. I bring them within a hair’s breadth of her ear and whisper, “Well then, I’ll teach you.”

I can’t restrain myself any longer.

I reach around and drag my palms down the supple curves of her buttocks, clutching hard with both hands and raising her up from her seated position on the arm of the couch. A tiny gasp escapes her lips, and I’m inundated with vile, degenerate visions of all the depraved things I’m dying to do to her. I’m salivating like a wild beast.

“Fitch will touch you like this, Belle…”

My heart is pounding like a drum in my chest, its rate nearly double its norm. I want to simply spin Belle around, bend her over, tear her yoga pants down to her ankles, and drive my hard-on into her untouched little fuck hole. But I can’t. Belle means more to me than just a quick fuck. She’s my treasure. My future. It is my duty to ward off harm–even if that harm comes from me.Especiallyif that harm comes from me. And being rough with my angel is not what she needs right now. I see the trust pouring from her eyes, and I must respect that. Even as I lie to her, I must make her feel safe.

My duty is to the man who hired me: her fiancé. But my will as a man is screaming at me to take her. She’s right here in front of me. We’re alone. How hard can I, a mere man, resist against a deity of beauty?

“And I’m sure he’ll touch you like this,” I say softly through clenched teeth as I sweep my rough palms down the soft skin ofher thighs, guiding her pants down to her knees, revealing a cute powder-pink thong beneath.

“Will he be so gentle?”

Fireworks go off in my skull, flashing like aerial munitions that sizzle throughout my body when I see the little wet spot on the cloth, signaling her arousal. My balls go tight, swollen with sperm, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from exploding at the sight.

“At first, yes,” I assure her, even as I fight to hold myself back from roughly taking her. My abs are tight, and my blood pumps hot and heavy throughout my taut muscles. She twists her head away from me once more, causing her hair to fall across her face.

“Don’t be embarrassed, angel. It’s only natural.”

Christ, is this really happening? Three weeks of watching her, desperate to touch her, and now she’s standing here in front of me with a wet pussy, looking back at me with puppy-dog eyes. Ready to do whatever I want her to do.

But you’re lying to her, Conrad. Deceiving her.

So I’m a son of a bitch. I fully admit that. But I can’t help that Belle has this kind of hold over me.

“Keep going,” she whimpers. “Show me what Fitch will do.”

I push my anger down and lean in, pressing my nose against the fabric of her panties, close my eyes, and inhale deeply. Christ, I was right. She smells like heaven. A thousand times better than the pillowcase I stole from her.

“Will he like that? I always heard they don’t.”

“He will love it,” I reassure her, speaking my truth to her as I squeeze her thighs and move up to the straps of her panties. I twist them around my little finger, pulling down slowly. “You smell like a river of honey cutting through a field of lilac.”

Her panties fall from her thighs and land at her ankles, accompanied by a quiet gasp that slips from Belle’s lips, signifying her arousal. She’s eighteen years old, filled withteenage hormones, and she’s been fighting her impulses so she can maintain her virginity for a man who doesn’t even deserve her. I can hear her exhilaration from the rhythm of her breath. She wantsme. She just doesn’t know how to say so.

My eyes feed on the beautiful sight of her bare, virgin slit–her lips simply inches away from my mine. I inhale another breath of her scent and revel in the rapture it brings me.

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