Page 40 of Stalk Me

“Perfect,” I praise, my voice dark with possession. “Show me how well you submit.”

Her response is a keening cry, her body bowing under mine, pressed down into the mattress as I drive into her.

“You like that, don’t you, slut?” I tease, my voice rough with need. “You like being Daddy’s perfect little fuck doll.”

“Yes!” she cries, her head tossing from side to side as she bucks back against me. “Please, Nikolai?—”

“Say it,” I demand, my hips snapping forward, my cock thrusting into her wet heat. “Tell Daddy what you want.”

“I want you to come,” she gasps, her fingers digging into the bedsheets. “I want to feel you breed me.”

The familiar pressure builds to breaking, and with deliberate, punishing strokes, I finally allow myself to fall.

“Take it, malishka,” I command, my hips stuttering as I bury myself to the hilt. “Take every drop in your cunt.”

With a harsh groan, I release my seed into her. I can feel her inner muscles clenching around me, milking me for every drop as I fill her, and it sends me over the edge again.

“Oh, fuck—” I break off with a harsh cry, my head dropping back as I spill myself into her.

For a moment, there’s silence, save for our harsh breaths and the thudding of my heartbeat in my ears. I’m buried deep inside her, completely spent, sated in a way I’ve never experienced before.

Slowly, I withdraw, my semi-hard cock slipping from her body, and I reach for the spreader bar, unbuckling it so she can bring her legs down.

She sighs, her body relaxing as she stretches out on the bed, and I move to her side, pulling her into my arms, our sweaty skin sticking together. I bury my face in her hair, breathing her in, my heart rate slowly returning to normal.

“Wow,” she breathes, her voice soft, her fingers tracing idle patterns on my chest. “That was?—”

“Intense,” I finish for her, my voice rough.

She hums her agreement, resting her head on my chest. We’re both quiet for a moment, basking in the afterglow, and I tighten my arms around her, unwilling to let her go just yet.

My mind is racing, plotting, planning as I hold her. This is far from over; it’s only just beginning. She may have surrendered her body, but I want her heart, her soul. I want her to be mine in every sense of the word, and I won’t stop until she’s irrevocably mine.

“You know,” she says softly, breaking the silence, “this changes things.”

I raise an eyebrow, curious to hear her thoughts.

She turns to face me, her green-gold eyes searching mine. “It’s not just about the physical attraction. There’s something more now.”

I nod, understanding exactly what she means. “I feel it too, malishka,” I admit, my voice soft. “It’s more than just desire.”

“So, now what?” she asks, her expression a mixture of hope and uncertainty.

I lean in, my lips brushing hers softly. “Now,” I murmur, “we take it one step at a time. We explore this—whatever this is—together.”

She nods, her eyes shining, and our lips meet, a soft, sweet kiss that speaks of promises and possibilities. I lose myself in the kiss, but I’m already plotting our next move because I know, without a doubt, that I’m not letting her go. Not ever.

16

SOFIA

Itry to focus on the authentication papers before me, but my phone buzzes again. Heat floods my cheeks as I read Nikolai’s latest message describing what he plans to do to me later.

“Ms. Henley?” Mr. Patterson clears his throat. “About the provenance documentation?”

“Yes, of course.” I shuffle the papers, trying to remember where we left off. “The piece was exhibited at Galerie Durand-Ruel in 1876, and we have the original sales receipt from—” My phone vibrates again.

I cross my legs, fighting the urge to check it. The weight of Mr. Patterson’s stare makes me straighten my spine. “My apologies. As I said, the documentation shows a clear chain of ownership.”

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