Page 106 of Stalker's Toy

I’ve never seen her like this, and it’s turning me inside out.

The woman grabs her and holds her arms while theguy goes to work, pounding into her until her body shakes uncontrollably.

It’s savage, it’s unrestrained, it’s what we came here for.

They switch positions. They switch everything.

The woman behind her, licking her ass while the guy hoists her up, wrapping her legs around him.

They don't hold back, not for a single second.

I want it that way.

I want her drowning in the madness.

I want her needing it more than she needs anything else.

He’s relentless, pistoning in and out of her, using her like the little fuck toy she is.

She opens her eyes and looks at me.

Hooded and filled with lust.

She speaks through the moans falling from her lips and shattering as she comes on his cock.

I’m the stalker and the maker.

The one and only.

Her moans go from desperate to satisfied, and it hits me right in the chest.

“Don’t stop,” I say, and it's an order, a command, a fucking promise.

It's raw and filthy and the truth.

It's what we are, what we’ll always be, what this night will neverlet us forget.

It doesn’t stop, and it never does.

She loves it more than I thought she would. More than I hoped she would.

Her body’s an instrument, and I’m the one making it sing.

“I can’t,” she says.

Mia loses track of who’s doing what.

She loses track of time. She loses track of everything except the pleasure.

I see her, how exposed she is, how alive.

I see the tremors race through her, feel them hit me like a hundred bullets with her name on every last one.

She’s saying it again, over and over, like a prayer, like a curse. “I can’t. I can’t.”

She’s wrong, and we both know it. We all know it.

She can, and she does.

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