Page 42 of Stalker's Toy

Henrik stands in front of me, his eyes a tempest of emotion.

"Bend over for me," he commands, his voice thick with desire.

I don't hesitate.

I bend over the canvas, presenting myself to him.

My heart pounds in anticipation as I feel Henrik's hands on my hips, guiding me into position.

"Mia," he breathes, and I know that this is it.

Suddenly, Henrik's tongue is on me, swirling maddening patterns on my sensitive flesh, and I gasp aloud.

His touch is firm, relentless, and oh, so good.

I arch my back, pushing against him, wanting more, always more.

"That's it, Mia," he growls against my skin. "Let me taste you."

His words are my undoing.

The dam inside me breaks, and I'm lost in a sea of sensation.

The slick slide of his tongue, the erotic sound of his lips, and the hardness of the floor beneath me all combine to create a symphony of pleasure.

I can't think—I can only feel as Henrik worships every inch of me.

He's an artist with his brush, painting my body with fire and need.

I'm on the verge of shattering when he pulls away, leaving me a quivering mess.

"Not yet, Mia," he teases, leaning in to nip my earlobe. "You have much more to feel before you completely comeundone for me."

Henrik's hands grip my hips, lifting me ever so slightly as he positions himself at my entrance.

I bite my lower lip, desperate for more.

He slides in an inch, then another, filling me with exquisite torment.

We both groan as our bodies connect, our breaths mingling in the dimly lit studio.

"Look at me," he whispers, and I meet his gaze in the mirror, our eyes locking together as he begins to move.

Slowly at first, he rocks his hips, each thrust echoing the wild beat of my heart.

The heat between us rises, and a sheen of sweat forms on our bodies as they glide together.

"God, I've wanted this for so long—to take my time with you, to savor you," he pants, his grip on my hips tightening. "You have no idea."

My reply is lost in a moan as he picks up the pace, driving into me with a primal urgency that sets my world on fire.

The tension inside me coils tighter with every thrust, the pressure building to a fever pitch.

"Look," he whispers in my ear. "See how beautiful it is? Look at what it's like between us."

I follow his gaze, staring down at where our bodies become one.

The sight of him, rigid and throbbing, poised at my entrance, sends a shiver through me.

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