Page 43 of Stalker's Toy

I've never felt more alive, more aware of my body and its desires.

"I've never...," I start to say, but Henrik silences me with a deep, hungry kiss.

"No words, Mia," he growls softly. "Just feel."

And so I do.

I give in to the sensations coursing through me as Henrik moves back and forth inside me, his girth stretching me in ways that are both foreign and familiar.

The feeling of being so exposed, so utterly at his mercy, is heady and intoxicating.

He angles his hips, hitting spots within me that make my toes curl and my back arch.

The rest of the world fades away, leaving only the two of us, joined in a dance as old as time itself.

"Mia," he groans, his voice raw with effort. "Dammit, Mia, you feel so good."

The desire in his voice spurs me on, and I rock back against him, taking him in even deeper.

Henrik's response is instantaneous, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, as he loses himself in the moment.

"Henrik," I gasp, my own orgasm building deep within me. "Henrik, I'm..."

"That's it," he pants, his fingers digginginto my hips as he thrusts even harder. "Come for me, Mia. Comewithme."

As if on cue, our climaxes crash over us, stealing our breaths and our words.

Henrik gently pushes me down.

The cool canvas presses against my breasts, sending a shiver through my body.

A moan escapes my lips, low and primal.

"That's it," Henrik murmurs, his hands roaming my back. "Let me hear you, Mia."

The intensity builds as Henrik enters me again, slow and deliberate.

Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through me, mingling with the sensation of paint smearing across my skin.

I can feel the canvas beneath us becoming slick with color.

"Look at us," Henrik commands, his voice rough with desire. "See how we're creating art together."

I twist my head, catching glimpses of our bodies intertwined, a kaleidoscope of flesh and paint.

It's beautiful and raw, like nothing I've ever experienced.

"Henrik," I gasp, feeling myself getting close. "I'm so close again. I’m going to?—"

"Not yet," he growls, slowing his pace. "I want to savor this."

The torturous pleasure continues, our bodies moving in sync, paint splattering with each thrust.

I lose track of time, lost in the sensations overwhelming me.

Henrik forces me down even more, grinding his cock deep inside me.

Wetness pools between my legs and he’s stretching me like a pretzel, forcing me into positions I never knew I could be in.

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