Page 44 of Stalker's Toy

“Henrik—God!”

Finally, Henrik's movements become more urgent.

"Now, Mia," he pants. "Come for me."

I let go, crying out as ecstasy washes over me.

Henrik follows soon after, his grip on my hips tightening as he finds his release.

We collapse onto the canvas, breathless and paint-smeared.

After a few moments, Henrik helps me up, his touch surprisingly gentle.

"Let's get you cleaned up," he says softly, leading me to an adjoining bathroom.

I take my time getting cleaned up and once I’m outside, Henrik has cash in his hand.

My mind is still reeling from the intensity of our encounter, and it feels wrong to take themoney from him.

It makes me feel like a high-class escort, but that’s not what I am.

The weight of what we've done settles over me like a heavy cloak, but I can't bring myself to regret it.

With trembling fingers, I take the money and tuck it into my purse.

I murmur, my voice hoarse and unfamiliar to my own ears. "I'll... I'll see you in a couple of days,"

Henrik's icy blue eyes lock onto mine, a flicker of something unreadable passing through them. "Until then,Nattblomma," he says softly, the Swedish endearment sending a shiver down my spine.

I turn and walk out of the gallery, my platform heels echoing on the polished floors.

As I step outside, the cool London air hits my face, and I take a deep breath, trying to clear my head.

The streets are relatively quiet as I begin my journey back to my flat.

My thoughts race, replaying every moment, every touch.

What have I done?

He's my boss, so much older than me.

But God, the way he made me feel...

I shake my head, trying to focus on my surroundings.

The familiar path home suddenly seems different, as if the world has shifted on its axis.

I pass by a small park, the trees casting long shadows in the fading light.

"Get it together, Mia," I mutter to myself, running a hand through my dark cherry red hair. "It was just... it was just sex. Amazing, mind-blowing sex, but still..."

A chill runs down my spine, sudden and sharp.

I pause mid-step.

Something feels... off.

I glance over my shoulder, eyes scanning the quiet street behind me.

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