Page 57 of Stalker's Toy

My foot stops it from closing behind her.

And then it happens.

She turns.

Catches a glimpse.

Electricity.

Pure, insane, electric thrill.

She’s seen me.

But it’s not really me, is it?

She stares, like she senses.

Like she knows she’s being hunted.

Like she knows the shadow she saw was mine, is hers, is us.

I push inside her house, shutting the door behind me, locking it with aclick.

This is just like last week.

Only then I didn't charge up on her.

But, God, the fear, the way she might scream—I fucking love this.

I know it so well.

Know the way it starts.

I let it hang in the air between us until it’s almost too much, almost ready to break.

And then I charge.

She asks what I want, her voice a quiver.

I let her feel the terror before I answer.

I force her to face the wall.

She’s shaking, breathing hard and looks scared.

It's exactly the way I want her to look.

“Haven’t you imagined a man ravagingyou in the dark? Making you lose yourself completely?” I throw a British accent on thick, watch her freeze, watch her world close in.

The last thing I want her to know is that it is me.

Her voice is thin, like it might snap. “I don’t want this.”

I run my hands over her breasts, hard nipples like little pebbles.

“Your body says you do.” I murmur, low and dangerous, the kind of whisper that goes straight to her bones.

I’m forceful.

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