Page 6 of Obsessive Stalker

“That’s why you’re here?” I ask. “To steal me away and…and force me to marry you?”

He gives a curt nod, stroking his thumb across my cheek.

“You promised you wouldn’t force yourself on me,” I frown.

“I was referring to sex when I said that,” he says. “I’ll never make you do anything with me that you don’t want to do,sexually. However, I’m more than happy to bend your will when it comes to holy matrimony.”

“Why?”

“Because you belong to me now,” he says simply. “I told you before. I knew it as soon as you put that bullet in me.”

“I’ll do it again,” I vow.

“I look forward to it.”

He leans forward, still cupping my face in his hand, and brushes his lips against mine softly. It’s just a hint, a whisper of a kiss, and I long for more, stifling the moan that wants to escape from my lungs.

When he pulls away, I blink hard, trying but failing to clear the haze of lust that his kiss inspired.

He takes my hand.

“Come, Kristen,” he says, his voice harder than before, more commanding. “We’re leaving this place. Now.”

3

Damien

I should have known.One kiss, one moment shared, doesn’t change the fact that Kristen doesn’t trust me.

My respect for her would lessen if shedid. But I can tell that she wants me, that she’s wet for me even just from a single touch of my hand to her face. There are certain things she just can’t hide from me, and her arousal is one of them.

Still, as soon as I take her hand and try to lead her out of the room, she changes in an instant.

“Fuck you, I’m not coming with you!”

She reaches for the cell phone on the nightstand but I grab it before she can, deftly pocketing it in my dark blue jeans before taking her by the wrist and pulling her to me.

I’m too enraptured by her beauty, by the way that her curvy body feels against me, that I don’t notice her other hand reaching behind her, grabbing the empty picture frame from the bed.

She swings it around in one quick, swift motion.

Glass shatters over my head and rains down around us. For a half-second, my grip on her wrist loosens. She takes that opportunity to run to the door, opening it and hurtling herself out. I don’t know how the little minx does it, but she dives through the outstretched arms of the men flanking the door, rushing down the stairs.

“Don’t harm her,” I bark to the men rushing after her. They’ve been warned that they’re not to hurt a hair on her head. But I don’t trust anybody but myself when it comes to her well-being.

I rush after them, pushing past and getting to Kristen just as she reaches for the back door by the kitchen.

She turns around and I feel a burning sensation near my collar bone. I look down and there’s a neat slice through my shirt, blood pooling beneath it.

Kristen aims the small kitchen knife at me, her hand shaking.

“Leave me alone,” she says, her voice high and warbling. “I’m warning you.”

Holding a hand to my men to signal them to stand down, I grab her wrist and take the knife, throwing it on the kitchen island nearby. Then I draw my gun.

She shrinks away, screaming in fear. Slowly, I take the gun and turn it around, handing it to her by the handle.

“You want to hurt me?” I ask her. “Do it properly.”

---