Page 12 of My Masked Stalker
She doesn’t wake up when I straddle her hips, only mumbling some nonsense. Frowning, I look at her nightstand, searching for the cause of her deep sleep. And there it is—a bottle of Ambien, prescribed to her name, the prescription date coinciding with her grandmother’s death. Is she having sleeping problems because of me? Did I push her too far?
Doesn’t change anything. I’ve only just begun making her mine.
Leaning forward, I run my nose down the side of her neck, taking in that good-girl smell of strawberries and vanilla. I bite down near her collarbone and suck, leaving a mark that will remind her of who she belongs to even when I’m not around. Once I’m satisfied with my claim, I move down over her cleavage, pulling down the front of her nightgown with my teeth, revealing those perfect pink nipples. I take one already-stiff peak between my teeth and tug, making her squirm underneath me. When I pull back, she arches her chest as if she’s offering me her tits.
I chuckle. “That’s my greedy little whore.” I take her breasts into my hands and knead the soft mounds. “So fucking perfect,offering yourself to me even while you sleep.” Moving between one perfect breast and the other, I make sure to give both equal amounts of attention. Once I’m satisfied they’re both marked well, I lift her nightgown and trail my lips down her sternum before dipping my tongue into her belly button. Emily squirms as I explore the little divot, and I grin into her soft stomach.
So sensitive. So responsive.
Her silky panties are a barrier between me and what’s mine. I reach into my boot for my knife, palming the grip of my Ka-Bar. The leather hilt is familiar against my skin as I pull it free with a softshhhk—a sound I know too well. This blade is stained with a history of blood, but tonight it won’t taste flesh. I slice through her panties at both hips, the fabric parting like butter beneath the steel. My mouth waters the second her smooth mound is bared, my cock aching at the sight. When I lean in, her scent hits me—sweet, intoxicating—and I nearly groan with the need to feast.
Mine. Every soft inch. Nothing will keep me from claiming her.
I drag my tongue from the bottom all the way to the top, inhaling her sweetness.Fuck. This is what I craved when I was dying of thirst in the desert. I spread her thighs wide, making room for my head, then seal my mouth around her clit and suck. God-damned heaven, right here between her legs.
My fingers drive into her heat before I even realize it, stretching her tightness for me alone. If she wakes, she’ll learn fast who owns this body.
I spread her wider, greedy for every inch of her, and lap her folds slowly and deliberately before flicking her clit with the tip of my tongue. She jolts in her sleep, a soft moan spilling from her lips, and my cock throbs like I’ve just taken fire.
Good girl. Even in dreams, you know you’re mine.
I seal my mouth over her again and suck harder, drawing her swollen bud between my teeth, tugging just enough to make her hips roll against my face. My fingers curl inside her, stroking her from the inside while my tongue torments her from the outside, relentless, merciless.
She tastes like sin and salvation, sweet and raw on my tongue.
Her thighs quiver against my jaw, her pussy tightening like a fist around my fingers, and I know she’s close. She’s so close I can feel it pulsing through her, her whole body begging to break. My chest rumbles with a growl that vibrates through her clit as I suck her harder, determined to drink down every last shudder of her release.
“Come on, sweetheart,” I murmur against her clit, my words muffled by the wet heat of her flesh. “Give it to me.”
I curl my fingers inside her, hitting that spot over and over while I suck her clit deep into my mouth, hard enough to make her arch. Her moan cuts through the quiet like a fucking hymn, her hips bucking helplessly into my face.
Then she shatters.
Her cunt clenches down on my fingers, wetness spilling as her body bows off the bed, her cry strangled but beautiful. I don’t stop—I lap at her, drink her down, devour every last tremor until she’s twitching beneath me, spent and wrecked.
Only then do I pull my mouth away, dragging my fingers out slowly, coated in her slick. I suck them clean one by one, groaning low in my chest at her taste.
Mine. Every sound, every shiver, every drop. All fucking mine.
I kneel on the bed and take my cock out of my pants. Gifting her this first orgasm from me has me teetering on the edge, like that moment before my finger depresses the trigger on my 110. My dick is rock hard in my hand, the slickness from Emily’spussy smoothing the glide of my fist against the throbbing flesh as I stroke myself faster and faster, my eyes locked on the hole I just fucked with my fingers, still clenching with the aftershocks of her orgasm.
My balls draw up tight, a tingle racing down my spine before I throw my head back with a groan. As I erupt, I look down at my target—pearly streaks of cum marking her clit and lips, dripping toward the hole begging for my load. I never miss.
A gasp jerks my gaze to her face. She’s awake, wide-eyed, frozen like a doe in headlights.
My girl. Mine.
I drop my head, still panting, and spot the knife I discarded earlier. A slow grin curls my lips, dark and sharp. No. I’m not leaving yet.
8
EMILY
I’m in the costume my stalker gave me. Killian. The material clings to my curves, barely covering anything under the heavy, modest hooded cloak. I feel beautiful. More than beautiful, I feel powerful, like I can bring this formidable figure to his knees by tugging on the laces of the corset.
I know he’s watching me—he’s always watching me. I spin in a slow circle, letting the coat fall to the floor in a puddle of fabric. Moving my hands up my torso, I pretend they’re his. They’re probably callused, a real man’s hands, with long, strong fingers.
I throw my head back, squeezing my breasts, feeling the wetness gather between my legs. I feel like I could come just from thinking about him watching me.
