Page 15 of Destined By Dragonblood
The third, fourth, and fifth scenes, Master Vanni and my growing trust in him had allowed me to find greater pleasure in the pain he gifted me. The last time we had scened together, he’d brought me to climax with a flogger and given me joy I’d never hoped to experience. Tears had coursed down my cheeks during aftercare, but he’d held me wrapped up in a blanket to keep our skin from touching, his deep, soothing voice like honey coating a sore throat. He’d also given me his private number and ordered me to reach out if I ever needed him.
Although we had learned ways of shutting off my mind in order to climax, I had yet to allow skin-on-skin contact, nor was I ready for penetration of any sort. Regardless of my forward progress, I feared such intimacy would send me spiraling back to that weekend I’d been tied up and used to fulfill a sick man’s fantasies.
Master Vanni and I were scheduled to meet tomorrow at his club, and the combined thoughts of my stalker and the expectation Master would set me free in just over twenty-four hours caused my core to throb.
I entered and stood impatiently in the elevator, waiting to arrive at the ground floor, my heart palpitating. Never had I looked forward to a Friday more.
People took too long exiting the elevator, and I grumbled my impatience in my mind while buttoning my coat closed against the impending winter evening awaiting me outside.
My stomach tightened as I stepped into the cold air, my gaze darting up and down the street. Barely able to breathe, I sought out the sense of being watched, waiting for pleasure to wash over me, turning my core to lava and easing the tension in my entire body.
Frigid shards of awareness lanced at me instead, freezing me in my tracks. Alarm skittered along my spine, threatening to loosen my bladder.
This feeling was distinctively opposite from what I’d become familiar with.
My instincts screamed at me to flee the stare that had turned chilling, but what if he was a chaser? What if he had a predator kink and saw me as his prey?
A shudder rippled through my body, leaving my core dry as a desert. Alarming red flags raised and snapped inside my mind, causing me to shrink into myself in desperation to hide.
My throat tightened as I pretended to fix my coat’s collar while discretely glancing around. People brushed past me where I stood in the middle of the sidewalk, the right side of my face burning like ice pellets slashed at my cheeks. Stomach tight, I swallowed hard and fully turned my focus northward, needing to face my stalker rather than run.
A dark shadow a block away drew my attention like a beacon but slipped into the alleyway.
Immediately, the sixth sense of uncomfortable awareness dissolved, allowing me to draw breath. My lingering discomfort insisted I move. Turning in the opposite direction, I hurried for the subway entrance, chin tucked to my chest, ready to escape the bustling crowd of people and hide away in my condo.
What happened since that morning when I’d sadly entered work and left my sweet stalker’s stare behind? Had his seemingly harmless thoughts toward me turned violent? Were intentions developing in his mind that went beyond attraction and longing from afar?
Warmth caressed my face, and a recognizable shiver of awareness slid over my skin. My skin pebbled as heat kindled between my thighs. My lungs opened fully, allowing oxygen to flow freely.
There he was.
The familiar sense I’d been looking forward to, the same one that had accompanied me to and from work for a week.
Were two men watching me?
I lifted my focus directly ahead from where I could sense the good eyes, but no one seemed to pay me any mind. No orbs stared at me from the backs of heads. No person craned their neck to meet my gaze while making their way deeper into the bowels of the city.
I considered the idea of a second man’s gaze pinned on me while slipping beneath Manhattan’s streets for the subway. Whoever had been waiting outside my work was definitely not the man who made me feel protected and instilled a craving for physical fulfillment rather than release brought on by pain.
Rather than making me feel like a bug beneath a telescope, my stalker’s study caused arousal to dampen my panties, and I bit the inside of my lip to keep from moaning in my desire for his touch. My insides purred as I waited for my train and continued my search for what felt like warm sunshine on my face.
No one within sight seemed to give two shits about the petite woman hunkered in her coat along with the others anxious to leave the workday behind, but I swore someone did.
Somewhere.
I couldn’t wait to meet with Doctor Hasslet to share with him what I’d been experiencing. Perhaps he would think the broken parts of my mind caused my body to respond to an imaginary presence, but until that time, I would gladly partake in what could very well be fantasy.
Telling myself I had imagined the bad set of eyes, I focused on the daydream of the good eyes drinking in the vision of me. He appreciated my lack of makeup, something I’d given up in the after. The less I did to draw attention to myself, the safer I felt.
Rumbling grew, the clack of metal wheels on tracks announcing my ride drew close.
The warmth of his presence followed me through the opened doors of the train once it stopped, and I continued to experience arousal yet comfort from his nearness. I swore he stood inches away, perhaps breathing my scent deeply into his nose, but neither the teenaged kid with a backpack or the thirty-something businessman flanking me indicated interest in the woman sharing space with them. People sat directly behind me with barely any room between their knees and my legs, and another glance over the three in close proximity showed two wrapped up in their phones, the third with her nose in a book.
I turned back around to face the doors, sighing that I couldn’t see who affected me like this. Perhaps my brain had invented this stalker as a coping mechanism or distraction?—
An exhale ghosted over my nape, and I spun, jostling against the legs of the elderly woman behind me. She glanced up from her cell.
“Sorry,” I murmured, my face heating, before facing forward.
