Page 25 of Destined By Dragonblood
The gorgeous man still stared my way once the vehicle moved on, and my mouth dried as the moisture in my body pooled between my thighs. I pressed my legs together, hoping to relieve the sudden, pulsing ache. Heart thrumming, I took in his dark blond hair and strong jawline, wishing like hell I could make out the color of his eyes.
A filthy dog sat at his feet, head tipped while peering up at the man, tongue wagging—almost smiling it seemed from that distance.
The man absently rubbed the animal’s head with gentle strokes.
Surely if a dog wasn’t fearful of his looming presence, he couldn’t be that bad of a person.
My hand itched to wave, to motion the stranger across the street to join me, but I knew better. Initiating was a thing from my past, something I would never do again.
Tearing my focus off the man and his dog didn’t come easily. My chest ached and breaths came choppy from trauma’s reminder. For fifteen minutes, I wished him away. For fifteen minutes more, I longed for him to approach. Flitting my gaze out the window on occasion allowed me to find him squatted beside the dog he held against his chest, but his focus was still on me.
Or, the cafe, at least.
A quiet ding from my cell reminded me it was time to face the cold for another walk that would lead to warmth and the chance to find relief from the lust burning throughout my body.
Shaking, I cleaned up my dinner things and stepped out onto the sidewalk, expecting to sense both stalkers. No trace of the one that instilled fear remained, thank goodness.
The man who had flooded me with desire no longer stood across the street, but the warmth of his presence continued to caress my face. His dog sat unmoved, peering up at the building behind him.
I swiveled my head side to side, looking for the man, feeling as though his disappearance had caused a piece of me to be stripped away and tossed far into the ocean. Where had he gone? Had I been wrong in thinking he’d been the one following me?
Swallowing back disappointment yet still thrilled I felt my comforting stalker’s presence, I turned and hurried northward through the cold.
Nose half-frozen, I pushed into the lobby of the building housing Master’s club.
The good eyes followed me, and I hid my smile by ducking my head while climbing onto the first elevator empty of those ready to leave the sky rise.
Other people pressed in to stand in front of me, and the stare of my stalker continued to warm me even though no one had given me a second look before turning to face the doors. We sped upward, people exiting one by one until I stood alone.
Every inch of my body tingled with awareness.
I sensed another presence, but my eyes assured me no one rode the elevator with me. Deceit at its finest. Or perhaps I was losing my mind.
“Who are you?” I whispered, refusing to believe the latter.
Of course, no one answered, nor had I expected a voice to reply.
Blowing out a heavy exhale, I straightened and faced the doors as the elevator slowed.
An exhale over my nape caused a shudder to ripple through me, and I squeezed my thighs tight as a whimper slid past my parted lips.
Want.
The word whispered through my mind, a perfect description for the ache in my body. Never had I ever desired physical touch so much in my entire life. My skin burned for contact, my core pulsing around emptiness that needed to be filled.
The door slid open, and I forced myself forward into the club’s entryway.
Lust followed, hot on my heels, and I shivered, thankful my stalker hadn’t left me.
I took my time in the women’s locker room, stripping out of my work clothes until I stood completely naked. My breaths came in pants as my insides jittered and fluttered like butterflies on crack. Swallowing hard, I glanced around the open room, taking note of a few other women in states of undress. No tall blond in a gray coat watched from the shadows, no hulking figure leaned against a wall, arms crossed, intense stare soaking me in even though I could feel him.
Every inch of me wished for him to be real.
I wanted him to follow me into Master Vanni’s domain, to watch how I found release. Clenching my eyes shut, I fought off an instinctive desire to be owned by him—a complete stranger, a creepy yet hot-as-hell stalker my body had no business being turned on by. My pussy dripped over the image of the man etched into my brain.
But part of me longed for Master Vanni as well. Something deep-seated from having bonded with him through our scenes. When I fantasized over him laying his bare hand on me, even more wetness roused, and I bit my lower lip to keep from whimpering.
I needed my master.
