Page 17 of Savage Stalkers
“Building maintenance is surprisingly easy to bribe,” I murmur, sliding the key into the lock. The door opens silently, as I made sure to drop oil on the hinges last week during one of my surveillance visits. We slip inside, and I ease the door closed behind us.
The apartment layout is identical to ours, only mirrored, and I know every creak or spot that will give us away. We move through the living room, past Macey’s bedroom, then sneak toward the back, where Skye’s door is slightly ajar.
I push it open wide enough for us to slip through, then close and lock it behind us. Skye lies curled on her side, one bare shoulder visible above the covers.
I reach into my jacket and pull out the purple glow mask. Beside me, Zay does the same. The masks are custom-made—with voice modulators built in and completely untraceable. Another of my more useful skills.
Zay’s mask flickers to life, while I stand hidden in the dark shadows of the corner of her room.
Skye stirs, and I look at Zay and nod. Time to give the girl exactly what she asked for. Zay moves to the bed, and the mattress dips as he climbs onto her bed. He lowers his weight over her, and my pulse spikes as his hand presses across her mouth. Her eyes fly open, and a muffled sound breaks against his palm.
I stay in the corner, hidden, but I can’t look away. The scene plays out like one of my fantasies dragged to life. Her fear, her body tensing under him—it’s like static in my veins. Watching Zay touch her like this feeds every dark craving I’ve buried, every obsession I’ve let fester, and I fist my hands in restraint. Part of me wants to be the one with my hand over her mouth; I want to feel her trembling undermyweight. Instead, I watch. When we’re together for the first time, I want it to be perfect. She willfeel me under her skin, my eyes on her, never knowing when I will come out of hiding.
Chapter Eight
Skye
A hand covers my mouth, and a heavy weight pins me against my bed. Instinct takes over before my brain can catch up. I thrash, kicking beneath the sheets, my screams muffled behind his palm. My heart hammers against my ribs, and I try to twist, but his body is solid, pinning me down with ease.
“Calm down,”he growls, but it’s distorted through the modulator in his mask.
At once the tension drains from my body. I stop fighting and still.
“That’s better,”he murmurs, and before I can react, he flips me onto my stomach. My cheek hits the pillow, and my legs spread automatically as he yanks the blankets down.
His hand moves down my back, his fingers skimming my spine slowly. That is until he slips them between my legs, then he slides them deep inside me. I gasp into the pillow, the stretch of his fingers stealing my breath. He fucks me with them like he’s testing exactly how ready I am for him. The answer is obvious—I’m soaked, dripping down his hand.
The sound of a zipper is all I hear before, a second later, he thrusts into me hard. I scream, the sound bursting from my lungs, but he presses my head deeper into the pillow, muffling me.
Oh shit, he feels ribbed! He... has his cock pierced.
Then a second man steps out from the corner of my room, and I gasp as the glow of his mask turns on.
“Has anyone ever fucked you in the ass before?”the first man asks, but I can’t take my eyes off the other man as he moves closer.
“No,” I answer honestly.
“He is going to come on your ass, and then I am going to use it to finger your hole while I fuck you.”
The second masked man undoes the zipper on his pants.
Behind me, the first man yanks the elastic from my hair. My scalp prickles as his fingers tighten in the strands, and he wraps them around his fist. He jerks my head back until my eyes are forced up, my throat stretched tight.
“Look at his cock,”he says.“See how hard he is for you? You did that. You’re his obsession.”
The man in front of me draws his thick, hard cock out, and his fingers wrap around the base. My breath catches in my throat, and I try to swallow.
“Thank him,”the man behind me growls.“He saw you first. He chose you. And now he’s sharing you with me.”
My lips part on a gasp. I have never been vocal during sex; it’s always been a means to an end. To get off before they do. “Thank you for noticing me.”
He doesn’t speak, just moves closer until the tip of his cock brushes my lower lip. I keep my eyes on his mask while the man behind me tightens his grip on my hair, keeping my head back and at their mercy.
“Open your mouth,”he says.
I do.
The man in front of me strokes himself slowly, his head bent, so I know he is watching me. He doesn’t let me take him in my mouth as he works his shaft, but remains close enough that the tip of his cock keeps brushing against my parted lips. The man behind me begins slow thrusts in and out, teasing me, making me need more.
