Page 19 of Stalked
“You're so beautiful,” he murmurs, lowering his head. “My perfect wildflower.”
The first touch of his tongue against me sends electricity shooting through my body. “Oh!” I cry out, unprepared for the sensation. My hands fly to his hair, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer.
Vane looks up at me, his eyes locked on mine as his mouth works against my most sensitive spot. The sight of him watching me while he does this is almost too much to bear. When he sucks my clit between his lips, my back arches off the bed.
“Vane!” I moan, louder than I intended. I can't help it—the pleasure is overwhelming. No one has ever touched me like this, and the feeling is more intense than anything I've experienced, even alone.
I can feel wetness between my legs, my body responding eagerly to his skilled mouth. It's embarrassing how quickly I'm falling apart, but I'm powerless to stop it. Vane groans against me, the vibration adding another layer to the sensation.
“That's it,” he murmurs against me. “Let me hear you, wildflower.”
Vane suddenly pulls back, his eyes dark with desire. I whimper at the loss of his mouth, propping myself up on my elbows to watch him. He stands at the edge of the bed, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as he unfastens his belt.
“Don't take your eyes off me,” he commands.
I couldn't look away even if I wanted to. My heart pounds as he unzips his pants and pushes them down his hips along with his boxers. His cock springs free, hard and thick, the tip glistening. My mouth goes dry at the sight of him.
“Oh,” I breathe, unable to form coherent thoughts.
Vane wraps his hand around himself, stroking slowly as he kneels back between my legs. “This is what you do to me, Lia,” he says, his eyes locking with mine. “I've been hard for you since the moment you walked down those stairs tonight.”
He lowers his head again, his tongue finding my clit while he continues to stroke himself. The visual of him pleasuring himself while tasting me sends a fresh wave of heat through my body. I can't tear my gaze away from his hand moving up and down his length.
“Vane,” I moan, my hips lifting toward his mouth. Knowing he's touching himself while going down on me makes everything more intense, more real. I feel a deep, hollow ache building inside me—a need I've never experienced before.
“I want...” I start, then hesitate, embarrassed by my own desire.
He lifts his head slightly. “Tell me what you want, wildflower.”
The nickname sends another rush of heat through me, making me bolder than I would have been otherwise.
“I want your cock inside me,” I say, feeling a rush of boldness.
A slow smile spreads across his face. He crawls up my body until we're face to face, his weight pressing me into the mattress.
“Such a good girl,” he murmurs against my lips, “but so impatient.” His voice is a mixture of amusement and desire. “I need to make you come first.”
He captures my mouth in a deep kiss that tastes faintly of me. The realization sends a wave of heat rushing through my body. His hand slides between us, fingers teasing my entrance.
“Vane, please,” I whimper against his mouth, arching toward his touch.
“Shh, I've got you,” he whispers, and then slowly slides two fingers inside me.
I gasp at the intrusion, my body tensing slightly before melting into the sensation. His fingers curl upward, finding a spot that makes my vision blur.
“I need to make sure you can take me,” he says, his voice husky as he watches my reactions. His thumb circles my clit while his fingers move in and out at a deliberate pace. “Need to make sure you're wet enough, relaxed enough.”
The dual sensations overwhelm me. I grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he increases his pace.
“That's it,” he encourages, his eyes never leaving my face. “Let go for me, wildflower.”
His fingers press deeper, stretching me most deliciously. The pressure inside me builds with each thrust of his hand, each circle of his thumb. I can feel myself getting wetter, my body preparing for what's to come.
“You're so tight,” he groans, adding a third finger that makes me cry out. “So perfect.”
Vane's thumb circles my clit with just the right pressure while his fingers curl upward, stroking that sensitive spot that makes my thighs tremble.
“Oh my god,” I gasp, my hips bucking against his hand.
