Page 20 of Stalked
“That's it,” he murmurs, his eyes locked on my face. “Let me see you come apart.”
He increases the pressure, the rhythm becoming more insistent. The sensation builds rapidly, far more intense than when I touch myself late at night, my face buried in my pillow to muffle any sounds. This is different—raw and uncontrollable.
“Vane, I'm—” I can't finish my sentence as waves of pleasure start to crash through me.
His fingers curl more firmly inside me, hitting that perfect spot with ruthless accuracy. At the same time, his thumb continues its relentless circles on my clit. My back arches off the bed as the orgasm hits me, an explosion that radiates from my core and floods every nerve ending. I cry out, not caring if I'm too loud.
“That's it, my wildflower. Let go for me,” he encourages, not slowing his movements.
I'm trembling around his fingers as the pleasure intensifies beyond anything I've ever felt alone in my bedroom. Where my own orgasms have always been quick, contained things, this feels endless—waves of sensation washing over me one after another. My vision blurs at the edges, and I'm clutching at his shoulders, his arms, anything to anchor myself as my body surrenders completely.
“Vane!” I gasp his name like a prayer, my nails digging into his skin.
He watches me, continuing to stroke me through each aftershock, drawing out the pleasure until I'm a quivering mess beneath him. I've never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, yet so powerful all at once.
Vane moves up my body, his skin sliding against mine in a way that makes every nerve ending light up. My breath comes in short gasps as his weight settles over me, pressing me intothe mattress. I can feel the aftermath of my orgasm still pulsing through me, my body hypersensitive to every touch.
“You're so fucking beautiful when you come,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire.
My hands slide up his back, feeling the ripple of muscles under his skin as he positions himself between my thighs.
The hard length of him presses against my center, hot and insistent. Even without him being inside me, the pressure of his cock against my sensitive flesh makes me whimper. I instinctively rock my hips, seeking more friction, more pressure—more of him.
“Please,” I breathe against his lips, surprised by my own desperation.
Vane’s green eyes meet mine as he grinds his hips in a slow, deliberate motion that drags his cock along my wetness. The sensation is exquisite torture.
“Tell me what you want, Lia,” he demands, his voice barely above a whisper.
“You,” I answer without hesitation. “I want you inside me. Now.”
He groans, pressing his forehead against mine as he continues to rock against me, teasing us both. Each movement sends sparks of pleasure through my oversensitive body. I wrap my legs around his waist, trying to pull him closer, silently begging him to stop teasing and finally take me.
I've never wanted anything—anyone—as badly as I want Vane Blackwood right now. The realization should freak me out, but all I can feel is this overwhelming need building inside me, threatening to consume me.
8
VANE
Lia's spread out beneath me, skin flushed and eyes half-lidded with pleasure. The sight of her like this—completely undone because of me—sends a surge of possessiveness through my veins. I've wanted this since we met. And now she's here, in my bed, her body still trembling from the orgasm I just gave her.
I position myself between her thighs, the head of my cock sliding against her slick entrance. The feeling nearly makes my eyes roll back, and it takes everything in me not to thrust inside her immediately.
“Are you ready?” I ask, my voice rough with restraint.
She looks up at me, those amber eyes filled with desire and a hint of anxiousness. “Yes,” she whispers.
I lean down, my lips brushing against her ear as I growl, “I'm going to fill that tight virgin cunt with my cum over and over tonight. Make sure you know exactly who you belong to.”
Her body suddenly tenses beneath me. Not the good kind of tension from before, but something else. I pull back to look at her face and see uncertainty cloud her expression.
“Wait,” she says, pressing a hand against my chest. “We need to use protection.”
A growl rumbles from deep in my chest. The thought of anything coming between us, even something as thin as latex, feels wrong. “I don't want anything between us, Lia. I want to feel all of you.”
Her eyes soften, but she doesn't back down. “We could... I could take a morning-after pill to be sure. But we need to be safe, Vane.”
The momentary frustration melts away as I look at her—smart, beautiful, and still thinking clearly even when I'm out of my mind with want for her. I press my forehead against hers, a smile tugging at my lips.
