Page 176 of Love Me Stalk Me
It's two strokes.
Maybe three.
And I'm done.
I groan, head tipping back, my fingers tightening in her hair, my entire body locking up as pleasure crashes through me.
She doesn't stop.
Her fingers keep stroking, like she's memorizing the way I feel in her palm. My cock jerks in her grip, spilling over her perfect fucking tits, painting her skin in thick, hot ropes of my release.
I thought that would be enough.
I thought that would be the thing to finally wreck me, to leave me breathless and spent and unable to think straight.
I was wrong.
Because then?—
She does it.
She drags herfingers through it.
Slow. Unbothered.
Like it's natural.
Like she was meant to be covered in me.
She lifts them to her lips, and tastes me. My jaw locks, my chest tightening, my entire body going so fucking tense I might snap in half. The room narrows, time slows, my vision focused solely on her.
Naked.
Kneeling before me.
Mine.
Her lips part slightly, tongue flicking out, swiping over the tip of her finger. Her eyes are big, her breathing unsteady, her mouth pink and swollen from kissing me, her tits still slick with my release.
She smirks.
Fucking smirks.
A tiny, self-satisfied, wicked little thing, her eyes glinting up at me, fully aware of the effect she has on me.
She knows how possessive I feel in this moment.
She understands the primal claim she's staked by accepting my mark on her skin.
She recognizes that my restraint is hanging by a thread—that if I wasn't committed to taking this slowly, I'd have her spread out beneath me again, licking my own come off her skin, kissing it back into her mouth, and making her take me deep and desperate.
I exhale, gritting my teeth, dragging my gaze over her, forcing my cock to stop twitching at the sight.
I don't blink.
I don't look away.
I just stare her down.
