Page 26 of Stranger Session

His hands land on my shoulders and push me onto my knees. I come face to face with my drawing as he lifts thehem of his shirt to undo his jeans. I scrutinize it at this level. I wish I’d cleaned up the line work, but how was I supposed to know it would end up immortalized on his body?

His fingers wind through my hair, then he squeezes, sending a bolt of pleasurable pain through my scalp. “Taste your nightmare, venti.”

His nickname for me warms me. My nickname for him sets me on fire.

“My nightmare,” I repeat before he shoves his cock past my lips.

His dick feels familiar in my mouth, as if I could point it out in a crowd by feeling it inside me, even if I never saw his face. It’s him. The man I’ve given myself to. The man I’ve allowed to chase and hunt me. He’s embraced my misaligned kink and let me live it out through him. This cock is safety, even if he’s done some fucked-up things.

My nose taps my artwork as my head bobs lower, and I realize how amazing the art from my hand looks on his body. I’m connected to my muse in a mind-bending way, and I’ll never get my thoughts straightened out after this. His body is suddenly my mural, and I want to drip my pleasure onto it.

He holds my head still and takes control, and I gag on his cock as he fucks my throat. The piercing brushes the sensitive skin just past the back of my tongue. My eyes water, but I don’t stop him. I want him to use me.

He pulls his cock from my mouth and lifts me to my feet, and his hand wipes away the drool collecting on my chin.

“I want you inside me, nightmare,” I whisper as he cranes my neck and examines me.

“You want the man who stalked and hunted you inside your pretty little pussy?”

I bite my tongue and nod against his grasp.

“What you want has always been my command, venti.” He kisses me, and all of that fiery possession pours into my mouth as his lips spread on mine. He’s sucking my soul from my body with nothing more than his kiss.

He drags me toward my room, and I push down the nip of discomfort when he knows right where it is. He lays me down on the bed and goes to the bathroom. When he returns, he holds the bottle of moisturizer in his hand. I want to ask what it’s for, but then he begins to strip me and words escape my brain. Once I’m naked before him, he puts a bit of the moisturizer into his hand and rubs it into my cheeks, moving out until he’s reached my earlobes. I close my eyes and let out a breathy moan.

“Do you recognize that scent?” he asks as his fingertips massage my earlobes and send pleasure radiating through me.

“Strawberries,” I tell him.

“And?”

My closed eyes whip open. “And what?”

“Think about it. How does it smell as you’ve rubbed it on your perfect face every single day?”

My mind swirls. It has had a unique tinge of a scent, but do I even want to know? “What did you do to my lotion?”

His eyebrow rises, and a smirk crosses his face. “You’ve been rubbing me on you too.”

Rubbing him on me? What does he—Oh god. “Please tell me you didnotcome in my lotion!”

“Oh, I did. I wanted to be on you even when I couldn’t touch you. I wanted every single person who inhales that scent to smell me too.”

I push him away. “Del, I can’t believe you did that!”

“But you must like how I smell or you wouldn’t have kept wearing it.”

I did like how he smelled. I just didn’t know it was him. “What else did you do in my room? Did you touch me while I was sleeping?”

I will stab him with the pencil on the nightstand if he did.

“No, venti. As much as I wanted to, I wouldn’t do that to you. But when I saw you lying there, Ineededto come, and if I couldn’t touch you, I had to touch myself.”

“You didn’t need to touch yourself over my fucking lotion bottle!”

“Oh, I did. It was either that or my come was going on your body. I was being respectful,” he says.

“Respectful my ass,” I clip.

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