Page 37 of Baked

I pretended to be asleep and tried not to move, but just then, he pushed it against me. He continued to rub his hard dick against my ass, his hands eventually trailing up my thigh and to my hip while the other slithered under my head. I couldn’t tell if he was awake or just really lost in his sleep.

Haze slowly pulled me closer as a faint moan came from behind me. His hand moved from under my head and made its way to my breast, squeezing it. I tried not to make a sound. I was petrified. Not because I was scared, but because my own body was reacting.

Haze nestled his face into my neck, and I knew he was awake. He moaned, using my body to entice his own. I could feel my nipples hardening and reacting to what he was doing. His fingers grazed them and he let out a low, vibrating growl that made my pussy ache.

Stay strong, Indi. Just stay strong.

Despite how wrong it was, I remained still, and I let him continue. I enjoyed it too much.

Haze lifted my shirt and pressed roughly into me, and I could feel how hard he was. His moans made my skin prickle, filling my ears as his fingers moved from my hip towards my pelvis. My heart began to beat rapidly. I knew if he touched me there, it would be game over. But I couldn’t stop him. It was too late for that. I simply had to endure.

Haze’s finger reached my clit as he began to massage it, pushing harder against it. I could feel his heart beating against my back as he moved between my folds and felt my wetness. “Fuck,” he breathed into my neck. He kissed my skin softly and entered me and I nearly died from how good it felt. He fingered me while grinding up against my ass, careful to not wake me. It wasn’t long before I felt my body try to tighten.

Fuck, no.

I was going to come if he didn’t stop. And if that happened, he’d know I was awake. Haze didn't let up. Instead, he moved faster, moaning and grunting. I was fucking done for. No, I was fucked. I was going to come all over his fingers, and then everything would just fall apart. Fuck.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned loudly. “No!” Haze swiftly rolled away from me as he began to come. I tried to force my own orgasm down, but I couldn’t, not while hearing him come so fucking hard. My hands gripped the sheets as I bit the pillow and I began to come alongside him, listening to his groaning.

Fuck! Oh fuck!

My body tightened as my pussy squeezed and contracted over and over, soaking my panties. My thighs pressed together as I tried to hide it, pretending to still be asleep. My heart raced, and I had to hold my breath to keep myself from panting loudly.

Haze stood, and I stiffened, listening as he walked around the room. His bedroom door opened, and I opened an eye to see the bathroom light on, followed by the sound of the shower. Reliefhit me and I exhaled, moaning faintly to myself, allowing myself to finish coming.

I waited a few minutes as my body relaxed before sneaking into my room and changing my panties. I was so fucking wet. I tossed the dirty ones aside and put a similar pair on before quietly sneaking back into his bed. Haze took a long shower and eventually returned, slipping back into the covers and falling asleep as if nothing happened. But it did.

TEN

INDI

It had beena couple days since I slept in Haze’s bed. We continued on as if nothing had happened, but I kept thinking about it. About him, my masked stalker, and Carter. My life had turned completely upside down, and I didn’t know which way was up.

I sat on the couch, eating a bowl of cereal, watching some shitty ass TV drama, when my phone lit up. I tried to ignore it, but it continued to buzz, again and again. “What the fuck?” I picked it up to see numerous messages flooding my inbox. I scrolled through, each one repeating the same thing over and over as my eyes began to water.

No. No, this can’t be real. This can’t be happening!

My phone buzzed again, and I saw an unread message fromhim. I tapped it and read it silently to myself.

Check the news.

My heart sank. I nearly knocked my bowl of cereal over as I grabbed the TV remote and switched channels to the local news. There, staring back at me, was a photo of Carter, and beneath it were the bold letters spelling out the same heartbreaking thing everyone has flooded my messages with.

Carter is dead.

I turned the volume up and listened as the reporter spoke. “The local man named Carter Harris was found dead earlier this morning by his housekeeper. Details on his death are yet to be released to the public as the victim’s well known and prominent family have now stepped in to ensure privacy during their time of grief. What we do know is his death is not from natural causes. According to the victim’s housekeeper, there were clear signs of a struggle. The police are working closely with the Harris family to ensure whoever is responsible is caught.”

“Oh my god. Carter.” I cried as I watched the screen pan to an aerial view of his home, police surrounding the large property. Yellow crime scene tape was all over the perimeter as people rushed in and out. Footage played of a stretcher being carried out his front door and I gasped. It was Carter’s body, bloodied and covered in a white sheet. “Oh my god.”

My phone buzzed again, and I noticed a new message from my stalker.

You’re welcome.

My face ran cold. I quickly typed a reply, speaking out loud, and I sent it. “Leave me alone.” He replied almost immediately.

Never. You’re mine.

“Fuck,” I whispered as I blocked him. I immediately went to Carter’s profile and searched his posts, praying it was all a mistake. But all I saw were comments of people mourning his death. Hundreds and hundreds of strangers were wishing his family well and leaving crying and broken heart emojis all over his posts. It made me sick. “Fuck!” I threw my phone down and cried.

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