Page 41 of Prey

He had been watching me.

For months now.

How could I not know?

Not have any sort of inkling that there were eyes on me?

And the fact that I was even confused about how I should be reacting to this revelation said more about me than it did about him.

I should be disgusted.

It should feel like my skin was crawling wherever he touched me, not heat that seemed to ignite from the very core of me, making me want to get closer to him, and closer still, until all that was left was a girl who had become an extension of his body.

I closed my eyes, not from the terrible image on the screen as the monster came out to play, but over the horror of my thoughts, over the lust I felt with the devil sitting right beside me.

He grabbed my hand, and I jumped.

“Alright?” he asked. “Too scary?”

He thought I closed my eyes because of the film.

Mutely, I nodded.

He pulled me closer to his body, letting my head rest on his chest.

His lips found the top of my head, and he kissed it softly, tightening his arms around me.

I tried to shake away my thoughts and focused back on the film.

Twenty minutes later, the credits rolled, and I couldn’t figure out if the movie had a happy ending or not.

I couldn’t even remember the protagonist’s name, so it was good he didn’t talk about the movie.

He stood up and held his hand out to me.

I placed mine in his automatically and let him pull me to a standing position.

I guessed, in some way, I did trust him.

He pulled me back into the bedroom, and my heart jumped at the sight of the bed. I had him this morning, and still, I craved him.

I had felt the reminder of him between my legs all morning, even after showering together. The feel of him moving inside of me stayed firmly etched to my very core, and I didn’t think it would go away any time soon.

I grimaced.

He didn’t wear protection.

I really needed to remember to ask him to put on protection before anything happened again.

The chances of me getting pregnant right now were low but not impossible. I couldn’t figure out if Roman was purposely “forgetting” to put a condom on.

He sat me down on the edge of the bed, and I looked up at him, trying to keep from showing too much on my face.

He pressed his hands down on my shoulders until I was lying with my back on the bed, my legs hanging over the edge.

My heart felt like it was trying to claw its way up my throat, and I could only lie there and watch him.

“Be a good girl and stay like this for me, yeah?”