Page 27 of Stalk Me

Just like that, my walls are crashing down around me, flooding me with pent-up sexual desire. I close my eyes and remind myself this isn't real. None of this is real. And whatever happens now, with Max or any other guy here, is for me and no one else. I need this. But more importantly, it has to mean nothing.

Max pushes inside me, and my body tenses. He's thick, stretching me almost too much.

Almost.

My breath catches. The thrusts come harder and deeper as we devour each other's lips and tongue. His grip on my wrists tightens, and he pins me harder against the wall. I tighten my legs around him, pulling him deeper, and a breathy moan escapes him. It sends an animalistic rush through me to hear him respond, knowing his desire is heightening from our fucking. It's a welcome distraction from all the emotions I feel pulsing through me. A distraction, not an escape.

"Fuuuuck," Max groans.

Goose bumps rise on my skin at his deep, guttural voice. My body's warm and wet, and I bite back a whimper as he continues pounding his full length into me. Max speeds up his pace, throwing his head back and leaning in to slam against the same spot over and over. Tiny ripples form in my stomach, and I know the end is near.

I crane my neck up and nip his bottom lip, craving the taste of blood on my tongue. But he jerks back at the last moment. There's something in his eyes that was never there before—something wild and untamed. Something violent. My inner walls squeeze down on him as a wave of fear and excitement floods me. But all I can focus on is the delicious mix of pain and pleasure building within me, how the sparks are about to turn into an explosion.

Max reaches between us with his free hand and circles his thumb on my clit while his hips move in fast, deep thrusts, pushing me over the edge. I stop holding back and release a loud cry, shaking violently as an orgasm rips through me.

At the same time, Max's body goes tense. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!" he chants in my ear, biting my neck. Hard. My orgasm fades, slowly this time. Max's limbs tremble and he slumps over me, pinning me more than he already was. An uncomfortable buzz goes off in my brain at the restriction in movement, but thankfully, it only lasts a second or two before he pushes off the wall and slowly steps back.

I slide to the ground, using the wall to support myself as I regain control of my legs and my mind. That was… nice. Our bodies were in perfect sync as we danced around each other, struggling for dominance and pleasure, an endless loop of violence and pleasure.

"Damn." He glances at his watch, and I smooth my blazer and straighten my skirt, adjusting the fabric so it covers the scratches on the insides of my thighs. "Where did you learn to fuck?"

"Are you really going to ask that question after what we just did?" My laugh comes out a bit shaky.

"Fair point." He flashes his impish smile again. "Hey, what do you think about hooking up again later today?"

"Hate to break it to you, but you're just not good enough to make it to the second round," I lie. It was nice, but he's no one. He's just a distraction. A release of all these hidden secrets and anger.

Max's face darkens. He grabs my wrists, his grip tightening as he pins them above my head and grinds himself against me. The pressure sends panic shooting through my veins, burning away the chemical haze. "Just what game do you think you're playing, bitch?"

"Let me go," I order, but my voice comes out as shaky as my knees. "You're hurting me."

"Come on, Luna," he growls, misinterpreting my resistance as teasing. "Everyone knows you like it rough. Belle told us all about your little games."

The words hit like a slap. Of course Belle would spread rumors, twist my actions into something darker. But right now, I can't focus on revenge or power plays. All I can feel is trapped, suffocating under the weight of too many hands, too many demands.

"Get off me!" The words tear from my throat, raw and desperate. I thrash against his grip, no longer caring about maintaining control or keeping up appearances. The drugs turn my panic into something wild and uncontrollable, amplifying every sensation until I'm drowning in it.

Max finally seems to realize something's wrong. He releases my wrists, stepping back with confusion written across his features. "What the hell? I thought?—"

"Get out." My voice shakes, but there's steel beneath the tremor. When he doesn't move fast enough, I shove him hard enough to make him stumble. "Get the fuck out!"

He backs away, hands raised in surrender. "Jesus, you really are fucking crazy. Belle was right about you."

The door slams behind him, leaving me alone with the wreckage of my carefully constructed façade. The sound echoes through the storage room like a gunshot, making me flinch. My designer bag lies forgotten in the corner, its contents spilled across the floor like evidence at a crime scene. A tube of expensive lipstick rolls toward me, the same shade my mother always insists makes me look "presentable." The sight of it sends bile rising in my throat. My legs give out and I slide down the wall, wrapping my arms around my knees as the first sob tears free. The room won't stop spinning, and I can't tell if it's the drugs or the panic making it hard to breathe.

"Luna?" Erik's voice cuts through the chaos in my head. I look up to find him standing in the doorway, concern etched across his features. "What happened? I saw Max leaving?—"

"Don't." I try to stand, but my legs won't cooperate. The world tilts dangerously, and suddenly Erik's there, catching me before I can fall. His touch is different from Max's—gentle, steadying, asking nothing in return. It makes everything worse. "I can't… I can't…"

"Shh." He helps me sit back down, keeping a careful distance between us. Smart boy—he must see the wild look in my eyes, the way I'm barely holding myself together. "Just breathe. You're safe now."

A broken laugh escapes me. "Safe? There's no such thing as safe. Not here, not anywhere."

"Luna—"

"Don't pretend you care." The words come out sharp enough to draw blood. "I know what you really want. It's what they all want. To use me, to break me, to—" My voice cracks as another wave of dizziness hits. The drugs are still coursing through my system, making it impossible to maintain my usual walls.

Erik's expression hardens. "You're high."

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