Page 7 of Stalk Me

Part of me wonders if I should stop. A night like tonight would only make me feel worse and offer nothing in return, but the rest of me needs to lose myself, even if it’s temporary.

“God, you’re hot,” Dougie whispers in my ear, trailing his lips down my neck. His fingers fumble with the buttons of my blouse. Once my chest is bare, he inhales sharply.

I lift his chin, pressing my lips against his once more, and then push his shoulders. Dougie lands on the bed, eyes wide, and I climb on top of him. I’m already wet—whether from the anticipation or the alcohol, I’m not sure. I pull my panties down with his help and kick them to the floor. Slowly, I climb on top of him, positioning my pussy above his face.

“Sit on it,” he breathes, sounding amazed.

I snicker. It’s pathetic, the amount of shit these guys would do if you gave them the chance. They’re so easily manipulated, but only because they enjoy pretending, deep down, not to care. What most people don’t realize is that these types only ever tell the truth when they’re thinking with their dicks—sometimes, not even then. The only honest moments in these people’s lives come when they’re in a blind haze, unable to hide behind fake smiles or layers upon layers of subterfuge.

“If you do it well, I might return the favor,” I tease, lowering myself against his mouth. A soft moan escapes me as his hot tongue darts out, grazing my clit. Pleasure explodes throughout my core, making me gasp. I take his thick brown hair in my fists, grinding on him and controlling the pace.

One arm moves from where it rests on my hip, creeping down until he can tease a finger inside. I yelp in surprise, the sensation setting off fireworks inside me.

He crooks his finger again, this time sending another wave of pleasure through me, and when his teeth graze my swollen clit, I shudder. My legs tremble from the exertion and his warm breath ghosts over me, adding to the heat building between my thighs. Every lick, every graze of his teeth sends sparks through my body until all the tension, all the anxiety, ebbs away under the delicious feeling.

I clench my thighs, bucking against his face, and Dougie slips his fingers free. Then, slowly, gently, his tongue enters me. It’s too much, and soon I’m crying out, everything around me disappearing except the rising pressure.

“Don’t you dare stop,” I breathe, lifting myself and then slamming back down again. “Fucking do it harder.”

My nails rake his hair, hard enough to draw blood. I wonder, vaguely, if the pain gets him off. Normally, it would. Right now, though, my only concern is getting myself off.

“Jesus, you’re amazing,” he breathes, swiping his tongue across my sensitive folds.

The buzz of the alcohol is beginning to wear off, and the strange sense of drifting settles back into the cold numbness. At least a few more hours with Dougie will hold off the ice and wind for just a bit longer.

Dougie’s tongue hits a particularly sensitive spot, and a pulse shoots through me, forcing everything else out. His name escapes my lips in a low moan, and my grip on his hair tightens.

“Yes. Come for me, gorgeous.”

He applies just the right amount of pressure with his hands and mouth to speed up my release. White-hot heat rises inside me, building and building until finally, it bursts. The world narrows until it’s only Dougie’s touch, his voice, his scent enveloping my every sense. My hips buck wildly, riding the tremors that rip through my body with each crest. Then, just as quickly as it began, the unrelenting waves of pleasure begin to recede.

Spent, I let myself relax, but the reprieve doesn’t last long. Dougie grabs me by the hips and throws me with my back against the bed. He climbs on me and without warning, thrusts his cock balls deep into my pussy.

My back arches, the sudden stretch followed by just enough pain to make me want to do it again. When I cry out, Dougie brings his lips to mine, tongue fighting its way into my mouth. He thrusts again and groans against my neck. Sweat drips from his forehead onto my neck and arms.

We kiss violently, tongues pushing against each other, teeth dragging along swollen lips. I smile as his large hands explore me, clawing at my breasts, my ass, anything he can get his fingers on. “Do it harder,” I groan. He slams into me again, hitting just the right angle. “There. Fucking pound me right there.”

“You like that?” He pushes down again, and a whine catches in my throat. The pressure is unrelenting, and soon, the pleasure is building again, an impending explosion. “Don’t stop, don’t stop. Right fucking there.”

“So wet. Your pussy feels fucking perfect, Luna,” he pants. As he shudders, his grip on me tightens.

Again, I open my mouth to respond, but he doesn’t let me speak. He swallows my moans, our tongues exploring each other’s mouths. Every nerve inside me burns, desperate for a reprieve.

His strokes become more frantic. Our breathing becomes ragged, heavy gasps of air pushed against one another’s mouths. All of the tension, all of the buildup crashes together, sending me hurtling toward the inevitable release. My moans blend with his, the only sounds loud enough to make sense. My muscles seize up and then, all at once, I lose myself.

Dougie thrusts into me again and again, his face contorting, the warmth of his cum filling me, and together we break apart, floating as one toward the ceiling. Gently, he lowers his body onto mine, our lips meeting in an explosive kiss.

After a moment, his ragged panting evens out and he rolls beside me. His heart beats in rhythm with mine, almost as if they’re dancing.

“You’re on the Pill, right?” he asks, not moving.

“I’m good,” I say, giving him a breathless smirk. He breaks into an easy grin, rolling to lie by my side. I give him exactly thirty seconds before pushing him away. He rolls to the side, watching through heavy-lidded eyes as I collect my clothes.

“That was—” he starts, but I cut him off.

“A one-time thing.” I button my shirt with steady fingers, not bothering to look for my underwear. Let him keep it as a souvenir. “Don’t expect a repeat performance.”

He props himself up on an elbow, confusion creeping into his post-orgasmic haze. “But I thought?—”

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