Page 73 of Stalk Me

I nod and nudge my hips up to encourage him.

“Holy shit.” His voice is ragged, strained. “You feel amazing.”

Then his lips are on my throat, hot and desperate, and the rest of the world falls away.

I dig my nails into his back, using them to hold myself steady as he slowly starts pumping, savoring every second. His dick feels heavy inside me, hot and thick and aching, and I squeeze around him with every thrust just to hear him moan.

“God, Luna,” he groans, burying his face in my neck. “I’m not going to last long.”

“That’s okay.” I tangle my hands in his hair and meet his rhythm, arching into him. He fills me perfectly, moving inside me with a certainty that I’ve never experienced before.

Everything about this is different—and it isn’t the fear of intimacy or the demons of my past that finally make me able to do this. It’s Erik. It’s how he listens, how he cares, how he looks at me like he truly believes that I’m more than the sum of what was done to me.

“Luna,” he gasps, his thrusts becoming erratic. “I’m close.”

In response, I dig my heels into the small of his back and tip my head up to kiss his throat. “Come for me,” I murmur, teeth grazing his skin. “It’s okay.”

“Aah.” He makes a strangled noise, and then his cock throbs, and heat floods between my legs, and the look of pure ecstasy on his face is so intoxicating that I decide right then I never want to forget it.

He groans as I shift under him, supporting himself with his forearms as he rolls off to lie beside me. He brushes sweat-soaked hair from his face, his breathing gradually slowing.

I turn my head on the pillow, enjoying the way the lamplight casts shadows across his bare chest.

“How are you?” he asks when he can speak again. “Was that okay?”

“That was amazing,” I murmur. “Best I’ve ever had.”

He laughs but can tell the compliment is sincere. “High praise.”

“You deserve it,” I say, running my fingers through his hair. “I thought sex was supposed to be awful, but you…” I trail off, too overcome to finish the sentence.

His expression softens, growing more serious. “There’s nothing awful about sex when it’s with a person you love. When it’s about mutual pleasure instead of power.”

“I think I’m finally starting to understand that.”

“You’re so strong, Luna,” he says softly. “I knew it the moment I met you.”

I shake my head, looking away. “That wasn’t me. That girl was… broken. Not strong.”

He rolls onto his side, meeting my gaze. “It was you,” he corrects gently. “That girl is who you are. Every version of yourself, even the wounded parts.”

I consider what he said, checking in with myself in the way Dr. Marshall has taught me. My body feels relaxed, content. My mind is quiet for once, not racing with fears or memories. “I think you’re right,” I answer truthfully. “I feel… different. Better. Present. Like I’m fully in my body for the first time in years.”

“That’s good.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “You deserve to feel that way all the time.”

“It won’t always be like this,” I warn him, practicality asserting itself. “I’ll have bad days too.”

“I know.” His arms tighten around me, secure but not confining. “And I’ll be here for those days too. All of them.”

I lift myself up on one elbow to look at him, struck again by the openness of his expression. “How do you do that? Just… accept everything without question?”

“It’s not without question,” he assured. “I have plenty of questions. I worry about you. I worry about us. But I’ve never doubted whether you’re worth it, Luna. Not once.”

Tears prick my eyes again, but these aren’t the desperate, fearful tears I’m used to. These feel different—cleansing, almost. “I used to think love was just another way to control people,” I confess. “A weapon my parents used to keep me in line.”

“And now?” Erik brushes a tear from my cheek with his thumb.

“Now I think maybe it’s the opposite.” I catch his hand, pressing it against my face. “Maybe real love is what gives you the strength to break free.”

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