Page 13 of Stalker

Not in his expressions.

Not in his body.

And certainly not in the way he touched me.

I’d barely managed to lock the door and drop my purse on the small entrance foyer floor when he was all over me, crushing his full body weight against mine as he captured my mouth. He pushed me against the wall with enough force that I knew he’d make good on his promise.

And dear God, I wanted him to.

As he swept his tongue inside, the cool, refreshing hint of vodka was almost as powerful as his rugged scent. His kiss was almost violent, so needy that my breath was stolen, the earth rumbling beneath my feet.

His huge hands roamed my body, sliding up and down my sides as I shifted back and forth. The friction created only added to the spark, the building firestorm something I’d never experienced.

It was such a rush that I saw stars even though my eyes were closed. His hunger knew no bounds, every sound he made guttural as if he was consuming me. Even though I longed to feel his hot flesh, to have the touch sear my fingertips, he wasn’t allowing me any traction. The kiss was so wild, so explosive that I couldn’t think straight.

Not that I wanted to.

This was everything I craved and nothing I needed.

At least not with a stranger.

But it was so good, so filthy and decadent that I immediately lost myself in the moment. When he sucked on my tongue, I issued a harsh moan. Not from fear of anything he would do, but from the building excitement.

He pulled me away from the wall just enough so he could wrap his hands around my bottom, squeezing both cheeks as he ground his cock between my legs. He was huge. There was no doubt the man was well endowed. The flicker of lights in my mind increased until every fleck was in a colorful hue.

When he finally came up for air, breaking the rough moment of intimacy, he nipped my bottom lip and pushed himself off the wall.

“Do you like the way I touch you, little butterfly?”

“Yes.” The answer was so simple. So easy.

“Do you hunger for me to devour you?”

“Oh, God, yes.”

“Good girl.”

Why were those two little words so thrilling?

With only the light of the moon streaming in from the frosted panes of glass bordering the door, I was barely able to bask in the glory of the man. Yet I wanted him naked.

I tried again, shoving his suit jacket over his shoulders. He allowed me the small gesture, even tugging the coat off his arms and pitching it to the floor, but after that, he resumed control. Within seconds, he’d removed my jacket, tugging on my blouse and nearly ripping the buttons before managing to slide the silky material from my shoulders.

But he didn’t stop there, deftly unfastening my bra. As soon as my breasts were free, he sucked in his breath in a way that caused him to whistle. I was aware he said something but had no clue what it was. My mind was too foggy to think clearly about anything.

He cupped my breasts, immediately flicking his fingers back and forth across my nipples. They were already so hard, so sensitive that I moaned in response.

“So fucking beautiful,” I did hear him say just seconds before he pinched both hardened buds.

How long had I dreamt of a man taking me forcefully, issuing rounds of pain countered with bouts of pleasure? Too long. I’d never thought I’d experience something so incredible but with every tingling sensation, my pussy throbbed even more.

There were several emotions running through me as he bent his head, sucking first on one nipple then the other. Anger. Hatred. Giddiness. Lust.

Lust won out, obliterating everything else.

He bit down with enough force I jumped, lolling my head against the wall. His forcefulness continued as he unzipped my skirt, taking my thong along with the soft material to the floor. Even though it was dark, all I could think about was being grateful I’d worn matching underwear.

I laughed to myself. I doubted he would care at this point.

---