Page 10 of Obsessive Stalker

“Don’t call me a slut,” I reply through clenched teeth. “I don’t carehowyou say it. I don’t like it, and I never fucking will.”

His lips reach mine and he kisses me softly, merciful even though his hand between my legs isn’t, his tongue caressing mine.

He pulls away but keeps his face inches from mine, his eyes glowing down at me.

“Fair enough, kitten,” he says. “I won’t use that word for you ever again. Your wish is my command.”

He pushes further inside of me, deeper than ever, while his thumb strokes my clit much like before in the lake house, quick circles that send me right back to the peak of pleasure.

“And to make it up to you, I’ll even allow you to come,” he breathes, his voice deep and smooth like velvet. “Go on. I know you need it. Show me how good it feels to be owned by me.”

I can’t help it. I do exactly as he says, as though my body is on strings, a puppet for him to play with. My moans are muffled by Damien’s free hand clamping over my mouth. I scream behind his fingers in ecstasy, and in that moment, Idofeel owned.

I feel completely and utterly owned by this man.

5

Damien

Kristen tastes sosweet that it takes all the restraint I have to pull away from her after she climaxes, returning to my seat and licking the juice from my fingers instead of devouring her whole the way I want to, burying my face between her legs and making her scream like she did just now, again and again and again.

“Where’s Hazel?”

“Who?”

“My best friend,” Kristen says. “The one you kidnapped a month ago to get back at your stupid drug dealing buddy.”

“Right,” I say. “I don’t know where Hazel is. I haven’t made contact with her since she escaped and rode off into the sunset with dear old Vince.”

There’s no bitterness in my voice. I spent so many years believing that Vincent was my enemy, that he was responsible for the demise of my brother. When the truth is, my brother fled the country on his own, a coward with his tail tucked between his legs, leaving a mess behind for therealmen – Vince and me – to clean up.

“I owe Hazel an apology,” I continue. “She and her fiance each, after the inconvenience I caused them last month.”

“Inconvenience?” she replies. “Is that what you’d call this, too? Kidnapping me from my bed and taking me away from everyone I know?”

“Darling, you were already separated from everyone you know,” I say to her. “Isolated and locked inside like an animal. I didn’t do that; your father did.”

“Because of you,” she insists. “Because he had to hide me fromyou.”

We’ve been driving for about an hour now, further into rural California. The roads have become narrow and unpaved, without lights to guide our way. Cloaked beneath darkness except for the headlights. Our car is flanked by two others, in front of us and behind.

I’ve taken every precaution, protecting Kristen better than I protect myself most of the time, even during my trip south to locate my piece of shit brother.

Because until I figure out Martin Redding’s motive for enabling such an easy capture of his daughter, I can’t afford to be careless.

When we pull up to the makeshift helicopter pad, located in a clearing among the trees that belongs to a friend who owes me a favor, I pause before getting out of the car. Waiting for the gunfire, for the ambush that I fully anticipate will come.

But it doesn’t.

The driver lowers the partition between his seat and ours.

“They’re saying it’s all clear,” he says without turning his head. “Redding still in Seattle, his wife en route to San Francisco as expected.”

“You’re following my parents?” Kristen gasps next to me.

“And the others?” I ask, ignoring her.

“They still think you’re in Brazil,” he replies. “Still searching for you there. We’ve got a decoy. Tomorrow he’ll travel north to Venezuela. As it is now, they’ve only got two agents on this case.”

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