Page 128 of Fixation
Which is why I’m late. Why I’m here now, listening to her light footsteps padding down the stairs. Watching her shadow move through her home.
Watching her shadow move inside her home.
My muscles tense in anticipation. Anyone passing by could see my cock straining in my scrubs.
I was deep inside Harper’s tight pussy a few hours ago, and it’s as if I’ve never been there at all.
The closer she gets, the more my body prepares to take her.
My skin is tight over my muscles. My ribs expand to fit the size of my heart. It’s pounding hard to a savage beat.
She’s in there, less than a foot away.
“Harper.”
What a beautiful sound, to have her scream for me.
Her terror does unthinkable things to my head. My sanity slips.
The need to pick her lock like I’ve done dozens of times and take her physically hurts. The pounding in my ears is excruciating. The itch of my fingers won’t go away.
Having control over her body would soothe the beast in me. But it’s her mind I’m interested in playing with today.
“Harper, enough.”
My command works. Harper is quiet, as if I have my hand on her mouth.
Her silhouette stays in place.
She’s waiting for me. My God.
“Harper. Open the door.”
A second of hesitation, then—“No. No.”
“Yes.” With my palm on the glass, I feel her. Enough to know that her heart beats loudly. That she’s a mess.
That this game turns her on.
“You can’t keep doing this to me.” Her voice is shaky. “You—I’m losing my mind, Anderson. You helped me when I was sick. I’m not sick anymore. Why do you keep stalking me? Why are you doing this? Can’t we be normal?”
This is another version of herwhy mequestion.
It has me slamming my hand on the glass, hard.
Who else? Who the fuck else?
“This is what we have, Harper. For better or worse.” It’s the simplest way to put it.
“I’m turning into this person I don’t recognize,” she whispers. The shape of her shadow grows as she comes closer. “You’re a good man, and you’re the worst. It’s wrong to want you. It’s wrong to be okay with the things you’ve done to me.”
I won’t tell her to open the door. To give me her mouth.
To see if she’d been a good girl, or if she washed me from her thighs. Her pussy. I already have the answer to that. The muted sound of water rushing through pipelines earlier gave her away. My cum isn’t dripping down her thighs.
That’s okay.
I’ll punish her for it.
