Page 30 of The Stalker
And for once, I don’t fight him.Because he’s right.
She is mine.
Forever.
Chapter Twenty
Thomas
Bianka
The night is too still.
Too quiet after what he did to me, what I let him do, what I begged him to do.My body aches everywhere, my skin bruised, torn, raw, and filled in ways I didn’t think I’d ever allow.
And still I feel him inside me.Every pulse.Every tremor.
Griffin’s weight presses me into the dirt, his breath hot against the back of my neck, his arm locked around my waist like iron.He hasn’t moved, hasn’t let go, hasn’t slipped his cock out of me, not since he claimed me.
Claimed.That word stings.Because I came for him.Because I whispered I was his.
Because it’s true.
Tears slip hot and silent down my cheeks.I want to hate him.I want to hate myself more.But all I can feel is the heat still curling inside me, the hunger still aching for more.
A shift ripples through him.
His body jerks against mine, a shudder ripping down his spine.For a second his grip tightens so brutal my ribs scream, and then it slackens.
He exhales ragged, broken, and something cold slides out of him.I feel it.Not just in his body, but in the air.The shadows thicken impossible more.The trees groan low and mournful, and the night grows heavy, pressing against my skin.My breath catches in my throat, terror freezing me still as the darkness pulls itself together.
And then I see him.
He stands at the edge of the clearing, not flesh, not bone, just a shape made of shadow and moonlight, a man and not a man.Tall, lean, with hollow eyes that glow faintly white, his smile sharp and knowing.
Thomas.
