Page 22 of My Masked Stalker
Her gasp comes out ragged as her lungs struggle with her upside-down position. I drag my tongue from her clit to her entrance, slow and filthy, and her whole body jolts in the air. She cries out, a sound halfway between a sob and a moan, and the rope creaks with her struggle.
I unzip, dragging my cock out into the cold night, and press the thick head against her parted lips. “Open,” I order, voice harsh and low. “You’ll take me while I take you.”
Her mouth obeys on instinct, the heat of her tongue meeting my tip as I push inside. She muffles a startled moan around me, and the vibration shoots through my dick. I groan against her clit, devouring her as I thrust deeper into her mouth.
We move in a savage rhythm—my tongue lashing her clit while her muffled whimpers buzz against my shaft, saliva leaking from the corners of her lips, my chin soaked in her sweetness. She’s dangling, helpless, caught, but her body writhes against the rope like she’s offering herself up to the predator that owns her.
I pull back just long enough to growl into her soaked pussy, “My Red, dangling right where I want her. Caught, claimed, and devoured.” Then I sink my tongue back into her, eating her like the wild fucking animal I am.
When I feel her start to twitch and flutter against my mouth, I stop, pulling my dick out of her hot mouth with a groan.
“As much as I’d love to flood your mouth like this, baby, the first time I’m gonna come inside you will be in your tight pussy.”
I reach for my Ghoststrike at my belt, flashing the knife in front of her face and making her choke on her fear.
Delicious.
With a swift motion, I cut the rope at the same time as my arm wraps around her waist. The rope snaps with a violent twang, and she plunges toward the ground before my arm clamps around her body, slamming her against my chest. I bring her down to the ground, on her hands and knees, her ass nestled into my crotch. She’s trembling against me, not knowing if I’m her executioner or her savior. The truth? I’m both.
Unclasping her cloak at the neck, I let it fall to the ground, exposing her to me. She’s now covered only by the skimpy corset and micro skirt costume I picked out, and I rub her side in a soothing circle.
“That’s my girl,” I whisper into her ear, watching with satisfaction as she shivers in response.
In a moment of either masochism or insecurity, I place my knife on the ground in front of us, well within reach of her right hand. If she wants to stab me now, I’ll fucking welcome it.
“K—Killian?” she stutters, the vulnerability in her voice priceless.
“My heart is yours, sweetheart,” I rasp. “Take it or plunge my own knife into it. It’s up to you.”
I grind my crotch against her exposed ass, my cock, still wet from her mouth, nestling in the crevice.
“But know that if you don’t pick up that knife,” I continue harshly, “I’m going to finally take this snug pussy, fill it with my cum, mark you as mine and only mine. And I’mneverletting you go.”
When her trembling fingers wrap around the hilt, my breath stops, the heart she now fully owns sinking into my stomach.
14
EMILY
Irun my fingers over the oddly-shaped hilt of Killian’s knife, surprised by the rubber texture, then feel its slight weight in my hand. Would he really let me stab him? Or is it a trick, one he’ll punish me for? Swallowing the lump in my throat, I eye the sharp, tapered tip. This would slide easily between a man’s ribs or embed itself into his carotid. I don’t let myself think as my fist clenches around the weapon and I bring it down, the blade cutting through the dry leaves and aerated dirt like they’re nothing.
The impact rattles up my arm, the blade vibrating in the dirt. For a moment, I can’t breathe. Neither can he. I feel it in the way he goes rigid behind me, like he actually braced for steel in his chest. The realization makes my stomach swoop.
Feeling needy and empty, I press my ass against my stalker, feeling his hard cock against my skin.
He nearly suffocated me with it earlier. It was already hard to breathe with my head hanging down, but once that thick rod entered my throat, I could only rely on his mercy. The thought of having it inside me, after weeks of his obsessive, dangerous teasing, makes my tunnel clench over nothing.
His chest rumbles against my back, a low growl that slides straight into my bones. His hand clamps over my hip, fingers biting hard enough to bruise, and the heat of him seeps into me through the thin scraps of fabric I’m wearing.
“There’s no going back now, sweetheart,” he growls through panting breaths. “You’re mine.”
One of his hands disappears from my sight, just before I feel the tip of his cock against my wet entrance. My breathing picks up until I feel like I’m about to hyperventilate. Am I really letting my stalker—a killer—fuck me in the dirt and leaves on Halloween night? My body doesn’t care what he’s done, though. My pussy is still buzzing from when he went down on me earlier. He got me to the edge of orgasm despite my hanging upside down and suffocating on his dick.
He doesn’t tease me for long, penetrating me with the head, then sheathing himself fully inside me with two rough strokes. I bare my teeth against the burn. I knew he wouldn’t be gentle, but despite being more turned on than I’ve ever been, his dick isn’t a modest stretch. Not giving me much of a chance to adapt, his grip on my hips turns punishing, his hips snapping against mine with slow, deep thrusts.
His cock splits me open, raw and relentless, and I claw at the ground, dead leaves crunching under my nails. The earthy scent of damp soil mixes with his sweat and the faint tang of gun oil clinging to his skin. It’s filthy. It’s insane. It’s everything I swore I’d never want.
“Fuck,” Killian snarls, dragging me back onto him with brutal force. “Tighter than a goddamn vise.”
