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I do as I’m told as he moves the gusset of my panties aside and tugs my legs down to rest on his shoulders. My head falls back against the back of the bench with a moan as he licks a firm stripe up my slit—before drawing my clit into his mouth. My back arches, and I cry out as he sucks the sensitive bud indulgently.
“F-fuck!” I whine, my heels digging into his back as I try to pull him closer.
He grips my thighs roughly, his nails poking crescent-shaped cuts into my flesh. Knowing he’s drawn blood, I can’t help but think about the masked man—how he pinned me against the counter and thrust his fingers inside, taking what he wanted from me.Possessingme.
My fingers scrape against the wood of the bench as I pant Blake’s name, my insides taut with pleasured tension. His tongue licks and flicks in all the right places, but my mind keeps wandering back to the man in the mask. My stalker. A wash of arousal soaks my brain, my heart pounding as I imagine him eating me out. “So fucking good … Please, keep going!” I whine, wanting nothing more than to be pushed over the edge.
But instead of flying toward my climax, Blake stops—and I want to scream as I’m backed off from the precipice. I blink open my eyes to see his brows drawn together, his gaze fixed in horror on my thighs.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry!” he says, freaking out. “I got too caught up. We need to treat those wounds before they get infected.”
My head tips back with a groan, and I roll my eyes at his mother-hen nature. “Don’t worry about it.” God, I want to come so badly, I’m on the verge of tears. “I don’t mind you being rough. Please.”
“You taste amazing, but …” He readjusts my panties, pulls up my pants, and takes my hand in his. “I’ll make it up to you. Promise. But for now …”
I barely listen to what he says as we walk back to his car. Blake is such a caring guy. Though I wish he’d think about something other than attending to my needs like a caretaker for once. Mentally, I chide myself for being so ungrateful. But my body throbs with need, and I can’t think about anything else but getting fucked silly as we drive home.
Chapter
Fourteen
HIM
Wind whistles through the trees as I enter Grand Pointe Apartments. A shiver of anticipation crawls up my spine; I can feel the change in the atmosphere as a storm approaches. But that isn’t the only reason I’m excited tonight. Underneath the bushels of dark clouds, lightning and thunder roar in the distance, with heavy rain on its heels.
The perfect backdrop for this evening’s events.
I take the stairs two at a time as I make my way up to the second floor. The hallways smell damp, with an underlying scent of lemon cleaning solution. I wrinkle my nose; the janitor finished his duties, so at least there won’t be any interference. When I reach my destination—apartment five—I press my ear against the wood.
After making sure Gwen’s asleep, I take the copy of the key I made from my pocket and insert it into the lock. The door clicks open and I slip inside, closing it with a soft thud. The living room is dark aside from the streaks of lightning that intermittently light up the sky. Carefully, I cross the room, trying to keep my footsteps silent.
I stand in front of her bedroom, taking in Gwen’s sleeping form. Her chest rises and falls with each breath, and I deduce it must be the sleeping pills. I smirk, knowing it will make what I want to do even easier. My Little Finch is so vulnerable. She has no idea what’s about to happen. But if that night at the shop is any indication of her feelings, I’m sure she won’t mind.
I’ll have her screaming and begging for me before the night is through.
She’s curled up on her side, snoring softly, looking so angelic. It almost makes me feel guilty for what I’m about to do.Almost.
Thick droplets pelt against the glass of the nearby window as I slink under the covers, making sure not to disturb her slumber. With my front to her back, I maneuver my arm underneath her neck, placing my knife to her delicate throat—for insurance—and reach to grasp a heavy tit with my other hand. I squeeze her full breast, biting my lip to keep myself from moaning out. She stirs as I pinch her nipple, twisting the bud through her thin tank top as I grind against her plush ass.
Slowly, she opens her eyes—and inhales sharply as she realizes what’s going on. “It’s you,” she breathes, her voice laced with fear and confusion. Her throat bobs as she swallows carefully, likely very aware of the blade that could easily slash her and end her life.
“Miss me, Little Finch?” I say, tracing a gloved finger down her abdomen before settling between her thighs and pressing my groin harder into her backside. “You should have known I wouldn’t stay gone for long.” I smile as a shudder wracks her body.
A loud crack of thunder booms—and in one swift motion, she leans back to smash her head against mine and rolls out of my grasp to scramble off the bed before I can react. I feel blood trickle from my nose behind the mask, and I glare at her with a mix of surprise and anger.Crazy fucking bitch, I think.She risked getting her throat cut just to escape me.
I think I may truly be in love after all.
“You,” she says sternly, her voice hoarse with emotion. She keeps a close eye on me as she backs toward her dresser, snatching a bronze paperweight from it as a makeshift weapon. “Get out, or I swear to God, I’ll make it so neither of us walks away from here alive.”
I can’t help but laugh. “I admire the scorched earth approach, but there’s no way I’m leaving without what I came for.” Our gazes lock as I leap from the bed. “If you won’t give it to me, then I’ll just have to take it.” My grip tightens on the knife. “Now it’s time to finish what we started.”
Dodging to the side as I lunge, she sweeps her hand forward with the paperweight in a desperate arc. The hit is weaker than expected, stinging but not slowing me down. She runs past me and out into the living room, with me hot on her heels.
As she scoops up a candle holder and launches it at me with surprising force, I evade it and spring toward her. Ignoring her cries of frustration, I wrap my arms around her waist and lift her off the ground as if she weighs nothing. A shriek tears from her throat as she thrashes in my grasp, but the thunder smothers her protests.
But I can’t risk someone alerting the authorities. I squeeze her, forcing air from her lungs so her cries are stifled, and carry her to the bedroom. I throw her on the bed, and she makes another escape attempt—but I dig my fingers into her ankles and yank her closer, back toward the edge of the mattress. She yelps as I flip her over like a rag doll onto her back.
Inhaling raggedly, she stares up in horror at me before trying to slip away again. Exasperation fills me as I snatch her ankles once more and hold her down. She tries to scream as I straddle her hips, pinning her hands above her head.
