How will I know?
I could ring his neck. It’s the not knowing that feels like it could kill me. How am I supposed to live like this? Not knowing if there’s a book out of place in my own home.
I’m furious with him. Flat-out furious. I’m angry he broke in. I’m angry he invaded my privacy. I know it’s rich coming from me, but I fucking hate how it feels. I’m angry that he’s moved my stuff around, but most of all, most of all, I’m angry because I know that no matter what I do, now that he knows where I am, I’m going to be waiting for him. I’m going to spend the rest of the day waiting for him. I’m going to think of nothing else. I’m going to jump every time I hear a car in the street. I’m going to tense when I hear footsteps in my hall. I’m going to wait for thedingof my doorbell. I’m going to spend every minute of the rest of the day thinking of how he looked last night. How he felt. How he made me feel.
God, he made me feel good.
He put up a good fight, a hell of a good fight but in the end, he gave me what I’ve been wanting since the first time I laid eyes on him. He gave me that, and more. He gave me his moans. He didn’t try to hold them back. He begged for my cock.Whinedfor it. He lay naked on his back on my bed, with his legs splayed wide open, and he begged me to fuck him. He kept begging when I was inside him. He begged for every single thrust.
Every. Single. Thrust.
I gave him my moans, too. I couldn’t help it. He’s so hot inside. So smooth. So tight. His ass clenched so snugly around my cock, it felt like a thick rubber band, milking me, making me crazy. He arched off the bed, digging his heels into the mattress and fucked me unbridled. He grated his gland on my cock. He was crazed. Nothing has ever felt better than his perfect cock in my hand and his perfect ass sliding up and down my erection. The sound he made when he came was unreal. It hardly sounded human. It sounded like it was torn from him. It sounded like it was mine. Like it was made for me. I tried to catch it in my hands. I used both hands, but it still overflowed. Hot and sticky as it spurted from him. Excessive. Perfection. Like him.
Afterwards, I leaned back on my haunches, with my dick still inside him, and licked my palms clean. He watched lazily as I did it. His eyes were vacant and his mouth was open, wanting, still begging for more. I lay over him, sinking my full weight onto him, pressing him down into the mattress. I put my lips over his and fed him what we made together. He ate it. Licking gratefully. Sucking it off my tongue. His ass started clenching when he did it. He sobbed in pleasure as he came again.
I did, too.
*
I pace up and down my apartment. I’m not in the mood to cook, but I’m hungry, so I make an omelette for an early dinner. Fortunately it’s an easy meal to whip up, as my first attempt is thwarted when I crunch a sprinkling of salt onto it, only to find that that Demon put sugar into my salt mill. As I toss it in the trash, I look down in the can.
Sigh.
I guess that solves the mystery of what happened to my work pants.
After dinner, I wait. I brush my teeth and shower and wait. I sit on the sofa and wait and wait. I wait until I’m positive I’m going to go crazy. I wait till it’s dark. Till it’s late. Till I’m absolutely positive he isn’t coming.
Then I hear a key in the lock, and a slick, metallic click.
Jesus Christ.
The little shit made himself a key to my place.
Chapter 25
Demon
“Howmanybooksdidyou move?”
His voice is hoarse, deep, and breathless from the way he just fucked me. I barely had time to close the door. He grabbed me and spun me around and started eating my ass with my pants still around one ankle. My legs are still trembling, but I have the presence of mind to smile sweetly and say, “Twelve.”
The mixed look of horror and despair on his face is almost as satisfying as the mind-bending orgasm he just gave me. His eyes wander across the forest of books in his hallway.
“D’you want me to call a car for you?”
“I have a car, Asshole. Any stalker worth their salt would know that.”
He scoffs and gets up, standing near the living room window and looking down at the street below. He did the same thing yesterday. I walk to the front door and open it.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Keeping an eye on you.”
“You think I need you to watch me? I can take care of myself.”
“This neighborhood’s not what you’re used to.”
“So what are you going to do, stand guard and launch yourself out the window if someone accosts me?
