I breathe out, and when I do, his finger slidesfurther inside. I gasp wordlessly when I feel his knuckles bump against me, and Static drops his head against mine, panting himself.
“Fuck, you took my whole finger just like that, darlin’. Goddamn, you’re perfect. Look at you.”
I can’t speak. All I can do is stare into the whites of his eyes, and while I love what I see, I also wish I could see green at the same time.
He starts to move his finger, and the feeling is incredible. He slowly pulls it in and out of me in small motions, just getting me used to it, I think, but whatever he’s doing is making my face prickle with heat and my dick twitch against my belly where it’s trapped in my boxers.
“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” he teases me, and he starts to move a little faster, fucking me a little harder until soft little grunts are spilling from my lips and I’m arching my back to get as close to the sensation as I can.
“You think you can take more?” he asks, slowing his hand, and I blink through the daze.
“More?”
He chuckles. “Never mind. You just enjoy your bliss.” He pulls his finger out of me, and I whine at the loss. I hate it. But then, he spits on his hand, and I flush hotly because that’s… well, that’s just…
But then, I feel the wetness back where I want it, and I suddenly don’t care because I feel the tell-tale pressure, and I know what to do this time.
I breathe out like I did before, and my muscles just relax and let him inside, way easier than before. There’s no sting, only a fullness that makes me groan. My back arches, and all I can hear is our mutual panting.
“You’re so fuckin’ tight, Madison, fuck. You’ve never let anyone in before, have you?”
It takes me a minute to register his words, but when I do, I shake my head.
“You’re mine,” he growls, fucking me harder with his hand, and I whimper when I feel the press of another finger against my full hole. “Mine.”
“Yours,” I gasp loudly as a third finger enters with a bit of a sting, but it feels so good, I don’t mind a bit of pain. Static rotates his hand and spreads his fingers, and I can feel my muscles…
I flush hotly down my face and neck and throughout my chest.
I can feel my musclesstretching.
“You’re beautiful when you blush,” he tells me reverently, voice in a bit of a daze as he trails his mouth all over my face and my chest, and my heart stops beating in that moment as I stare up at him, full of shameful embarrassment, and he thinks I’mbeautiful.
He stares down at me with glassy, dilated eyes, fixated on my face. Not my body or what he’s doing to me, but on my face and how I’m looking at him.
Oh.
Oh, no.
My stomach flips just as my heart kickstarts all over again.
Is this…
Do I?...
Could this be?...
I love my stalker.
Holy shit.
I think I love my stalker.
And I think he might love me, too.
This…
This isn’t good.
