He’ll come tonight, right?
Isit the silvery light from the moon or the presence of a dark shadow in my bedroom that wakes me up?
It’s him.
Huge, all in black.
I blink up at the shadowy man. “Hey, daddy.”
Fitz doesn’t say anything.
I can already feel myself getting wet. “I thought you were gonna fuck me awake.”
He reaches for his belt.
I slide off the bed.
The faceless black mask follows me.
I slide my hands down the front of the black canvas pants, feel the hard muscle underneath.
The gloved hand grabs my hair, yanking my head forward.
“You know what I like, daddy,” I murmur.
My hand slips under my T-shirt, into my panties.
Above me, he hisses.
I mouth against his cock in the pants, anticipating the fucking I’m going to get.
“Don’t fucking touch her!”
“Fitz!” I scream as the huge blond man crashes into the intruder.
“Fitz, who—oh my god.”
In horror, I realize that I was about to have sex with a stranger, an intruder, because I thought it was him.
Screaming, I scuttle backward, bumping into the nightstand.
Fitz picks up the lamp on the side table and goes after the intruder with it, his eyes black with rage.
The intruder grunts when the base of the lamp crashes into his back. He crashes into the French doors that lead out onto the small balcony then jumps down, rolling and sprinting away.
“That motherfucker,” Fitz snarls. “No one”—he whirls on me—“touches what’s mine.”
“I didn’t—”
“No one.”
He shoves me back onto the bed, his hands all over me in a frenzy, his mouth hot on mine, his teeth sharp on my skin.
The T-shirt rips. He doesn’t even pull my panties down.
He bites my neck, my chin, scrapes down to my tits.
“You will never, ever”—his fingers are hard on my pussy through the soaked panty fabric—“ever let another mantouch you.”
