Prey (Primal #1)

23

T his is not appropriate,” I scolded the man on my bed. He’s at home, propped up against my pillow, legs stretched on my bed, crossed at the ankle, phone on his lap as if he’d been relaxing in my room for hours.

“Where have you been?” he asked, wearing a black ski mask that I thought he had just put on in a hurry, maybe because he had heard me outside the door.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I had to answer to you,” I hissed at him, folding my arms across my chest in defiance. “Are you comfortable lying there like a king on his throne on my bed?”

He snorted, which I think was a chuckle, as his jaw pulsated under the thick fabric. Then I noticed his eyes, and my breath was whisked away, partly because of the deep dark pools of suspicion mixed with…humor, but because I felt like I’d seen those eyes before.

Typically, Rourke wore a full horror mask where it was impossible to see his eyes, or if he wore a ski mask, he was too far away to see the features of his eyes. But those eyes had me captured, mesmerized.

“Yes, I am very comfortable, thanks,” he replied, and I stifled my smile because I was supposed to be angry with him. I liked the tone of his voice, even though it was muffled by that ski mask, and his evident sense of humor, although a bit macabre. “Remind me where you were tonight?”

“I didn’t tell you,” I dumped my bag down on the desk, wondering what I would do with him. He was too heavy to drag out, and he didn’t threaten me, so I didn’t want to call the police. What was the appropriate action when you came face to face with your stalker who broke into your room?

“Do I scare you?” he asked in a steady voice as those eyes latched onto my lips, watching them as I bit them.

I swallowed and fiddled with my glasses as a forced habit. “No,” I breathed, although it wasn’t entirely true. He grew on me, got under my skin, and became a regular feature in my life, but in such close vicinity, he made me nervous.

His head tilted as if he didn’t believe me, and those eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Okay, a little bit scared,” I added, “I mean…it’s not every day you arrive home to find a masked man sitting on your bed watching…” noticing a pic of a motor was on his phone, “car stuff on your phone.”

“Car stuff?” he faked, being offended. “This is not just any car stuff, but classic, heavy metal car stuff.”

“Like, say,” I was joining the dots, “a black Mustang-type heavy metal classic car?”

“No comment,” he replied swiftly, which jerked laughter from me, and those eyes lit up.

“You need to get a hobby,” I told him, slipping off my sneakers because my feet were sore.

“You’re my hobby,” he argued as he shuffled over on the bed, allowing space for me to sit next to him.

“Seriously? Stalking is not a healthy hobby,” I stated as I sat on the bed beside him, inhaling his scent of cigarettes and shampoo with a hint of engine oil.

His arm snaked around my shoulder, and he pulled me into him. It felt nice, as his body heat was soothing. I dropped my head on his shoulder. “Who said anything about healthy?” he rationalized. Nothing I do is healthy. Smoking, drinking…”

“Drugs?” I pressed curiously as I was enjoying this interaction a lot.

“The odd one.”

“Do the drugs help you…with your burns?” I didn’t word the question well and considered reframing it, but he answered before I could.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Helped me forget.”

His masked face nestled into the curve of my neck, kissing through the woolen fabric, which was frustrating, but if he didn’t want to show me yet, then I understood.

“I have a job,” I confessed as warm breath and fabric tickled my skin, invigorating place between my legs. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Where?” he asked, then added, still kissing my neck as I quickly crumbled under his spell. “Why?”

“Money, Rourke. Money. The magic that makes the world go round,” I sighed as his hand found my thigh. After being turned on by Ronan at work, I needed some relief.

“I’ll give you money,” he said as that hand moved dangerously close to my pussy which was reeling for him to do more.

I snorted. “From where? Rob a bank?”

“My family has money,” he confessed, but I didn’t believe him. A man who refused to show me his face could lie easily, so I took most of his words with a grain of salt. I was not as na?ve as I looked on some issues. “What sort of job is it?”

“I thought you could tell me since you like to stalk me,” I taunted as his hand moved closer again to my pussy, and a naughty finger brushed along my clit over my pants, and a sigh escaped my lips.

“I lost track of you when you boarded the bus,” he confessed, and it made me laugh that he was blatantly honest about his unhealthy obsession.

His fingers brushed over my clit again, and my thighs naturally snapped shut over his hand. “Why me, Rourke?” I breathed as his hand still moved against my clit, making me sodden, while his fabric-covered face moved down my collarbone. “What is it about me that you find so entrancing? I mean…I’m nothing special, plain, nerdy…”

His groan reverberated against my skin as his hand moved away from between my legs and reached for my glasses to remove them. I grabbed them from his fingers so he wouldn’t look too closely at the lens to discover that it was just glass and placed them carefully on the desk.

Judith repeatedly told me I should never let the disguise slip, even when I believed I was alone. I had to be Riley Laws in public and private for the disguise to become a natural expression.

“You’re not plain,” was all he said, and that was enough to cause the pressure building to overflow.

I stripped down my pants and panties and grabbed his hand, directing him back to where I wanted him to be. Two fingers were inserted into my core, and a high-pitched moan escaped my lips. “I’m not as nice as I seem,” I told him as he positioned himself over the top of me so that he could work those damn fingers.

“So, I’m discovering,” he crooned, then pulled away and climbed off the bed and gasped as cool air met my swollen clit.

“Where are you going?” I asked, grabbing a pillow to put it over my bare body.

“I'm turning the light off because I don’t want you to see the scars,” he stated. With the light off, only a gentle beam came in through the crack in the blind from the streetlights. But that wasn’t good enough for him, so he fiddled with the blind to block out that small light beam.

“I won’t judge,” I whispered as he stood over me. I could see his shape and hear brushing fabric as he removed his sweater and dropped his sweatpants. I was entranced by the contrast of black images on pale skin—many tattoos. His upper left arm was bandaged, and I assumed burned scars lay underneath.

“Riley,” he said sternly as he dropped his underpants, and I could see the outline of his cock sticking straight out in front of him and his hand moving along it. “I’m not ready. Stop pushing it.”

“Okay, I promise, I won’t pressure you to do anything you’re not comfortable with,” I stated as my entire body rippled as he rubbed his hard cock a few times. But still, he refused to remove his mask, even when it was this dark.

“Take your clothes off,” his voice simmered in the dark.

I sat up, pulled my top off, and unhooked my bra as he stood over, watching, leaning forward to prod my skin with the head of his cock. His hand found the back of my head, moving my face closer to his cock, and I opened my mouth to let him slide inside. Their hips rolled, his hand directing me, muffled groans exuding from his mouth.

His taste was salty, and the hardness filling my soft mouth was making me even hornier, and I ran my hands up and down his thighs, then stopped at his balls and started massaging as his grinding became harder inside my mouth, the tip of his cock striking the back of my throat.

His other hand grasped the back of my lace at the base of my skull as he started thrusting into my mouth, and with each thrust, he grunted under that mask. I was so wet that I could feel the juice seeping onto the bed cover from my pussy. I wanted him inside me to scratch an itch and fill me up, but he was determined to fuck my mouth.

“Who…” thrust … “are…” thrust … “you?” he grunted, but my mouth was filled with his moving cock that I couldn’t answer him. I assumed that it was just horny pillow talk because he was so vigorous and turned on by being in my mouth.

He pulled out, and I gasped for air, rubbed his cock twice before warm fluid landed on my face and breasts. When he was done, he stood back and looked at me, even though he couldn’t see much in the dark.

“Rub my cream over your tits and mouth,” his tone grave and a shiver ran down my spine. I didn’t know who this man was, and there I was, allowing him to do whatever he wanted.

I did as he commanded and spread his cum over my nipples and mouth as he slapped his cock to get it hard again, and I reeled at the thought of another round with him.

Running my hand down to my aching clit and pushing the wetness under my fingertips into my sodden pussy, and moaned as I did so. The rubbing of his cock increased as I caught his dark head turn to look up at the top of the window, and I assumed he was worried about the light.

“I want to see you so bad,” he stated, stepping to the blinds to let a sliver of golden streetlight drape over my skin, lighting me on fire. “Put your fingers in your hole.”

I wiggled into position, pushed my fingers up, and started rolling my hips over them, and his rubbing pace increased. I had become an expert at masturbation because I didn’t have many sexual partners, mostly because I was too afraid the real me, Annika, would slip out the closer I got to someone. But being in the dark with Rourke, the masked man, suited me as it suited him. I could be anyone I wanted in the dark.

He stepped closer, grabbed my arm, and pulled me to my feet, so I was forced to stop pleasuring myself. “It hurts like fuck that I can’t kiss you,” his voice cracked under the strain as I wrapped my hand around his hard shaft and started playing with the head with my fingers.

“Lift the bottom part of your mask to reveal your mouth,” I urged him. “Just the bottom part.”

“No,” he snapped, growing angry at my comment. Without seeing the expression on his face, I sensed the boiling heat of his fury.

He snatched my upper arms tightly, and I gasped, then turned my body around so he was behind me and pushed my head down hard to force me to bend over and place my hands on the bed.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’ll wonder what hit you.” I failed to understand where his sudden anger came from, but I wanted him to penetrate me so badly that I ignored the fear coiling through my body. Students were nearby in the other rooms, so if he crossed a line, I’d scream for help.

“I’m sorry if I annoyed you,” I said as he drove his cock hard into my pussy, and I screamed at how good it felt.

“You didn’t annoy me,” he stated heatedly, pushing further inside, pinching my inner walls as they expanded, allowing his girth to move.

He rammed brutally inside me, balls slapping against my butt cheeks, and oh my, it felt so good. “You…” thrust … “bring…” thrust … “something…” thrust … “primal…” thrust … “out…in…me.”

Big warm hands grabbed the flesh of my butt cheeks, and his hips pushed forward, pounding, slapping, thrusting.

“This is so good,” I cried as my orgasm rippled up and down my thighs. He increased the pace faster, ruthlessly, and my screaming and moaning synchronized with each drive into me.

“Good,” he snarled under that mask, sounding scarier than speaking without it. Then, under his breath, so quiet that I almost missed it, he added, “I need to punish you.”

“Punish me then,” I moaned, assuming it was more sex talk.

My hair was suddenly yanked, forcing my head back, and the stinging from my scalp flooded to my clit. I cried out in pain and pleasure, and that cock kept ramming my body.

Then it hit.

It was the most thunderous orgasm I’d ever had, not that I had many to compare it to. My entire body contracted, my breath hitched, my mouth gaped, and I saw stars behind my eyes for a few seconds as I held my breath.

The incredible, most potent orgasm rippled through my body, and I cried out as my knees and thighs grew rubbery, and I had to hold myself up with my hands.

His warm cream flooded my walls as he kept moving until I was exhausted and he was limp.