Chapter 6
Chapter Six
I waited for her at the edge of her property, crouched beneath the trees.
I knew she’d check the mailbox when she got home and find my note.
My breath catches in my throat as she gets out of her car.
She looks absolutely fucking edible. Her forest green pants hug her tightly, outlining the curve of her hips and her hourglass waist. A sliver of her exposed skin peeks out from under the matching sports bra that squeezes her breasts.
She hugs her arms tight to her chest as she hustles from the car to the mailbox, her tight ponytail swinging behind her.
She opens my note right away, too curious to wait until she gets inside.
Her wide eyes move around wildly, searching for her anonymous admirer.
She sucks her lower lip into her mouth and chews on it nervously before getting back in the car.
She’s anxious, but it’s not enough. I want her scared.
So scared that she finds solace in the thing she fears most—me.
I want to infect her with my darkness until she craves it. Until she craves me.
When I lose sight of her, my body, without any direction from my brain, pulls me in closer, walking around the house until she’s in my line of sight again.
Pressing my body against the house, I crane my neck forward to peer through the window of her living room and watch her.
As she nestles my note between the pages of a book, I’m dumbfounded and left sucking in air like I’ve never breathed before.
She sits for a while, her face is contorted, struggling to brush off what’s happening. Her head shakes from side to side, as if she could shake away her thoughts. After a few deep breaths, she settles, grabs a large stack of printed pages from the table, and pulls her legs up to lay on the couch.
Her eyes dart back and forth as she reads and furiously flips through the pages.
Something on the current page is different for her, though.
A pink hue creeps up from her neck, blushing over her cheeks as her breath quickens.
Her lips part with a gentle sigh and her hand releases, dropping the pages to the floor.
Hooking her thumbs into the tops of her pants, she pushes her hands down her thighs, peeling them off.
With one hand, she bunches them up and tosses them to the floor.
The sight of her immediately makes my cock stiffen and press uncomfortably against the zipper of my jeans.
Silky panties hug her soft curves, riding high on her hips.
Her wetness darkens the pale, purple fabric between her legs.
Her delicate hand pulls her full breasts up from beneath her sports bra.
My mouth waters when I see her nipples, hard and reaching.
Her mouth falls open as she rubs her thumb in small circles around the hard nub before pinching it gently.
I can’t tear my eyes away from her body as her right hand caresses down her sternum, over her stomach, reaching her soaked panties.
Her outstretched middle finger rubs circles around her clit, forcing a soft moan from her lips.
Even muffled through panes of glass, it’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard.
“Fuck,” I grunt under my breath, rubbing my hand over the length of my cock through my jeans. In one swift motion, she jerks her panties off and tosses them aside, revealing her pink folds dripping with need.
My cock presses harder against my zipper.
I can’t contain myself watching her like this.
I unzip and free myself from the rough fabric.
She moans loudly as she plunges her finger inside of her sweet cunt.
My fist encircles the tip of my dick, mimicking her motions, envisioning myself between her thighs as I press inside her.
I jerk the length of my cock, increasing my pace along with hers, imagining how her tight cunt will feel wrapped around me.
Her back arches as her fingers move in and out, while her thumb rubs circles around her clit.
She cries out as the orgasm hits her. The sound makes my balls tighten. “Fuck yes, come for me, little bird,” I growl as I fall over the edge of my own orgasm. I spatter the leaves beneath her window with my cum.
She’s beautiful, basking in her post-orgasm haze.
Eyes closed, thighs quivering, her hands shake as her chest heaves up and down.
Her soft hand brushes away the hair that’s fallen into her face as her breathing steadily slows.
In that moment, she's mine. No matter what I have to do, she's going to give herself to me completely, body and soul.
Even if I have to force her.
My eyes stay on her as she collects her discarded clothing and makes her way upstairs.
The sound of old pipes hums through the walls, telling me that she’s turned on the shower.
This is my chance. I quickly tuck myself back into my pants and move around the house to the kitchen door.
The lock is simple, and I pick it easily with the kit I keep with me.
The moment I push open the door, the smell of her hits me like a rush of strawberry wine. It’s intoxicating.
I make a beeline for the room she was in.
The sweet musk of her sex still hangs thick in the air.
Blood rushes back to my cock as her scent fills my nostrils.
A gray couch sits against the wall that separates the kitchen and living room.
I press my face against its arm, breathing in the scent of her hair.
My finger traces through the damp spot she left on the cushion beneath her before I suck it into my mouth, tasting her.
She tastes like Heaven, or as close to it as I'll ever get.
The stack of papers lays on the floor, held together by paper clips—it’s a mess of sticky notes and highlighted pages. A fingerprint from her sweaty hands leads me to the page I need. What's got my little bird so bothered?
Jonathan’s breathing was ragged. The waves of heat danced along the side of Christine’s neck.
His strong hands gripped her waist firmly, using the full weight of his Herculean frame to press her against the door.
She tried to hold back the moan that fell from her lips, but the feel of his body on hers was too intense.
She had craved his touch since all of this began.
It wasn't right, but she couldn't escape the feeling that overcame her, that begged her to close the distance between their lips.
She felt his dark eyes on her face, but she couldn’t meet them. Her own eyes remained fixed on his chest. Her voice came out as a shaky whisper, “We can’t. Not here, not like this.”
Jonathan’s hands grabbed at her hips. He whipped her around and pressed her face roughly against the wooden door.
She hissed in pain, but was pinned, unable to move while his fingers skimmed along the back of her thigh, tracing a line up to the top of her stockings where he lingered.
Her breath caught in her throat as his knee jutted out between her legs, forcing them apart.
The shredding of fabric tearing echoed in the cold, empty room as he ripped them from her body.
Christina gasped, feeling the cool air play along her sensitive folds.
He let her dwell there for a moment, dripping and panting before she felt the heat of his hardened manhood pressed to her opening.
Her mind was a tangled web of confusion and lust. The only word she could muster up repeated uncontrollably in her head until it tumbled out of her mouth, “Please.”
Sharp, burning pain seared through her core as he plunged inside of her.
She screamed, feeling his enormous shaft impaling her, stretching her wider than she thought possible.
He held her roughly, bruising her skin while his hips slammed against her in unrelenting thrusts.
Loud, husky moans reverberated through the room, like the sound of some feral animal.
The sound was so foreign to her that she didn’t realize it was coming from her own body.
Her legs trembled, threatening to give out as he thrust in and out of her, his pace increasing.
A need crept up inside her like she’d never known before, like a fire building inside her belly, ready to engulf her in flames at any moment.
Jonathan growled behind her, a low, wicked sound that made her sex twitch in anticipation.
His shaft pulsed inside of her as a rush of warmth spread through her core.
A wave of unimaginable pleasure crashed into her, buckling her knees as their intertwined bodies crumpled to the floor.
A dark grin spreads across my mouth. Maybe my little bird isn’t as sweet and innocent as she looks.
I tilt my ears up, listening for her, but I’m only met with the pattering sound of water hitting tile.
Looking around, I notice a bookcase in the corner of the room overflowing with haphazardly stacked novels.
I drop the manuscript and run my fingers along the fore-edges of the books, finding indentations where she’s dog-eared the pages.
Skimming through the books, I find that every folded page is a sex scene.
But to my surprise, none of them are romantic, storybook love-making.
There are no gentle princes in these stories—they’re fucking and it’s rough.
My poor, desperate little bird. She doesn’t know how badly she needs my darkness or the shadows I’ll cast over her. I’ll wrap her in them like a blanket before she even realizes that she’s cold.