Chapter 14 - Kate
Game on. I started this, and now I have to finish it. There’s no going back.
My stalker’s forearm bands around my waist, and he strokes my belly, sparking a fire I haven’t let burn in years.
His body is hard steel and thick muscle cut with tension.
My finger runs over a scar along his forearm.
I want to press my mouth to it and ask what happened.
The span of his hands is large enough to circle my throat, hold me down or cradle me gently.
Am I scared? Hell, yeah. I dare anyone not to be… well, besides Harper. She eats fear for breakfast and licks the plate clean.
This isn’t about her. It’s about me reclaiming my body and the desires stolen from me three years ago. Bringing the dead parts of me back to life. The phoenix rising from the ashes, all sequins and bluster.
“Seriously, what’s our safe word, Glitter Bomb?” Grumpy Daddy asks again with a squeeze of my waist.
God, I want to feel his lips brush my ear when he says that. The warmth of his breath as a promise, not a threat.
“Celine,” I say firmly, wanting to embody the songstress I admire.
“Locked in.” The man holding me brushes hair from my shoulder.
“Take your helmet off,” I throw in an order of my own. “I want to feel your skin on mine.”
All I’ve got to go on are his TikTok videos.
I want to know what he’s like up close. Rough, scarred, tattooed, and pierced as his videos make him out to be?
Does his skin smell like smoke and sin? Are his hands callused from breaking bad men or soft when he touches something he wants to protect?
I want to memorize the angle of his jaw, the color of his eyes, the curves of his mouth.
The unfiltered version of him who isn’t silent, intentional, and bottled.
The heat of him. The breath between threats.
Most of all, I want to know if he kisses like a warning or a promise.
“This isn’t how this works, Glitter Bomb.” His voice drops into a dark and primal note that makes me think of a werewolf. “Have you got a blindfold?”
My brain fires with self-protective instincts, and my eyes dart to the second drawer of my bedside table, reminding me where my weapons are stashed.
Two parts of me are at war. One wounded and cautious, the other hungry and ready.
This side remembers how he made me feel safe when he calmed my panic, when he got my neighbor off my back, protected me from my boss, and sent me gifts.
He’s watched me but not once has he crossed a line I didn’t already blur.
I’m done living in fear. Tonight, I give the phoenix permission to burn brightly.
“No,” I reply.
“I’ll make do then. Wait here.” He lets me go, crawls off my bed, and crosses the room to enter my walk-in closet. A beat later, he emerges, winding the sash of my silk nightgown around one fist and the belt of my flowered dress around the other.
My brain runs the calculations again. Will he hurt me? Will he respect me? I have to take a leap and risk it, otherwise I’ll be stuck in this loop.
“Don’t break my trust.” I crawl to meet him at the edge of the bed and turn to let him wrap it over my eyes.
“Don’t break mine.” His voice roughens.
I nod. Cool silk kisses my skin. My vision disappears, and my heart takes flight in my throat. He winds it around my eyes three times and ties a firm knot.
“How you doing there, Glitter Bomb?” His hand settles on my shoulder, warm and grounding.
“Good.” It comes out fast. “I’m good,” I repeat, steadier.
I hear the scrape of his helmet lifting.
The hollow thunk as it hits my nightstand.
And then… the heat of his mouth on my skin.
I tilt my head, inviting him in. His tongue traces the seam of my mouth like he’s memorizing me one nerve ending at a time.
I wrap my arm around his neck, fingers threading through his long waves.
I desperately try to form a picture of him.
“You don’t need to worry,” he says low in my ear, and a new fire starts to burn. “Just listen to my voice. I’m going to take care of you.”
Each kiss from my ear to my shoulder peels back another layer of fear.
He licks the spot between my shoulder and neck that always gets me going. “The only place I want you to be shaking is your thighs.”
Hot damn.
“Tell me you understand.” I shiver at the dominance in his tone.
“I understand, Grumpy Daddy.” My reply is pure smoke.
“Good girl. I’m going to make you feel so good, Glitter Bomb.”
He rewards me, shifting my jaw and claiming my mouth, tasting and testing me.
I push into him, but he keeps it controlled.
His finger slides under the strap of my hot pink camisole, moving it aside so he can mark that spot too.
When his teeth sink into the crook of my neck, I gasp and arch into him.
“Did you wear this for your grumpy stalker?” he growls.
“Yes,” I admit.
“I love the color on you.” My body flushes at his praise. He snaps the strap and kisses the sweet sting on my skin. “This is only for me, got it?”
My nod is fast and breathless.
His hand collars my throat tight enough to let me feel his strength. “You’re going to send me a snapshot of what you’re wearing every day. Just a tease. Nothing explicit. Just for me.”
He’s right out of my dark romance handbook. Thoughtful. Protective. Possessive. Obsessive.
“Only if you’re a good stalker,” I purr, rubbing against his hardness.
He nips my bottom lip. “You’re a brat, Glitter Bomb.”
“And you like it,” I fire back, feeling stronger and bolder by the second.
“I’ll teach that mouth to behave.” His mouth crushes mine, demanding but never cruel. I lose myself in the kiss until he pulls back and says, “Here’s what’s going to happen.”
I hold my breath and still, listening to his every word.
“You’re going to touch yourself for me.”
My nipples harden with need.
“You’re going to come on that finger.”
Oh, Grumpy Daddy, yes!
“And if you’re a good girl.” His voice thickens. “I’ll let you have my cock.”
Sweet. Merciful. God.
I love that he takes things slow for me and gives me room to find myself.
I don’t wait for permission and lower my fingers between my thighs.
“Yes, baby.” He grabs my spare wrist and presses it to his riding pants. “Feel what you do to me. Keep going.”
When I circle my clit, his breath catches. I hear the rustle of laces, boots thudding to the floor, the scrape of pants, and the shush of his shirt coming off. I rock over my fingers, flying closer to the edge.
“Don’t stop, Glitter Bomb,” he growls. “I want you to fall apart for me.”
I shatter with a cry of his name. But I’m not done yet. I lift my fingers to my lips, sucking them clean.
“Fuucckk,” he groans. “That’s it. Come here.”
Strong arms lift me, his mouth devouring mine. His cock pulses into my belly, and I grind into him, desperate for more.
“Such a good girl. You deserve a reward.” He brushes my cheek with a kiss. “Are you on birth control or do you want to use a condom?”
I stab a finger at the drawer.
“Don’t move,” he warns, “or I’ll make your ass as pink as your panties.”
I’m dripping at his command.
A foil packet crinkles and tears.
“Come here, baby.” He presses my hand to his cock. “Feel me. You want this? Have you been a good girl?”
I nod and roll the rubber over his length, and he hisses.
“Ready to take all of me, Glitter Bomb?” I adore how he checks in with me at every step and makes me feel at ease.
“Yes,” I pant. “Please, Grumpy Daddy.”
He shuffles behind me, one arm anchoring me again, the other slipping between my legs. Fire trails down my front as he slides his palm from beneath my breasts to my pussy. “Let me replace your ghosts with better memories.”
He’s so close yet remains a mystery. I don’t need to see his face to feel safe, but I wish he wanted to share it when my trust outweighs his.
“One last thing.” He pulls my arms behind my back to give me the final element of my fantasy. “Tell me the second it gets too much.”
Loops circle my wrists as he secures the buckle of my dress belt, leaving it slack enough for me to slide free. My pulse skitters, only this time it’s from anticipation. Three years ago, I was powerless, and tonight, I choose restraints.
“How’s that?” His hand caresses my upper arm.
Nothing about this should turn me on, yet here I am, tied up, turned on, and spinning. My fangirl is cheering that I haven’t run from the helmeted ghost.
“Good.” I smile and bite my lip.
His head probes my entrance, and I lean back into him, pulling him in the first inch. I hiss at the stretch and burn, and tug at my bindings. He doesn’t rush, just sinks in inch by inch.
His teeth graze my shoulder and he slides deeper. “That’s my good girl. Take all of me like you’re made for it.”
We move together, our rhythm syncing. Each thrust is a claim. Each breath a vow. And for the first time in years, I feel safe. Desired. Revered. Respected.
He cups my chin, guiding me into another sweet kiss. His plunges turn frantic, and he whispers my nickname like a prayer. When he breaks apart inside me, I follow him into the dark and I don’t feel afraid at all.
He holds me afterwards, arms tight around me, and I melt into him, listless, warm, and undone. I turn to liquid at his aftercare, undoing my wrists and rubbing slow circles over the chafed welts the belt left from me tugging at every thrust.
“Did I push too far?” His other thumb traces the inside of my elbow, stealing more breath than he did with his cock.
“No,” I reply earnestly. “It was perfect.”
“You did good, Glitter Bomb.” His body shifts against mine, as he brushes a kiss over each wrist.
Dammit, my heart turns traitorous again.
I brush my cheek against his pumping chest. “Thank you. I mean it. For the tenderness. For letting me feel like more than the sum of what’s broken.”