“I…I didn’t see you.”
His lips quirked. “I didn’t want you to.” He stood inches away, neither of our bodies touching. “You searched for me.” He tilted his head to the side. “You found me here.”
“I…did.” I wasn’t sure what else to say, wasn’t sure how to act, but when his eyes flashed, I pushed my shoulders back. “You’re not the only one who can stalk, you know.” I narrowed my eyes on him. “Normally if you like someone you’re meant to tell them, not follow them constantly.”
“Is that so?” He dipped his head, bringing his face closer to mine. “Look what happened when you thought I wasn’t following you.” He paused, but I didn’t reply to him. “You like it, don’t you?” He chuckled, the sound so deep it had butterflies swarming in my stomach. “You like the thought of me following you, huh?”
“Yes,” I breathed out. There was no point in denying it. I wanted him to watch me.
“Fuck,” he ground out. “You’re even more perfect than I thought you were.”
I didn’t get the chance to answer him because his lips were on mine, hard and heavy, demanding that I open up to him. And I did. I gave my body to him freely, something I’d never done before.
He may have been in control, but I knew if I said no that he would stop. I knew he wasn’t a danger, not to me anyway.
His hands yanked at my top, but when it didn’t move off my body fast enough, he tore it open, revealing my bare chest to him. It wasn’t something I’d done on purpose, but it was a convenience I hadn’t even thought about.
His one hand covered my breast as his mouth trailed down my cheek, my neck, and to my nipple. He stared up at me as he pulled it into his mouth, sucking on it so hard I damn near combusted right then and there.
He grasped my hips and moved to his knees, not breaking eye contact once as he pulled my skirt down, leaving me in just a pair of black panties.
“These need to go,” he gritted out, and then the sound of material tearing echoed around the room. “Mine.” His palm moved to my pussy, covering it entirely as he repeated, “This is mine.”
I groaned, trying to keep my eyes open, but it was becoming too much watching him touch me.
“Say it,” he demanded. “Tell me you’re mine, Kloey.”
“I…” I gasped as his finger pushed inside me and his thumb rubbed against my clit. “I’m yours.”
“Damn fuckin’ straight you are.”
He pumped his finger in and out, adding a second one as the burning at the bottom of my stomach intensified. I reached for him to keep myself steady, my fingers pushing through his short brown hair.
I was close, so damn close, but then he pulled away. He left my body just as quick as he’d pounced on me.
“What…” I blinked, trying to come to the here and now, and just as I realized he’d been pulling his own clothes off, he grabbed me again, this time picking me up and thrusting his cock inside me.
I hadn’t been expecting it, but he didn’t care. He took what he wanted, and I gave it to him willingly.
“You’re so damn tight,” he murmured into my neck, his hand working its way down between us again and rubbing against my clit.
He moved us around the room, thrusting as he went, but it was when my back hit a wall that he went faster, harder, rougher. And…I liked it. I liked it more than I ever thought I would.
“Tell me again,” he ground out, bringing his face level with mine. His eyes darkened, begging me for something, and I knew exactly what he needed. I may not have known him yet, but our souls knew exactly what the other one needed.
“I’m yours, Nixon.” He growled, his body tensing as my orgasm threatened a second time, so I repeated, “I’m yours.” He slammed inside me again, my orgasm taking me over completely, and I knew right then that nothing would be the same again.
I’d come here knowing he would cause my life to veer off track, but I didn’t care.
He pulsated, his cum spurting inside me, and his stare focused entirely on me as he whispered, “You’re mine.”
About Abigail Davies
About Abigail:
Abigail Davies grew up with a passion for words, storytelling, maths, and anything pink. Dreaming up characters—quite literally—and talking to them out loud is a daily occurrence for her. She finds it fascinating how a whole world can be built with words alone, and how everyone reads and interprets a story differently.
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www.abigaildaviesauthor.com
Books by Abigail:
MAC Security
Fallen Duet
Unseen Underground
Monomaniac
Faith Ryan
Prologue
My heart beats wildly as I run faster, relishing the chase almost as much as the capture. The man’s footsteps pound the pavement hard and I smile with glee when he looks back over his shoulder to see if I’m still behind him.
You won’t get away that easily. I maintain just enough distance between us to let him think he has a chance of escaping from me. He doesn’t, but this is much more fun.
He turns the corner and I follow him into the alley. His terror-filled eyes meet mine the moment he realizes he’s run into a dead end, and a wall is blocking him from going any farther. The bitter smell of him pissing himself reaches me over the garbage littering the ground, and I wrinkle my nose at him in disgust. Pathetic. His obvious fear and weakness when faced with someone like me is another mark against him, solidifying my need to remove him from Tate’s life. Tate doesn’t need someone who isn’t strong enough to fight for him. He needs someone like me.
“What do you want from me?” he sobs, tears
