Page 9 of Stalked By the Officer

"Handy," I murmur, and my nails graze his nipples, drawing out a sharp inhale from Doug. His body against mine feels like a puzzle piece clicked into place, an anchor in the stormy seas of our desire.

"Only for you," he growls, and I pull him closer, wanting no space between us, wanting his warmth, his solidity, everything he offers and represents. It's reckless and it's heated, and damn, it feels good.

We're stumbling now, a tangle of limbs and urgent desire as we navigate the short distance to his bed. The world outside his apartment—the rain, my aimless wandering—it all fades into nothingness. There's only Doug, his strong arms wrapped around me, guiding me, steadying me.

"Bed," I gasp out, a giggle bubbling up from the thrill of it all. "Now."

"Your wish," he says between kisses, "is my command."

The back of my knees hit the mattress, and we topple onto it in a mess of laughter and longing. The sheets are cool against my heated skin, but Doug's body is an inferno, enveloping me in a blaze that I never want to extinguish.

"God, Lori," he breathes, his voice rough with want as he hovers above me, eyes devouring every inch of my face. "You're incredible."

"Show me," I challenge, arching beneath him, offering myself up to the pull of this raw hunger that dances between us.

Doug doesn't need another invitation. His mouth claims mine with an intensity that leaves no room for thought, just feeling—every touch, every sensation amplified. My moans are muffled by his lips, but they echo off the walls, a testament to the fervor we can't contain.

"More," I whisper against his mouth, daring him to push us further, to break all the rules.

"I’ll give you everything," he promises, his voice a gruff whisper that sends shivers down my spine.

And then he plunges inside me.

I scream as my hymen tears, clinging to him and gasping.

Doug goes completley still as he looks at me with wide eyes. “Is this your first time?”

My cheeks color as I nod in embarrassment.

But Doug’s eyes darken with something darkly possessive. “Mine,” he croaks out hoarsely as he begins to move inside me. “All mine.”

And then the sounds of our pleasure fill the room—slick skin sliding against skin, punctuated by the creaks of the old bed frame as Doug fucks his cock into me over and over again. Our whispers grow louder, words tangling together until they're just sounds, primal and true.

"Doug!" I cry out, nails digging into the muscle of his back, urging him on, higher, deeper, lost in the storm of sensation he's conjured within me. There's no holding back, not when every nerve ending screams his name, not when the reality of him, of us, is so much better than any fantasy I've ever conjured.

"Say it again," he groans, movements becoming more frantic, relentless.

"Doug!" I oblige, my voice climbing as the pleasure spirals tighter, coiling deep in my belly.

"Fuck, Lori!" he manages to roar just as I feel his release jetting into me. It’s hot and wet, and I triggers another orgasm. I cling tight to him as it rolls through me, blinding me with its intensity.

We collapse onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and ragged breaths. My heart still jackhammers against my chest, each beat echoing the thunderous pleasure that ripped through me moments ago. Doug's arm wraps around me, pulling me close until his skin is my second layer, warm and slightly damp. We're both shaking, tiny tremors that chase the waves of ecstasy we've just surfed to shore.

"Wow," I manage to pant out, my voice sounding foreign in the quiet aftermath.

"Understatement of the year," Doug murmurs, his lips tracing the line of my shoulder. The sensation sends little zings of delight skipping across my already oversensitive skin.

For a long while, we just lay there, breathing each other in. His fingers draw idle patterns on my back, soothing the fire we've stoked to roaring flames. I can feel his heartbeat, steady and strong beneath my palm, grounding me in the reality of him. Of us.

But then, as the haze of passion begins to clear, I sense a shift in him. It's like a cloud passing over the sun, subtle at first but unmistakable.

"Doug?" I nudge his chin with my nose, trying to catch his gaze.

He's staring at the ceiling, jaw clenched, the lines of his face etched with something that looks suspiciously like conflict. I know that look.

My heart sinks.

And that's when the hurt blooms, fierce and sudden. It spreads through me, choking and hot, obliterating the remnants of our shared passion.

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