He doesn’t answer, but stalks me. “I said later.”
“And I said now!” I step back again and cross my arms, waiting, refusing to budge. His cock may be magical, but I need answers. My brain is screaming at me. All the weird instances make sense now. The slightly opened drawers. The faint smell of his cigarette.
“I wanted access to your place. I wanted access to you.”
His statements are said without any contrition. He’s not sorry about what he did. Memories jumble around in my brain. The times I felt like I was being followed. The way my car seat was extended back. To accommodate his long frame, I realize. Other things click into place. “The studio! The paint! That was you?!” The truth is all over his face. “Why?”
“I want to know where you are.”
My brain computes the odd phrasing. “A key to my apartment won’t tell you that.”He’s been following me.There’s anger, but damn him, there’s also intrigue. A level of excitement that I can’t shake.He’s been watching me. “How do you know where I am, Stone?” I step closer, wanting him to say it.He examines my face. That laser-sharp focus I’ve grown accustomed to is amplified. Everything about him feels menacing, and I should be scared.
“You’re right, a key won’t tell me where you are, but the cameras will. The voice recordings will. The tracker will.”
Cameras? Voice recordings? Tracker?My mind explodes. “You’re kidding right?”
Stone calmly walks to my bookshelf and removes a small camera, no bigger than my thumb, from between two of my books. Next, he moves to my purse, opening an inner pocketlike he’s done it before, and I realize he has. He’s been inside my purse. Then he moves to my closet and takes out my satchel, flipping it open. He lifts out an AirTag. I study him, the comfortable way he is in the apartment. He heads to my tiny kitchen and reaches above the door jamb, pulling down another small item.
“What is that?” My body feels cold and hot all at once. He doesn’t stop there and walks to the bedroom door, and my rage explodes. As much as I can see the appeal of being watched during sex, that he was listening while I was in my bedroom doesn’t feel so titillating anymore.
He must have heard the times over the last months that I’ve cried over my father’s hatred while lying on my pallet. The many verbal monologues I had while pacing the my living room feeling like a failure. Oh god! The day he ate me out! I cried in my room, sobs of embarrassment. And he heard! I didn’t want anyone to be privy to that weakness.
I follow him, slowly, and watch as he lifts another small device from behind the small stand I use next to my bed. I never would have found it. Horrified, I curl my fingers into a fist. “My bedroom! You son of a bitch! Remove them! I want them gone.”
“No.” He puts all of them back in his pocket. “They stay. They’ll have a new location, but they will be here.”
Enraged, I stomp toward him and point in his face. “I’m going to find every last one and destroy them. How dare you!?”
He grabs me by the wrist, yanking up to my toes so his hot breath fans my face. “I dare whatever the fuck I want, Camryn.”
I slap him, hitting him in the chest. “You’ve been spying on me like it’s some sort of game! It’s not cool! It’s weird! It’s what psychopaths do!”
“And that’s exactly what I am!” Stone shouts, throwing his head back and laughing. “What don’t you understand?”
His loud voice bounces off the walls of my apartment. The violence on his face, the lethal grip of his hand around my wrist, should make me rethink my rage, but being angry at him is nothing new. Right now I don’t give a shit about his wrath.
“I know everything you do, down to when you buy shaving cream. The toast you eat. The laundry detergent you use. The phone calls you make. The places you visit. The moments you masturbate while calling my name. I know it all, Camryn, and I’ll continue to know because those moments are mine! And from what I can tell,your cunt is probably wet, dripping, because you like it. You like how I watch you. You like the wicked way it feels when you submit to my depravity. You like the way it feels when I tell you what to do, when I take control of you.”
He’s right. When the hand clutching my waist snakes across my hip bone and down my naked thigh, roughly pushing between my legs, I unconsciously open them wider. He cups my pussy through the thin fabric of my shorts, and I moan at the heat of his palm. One of his fingers moves slowly between the cleft of my pussy, and I can feel where I’ve soaked the fabric.
“This pussy is always wet for me. Just like my cock always leaks for you. You may have thought it was fear, but it was fascination. The times when you don’t know that I’m there in the dark, keeping track of you, I could smell your arousal, Countess. I keep tabs on you because that’s who I am. I’m a criminal, remember? A criminal that you crave fucking.”
He’s right. I do crave him. I do like his possessive dark ways. I can’t draw the line anymore between what’s right or wrong when it comes to him.
I love him.
I know it, saying it in my mind and heart doesn’t make it less scary. I want something more. The notion that this is just sex has been decimated, demolished.He lifts me up and I wrap my arms and legs around him, pissed and aroused at his high-handedness, his audacity.I kiss him, holding onto his jaw, wildly moving my lips over his, moaning when he returns the deep kiss.
“Your mouth drives me crazy.”He groans, gripping my ass, bouncing me on his jean-covered cock. I tighten my legs, letting him edge me standing up. I could come just like this. He doesn’t even need to penetrate me. His aura is enough to get my off. “You’re a fucking asshole, but everything you do makes me want you more.”
My neck arches as he tugs on a handful of my hair. He nips at my neck, and I grip his skull, cursing at the bite. “An asshole, huh? You insulting me?”
“Yes,” I chant, rubbing my pussy on the ridge of his dick.
He leads me to the bedroom, easily carrying me. I release his head, pulling my shirt over my head, dropping it to the ground, baring my breasts to his hungry gaze. He pauses mid-step and palms one, pushing it up to his descending head. The heat from his mouth sears through me. His tongue swirls before he sucks on the tip strongly, tugging it, letting it pop out of his mouth before going back for a second, third taste. I grip his head, holding him close.
We reach my bedroom moments later, and he drops me face-first on the big bed while stripping my sleep shorts down my legs and tossing them aside, until I’m left in my thong. I spot the same place where he just removed a device, and it reminds me of what he said earlier. He listened to me masturbate earlier. I had just gotten out of the shower, wet and waiting for him.“I’m changing my locks,” I murmur, turning my head to look behind me.
He laughs, pulling hard on the string of my thong. It stretches the elastic so much so that I hear the stitches rip. The gusset covering my pussy also digs inside me. A stinging slap hits my ass. “No lock will keep me out. I’ll rip the doors off the hinges. You don’t keep me out, Camryn. I will have accessto your space, to your mouth, to your pussy, and to your ass anytime I want. You chose this. Remember that.” He slaps my ass again, and the sting makes me jump. His rough, ringed hand smooths the heated skin before he kisses the pink handprint.
