Bounty Hunter

ZinniaThis belongs to NôvelDrama.Org: ©.

My stalker trails his index finger from my leg, up my thighs, brushing momentarily at my centre and up to my breast. He grabbed my left boobs and squeezed it hard, then pinched my nipples, letting it go with a slap.

His touch left crackles of fire in my skin which ignited as soon as he grabbed my neck and squeezed it hard.

The fact that I enjoyed how he rough handled made me question my Sanity. The fact that I moaned at his every touch, made me ashamed, yet, I couldn’t stop the rain that was gradually pulling in between my legs.

Every thought I had about escaping was down the drain. Now, the only thing I could think of, was if he would leave me wanting like he did the last time.

“Look at you, my little flower. Look at how you squirm at my every touch. You love this, don’t you? Then why the fuck do you want to file a formal complaint at the precinct?” He growled, straddling me.

Fuck! How did he know I had plans of going to the station? I opened my mouth to speak, but he spat inside of it, and the next thing I knew, his hand made contact with my cheeks, pain and desire coursing throughout my body.

I should be scared, fucking hell, not getting more aroused with every passing second.

What in the actual fuck is wrong with me?

“Please,” I murmured. I wasn’t sure what I was begging for. Perhaps for him to release me? Or for him to hit me again, because for some sick reason, the pain he inflicts on me makes me weter.

He smirked. “You greedy little slut, you like being at my mercy? It turns you one, doesn’t it?”

I wanted to say no, but words failed me. Then I relied on my head but that motherfucker betrayed me by nodding.

He got off me and the bed, then walked over to a cupboard I’d just noticed and picked up a key, and he walked back to me.

Realisation dawned on me, and it was replaced with temporal sadness, thinking he was finally letting me go.

But he only released my feet and positioned himself between my legs. He grabbed me from the waist, making sure my legs were on either side of his shoulder.

“Look at how wet you are for me, my dirty little slut. I’m going to eat you now, my little flower,” his eyes made contact with mine as he spoke, and then he proceeded to lick his lips before burying himself at my centre.

I moaned out, louder than I even thought possible. My legs trembled and I wanted nothing more than to grab his thick jet black hair, but the shackles on my hands made it impossible.

A violent spasm of orgasm builds in the pit of my stomach as my stalker flicked his tongue over my clit, before sliding his tongue over my slit and down to my entrance, scooping all of my juices.

Just as I was about to sshamelessly cum on his face, he stopped, making me frown.

A wicked and devilish smile spread on his face as he walked back to the small table.

“What are you doing? Why did you stop?” I questioned my stalker without an iota of shame. He rested his body against the table and put one foot over the other.

“Why should I make you cum? You don’t deserve it,” he murmured, and even in the darkness of the room, I knew there was a sinister smile on his face.

“So what, are you going to leave me like you did the last time?”

This time, he approached me. “I should.” He replied as he dipped in the spot next to me.

Seeing as my legs were now free, I could always kick him, but I feared that would only vex him, and God only knows what he’s capable of.

“But I won’t. Or should I?” He tilted his head quizzically, as though stuck between making a life-threatening decision. What he didn’t know was, that my situation was threatening. Not my life, no. But my Sanity.

“Why are you doing this? Why do you stalk me? Why do you torture me?” I hated how my voice betrayed me.

“Because my little flower, I get off your fear. The look of terror on your face when you read my message, or when you received my gifts made my cock hardened. I want to ruin every little part of your my little flower. I will peel off every layer of your skin and replace it with mine.”

My heart threatened to explode as I listened to him. This man was more crazy than I expected, and right now, I was his captive. I should scream for help. It would be futile, but it would prove to him that I didn’t want to be here.

But I opened my mouth, and nothing came out. If anything, I got more aroused by his threat. My body shivered in utter pleasure, imagining all his words come to life.

I swallowed a gulp.

No. This isn’t right. I shouldn’t be feeling this way. This is all sorts of fucked up and I shouldn’t be reeling into it.

I closed my eyes and swallowed back saliva.

“Please, I beg of you. Just let me go,” I pleaded.

A frown appeared on my stalker’s face as I voiced out those words. He rose to his feet with a jolt, angrily kicking at the small cupboard where he rested his weight a few minutes ago.

I gasped in fear, watching as he paced back and forth. Then, in long strides, he was next to me again, this time, merely inches away from my face.

Tears pooled up in my eyes. He grabbed my chin with force, forcing my gaze on him. I tried to look away, but I couldn’t. Not from his hand forcefully grabbing my face, but because I was lost in his cold violet stare.

“I will make you mine, Zinnia. Mark my words,”

Those were the final words I heard my stalker murmur before a cloth was placed over my nose and my eyelids gradually closed.

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