Kate
The next week passes in a total blur. I’m happy. Not content—it’s not deep enough for that. There’s too much uncertainty and fear in the background. The dark presence of my stalker out there presses in on each minute of my day. Like a dark shroud hanging over me, stopping me from truly feeling the sun of what is happening between Reece and me.
Not that I know what is happening. It’s somewhat of a whirlwind. We talk, read in companionable silence, go for walks, and to the beach. Mostly we have sex. I can’t call it making love because it’s rawer than that, baser.
He takes me with a fierce passion, and he likes to leave marks on me. A small nip here, love bite there, the tiny bruise where his fingers gripped my hips.
I stretch in the bath and look down my body to where a couple of bruises mar my thigh. I love them. Love these stains on my body. Does that make me sick? I love the marks I give him in return too. Scratches on his back. Tiny crescents on his chest where I dug my fingernails in. The love bite I gave him on his neck.
Even now, aching after a marathon fuck, I’m wanting him again. The only reason he hasn’t joined me in the bath is because he’s doing some stuff on the computer, trying to find out more about my lurking friend. Except, it isn’t easy because my stalker isn’t stupid. He doesn’t send emails or do things that leave a digital footprint. The bastard.
I hate him, and I want him caught, but part of me strangely yearns for this to linger. This foggy limbo I am stuck in, so long as Reece is caught in it with me. The outside world has faded, become a surreal place I venture out to every now and again, and this life, in here, is my new reality.
As the days have slipped by my hunger for Reece hasn’t burned out as I thought, it has only grown. Not only do I want him, but I like him, and enjoy being with him. I tell myself it’s only because I’ve been alone for so long, and any company would be good, but I know it’s a lie. I know I’m falling for him.
We went for a walk around the nearest village yesterday, and I popped into a small store that sold local craft items. I bought him a wooden lighthouse that reminds me of the one we can see from the upstairs landing window here. He’d been on the phone and waited outside, giving me the perfect opportunity to get him something. I’d stashed it in my bag, and not said anything. The woman at the till had given me a conspiratorial smile, as if she knew I’d bought it for my lover, but that was probably fanciful thinking on my part.
I want to give it him tonight. The water is cooling around me, so I stand and reach for the towel.
Skin dripping, I pat myself dry but don’t take all the moisture off. Then I reach for my fig scented body mist and spritz it all over. I’ve shaved in the shower, every nook and cranny. The first time we did it, I had auburn hair on my vajayjay, now I’ve shaved it all off, liking the extra sensitivity of the bare skin.
Smiling, I grab my one pair of fancy panties and matching bra and put them on. The bottoms are French knicker style and a creamy silk, the bra is matching and a balconette, which gives me a wicked cleavage.
Not putting anything else on, I leave the bathroom and go to my bedroom, where I take the perfume that matches my body mist and spritz some on my wrists. I feel wanton, lustful, feminine. All things I’ve not experienced in ages.
I had planned to seduce Reece later, once we went to bed, but suddenly, I don’t want to wait.
Heading back out of the bedroom, I pause at the top of the stairs and listen. Reece isn’t on the phone and I can’t hear the loud tapping of him on his laptop, I swear he must go through a lot of them because he hammers the keyboard.
With a small smile, I head downstairs, and hope he’ll like my surprise. When I turn toward the lounge area, I see he’s lit the fire and is on the rug in front of it, coffee on the low coffee table by him, his phone in hand as he reads something.
Keeping my steps light, I approach, but he looks up before I’ve taken four steps. Damn military hearing.
He smiles at me, looks back to his phone, and then does a classic double take. On his second look back, a slow smile spreads across his gorgeous face.
“Well, well, well, look at you, all clean and shiny.” His words are deep but not mocking.
My skin has a soft sheen from the oily body mist, and in the low light of the room, I feel sexy for once, not worried about my cellulite or any stretch marks. One of the advantages of being in hiding in this house is that we live in a perpetual twilight, with the shutters down and soft lighting inside.
“Were you cold?” I glance at the fire. Outside it will be twilight now, and it’s been cool today, with grey skies and a wind, not the sun we’ve been lucky to have recently.
“No, but the forecast is for a storm.”
I nod.
“Thought I may as well get this going before it does get chilly.” He pats the rug by him. “Come here.”
I do as he says and walk to him, standing as he looks up at me, his eyes taking their time to travel the length of my body.
Sitting up on his heels, he pulls me to him, and kisses me right on my clit through the silk of my knickers. I give a small gasp of surprise. He runs one finger down the seam of the pants and then looks at me with raised brows. “What do we have here?”
He pulls the material to one side and strokes again. “Smooth. Did you shave yourself for me, cupcake?”
I nod, and swallow down a suddenly dry throat. There’s something extra predatory about him tonight.
“Did you know,” he says conversationally, “that spanking over silk feels and sounds different to the way it feels on skin?”
I draw in breath and freeze. He hasn’t spanked me, or mentioned it, despite me telling him I liked it. I figured maybe it wasn’t his thing, and I was partly relieved, not sure I was ready to go there myself. Not since Stalker Boy came on the scene. Also…Reece is big. He’s powerful in a way few men are, I can get off from that alone, from his big body above me, or holding me. From the way when he grips me at the height of things, it leaves small bruises on my skin. All of it gets me off in a big way.
“Come here.” He stands and walks over to the sofa, where he beckons me with a crooked finger. I do as he says and follow him.
Once there, he pulls both my hands behind my back in one of his. Holding me firm, but tenderly at my wrists.
“I want to spank you over these knickers so badly. You need a safe word for this.”
My heart is hammering hard and fast but I don’t want to wuss out, want to see where this leads. “Red,” I reply unimaginatively.
“Okay.” He gives me a terse nod. “Say it again, what is it?”
“Red.”
With no further preamble, no silly words about what a naughty girl I’ve been and I need a punishment, he pushes me over his knee. My toes almost leave the floor and I wonder if I’ll topple over but he’s holding me, one arm under my chest securing me there, his knees supporting my thighs.
“I’m going to give you fifteen, and they won’t be hard, only enough to turn this gorgeous arse of yours a nice pink,” he tells me.
I brace myself, and the first hit when it comes makes me give a little cry of outrage. If he considers that not hard then I’d not like to experience his going at it.
The next stroke is lighter, he’s tempered it in response to me. I wiggle my bottom a little on the third stroke, playing up a bit and the fourth is harder. Okay, so it’s like that is it?
He smooths his hand over the silky material after the sixth stroke, soothing my already heated flesh. He’s alternating between cheeks and something about him doing it over my panties makes it so much more deliciously naughty.
When he gets to ten, it’s starting to sting. “Ow,” I complain.
He laughs, deep and so fucking sexy. “You’re a bit of a brat, aren’t you?”
Two more slaps come in quick succession. Then he’s almost done, but as he brings his hand down for the last two, his other hand goes from under my chest, and moments later his fingers part my folds.
“So wet. You’re a naughty brat who loves this.” He leans in and whispers in my ear. “Next time, maybe we’ll have to use a riding crop, and not that silly pink thing you’ve got but a real one. Pull your hair into a ponytail and tug your head back while I whip you.”
Oh my God! The picture he paints with his words has me pressing against his fingers.
I’m suddenly done with being submissive, and want him so much I struggle to my feet as he finishes spanking me. He watches me for a moment and grins when I grab a condom from his wallet on the side and then sink to my knees between his legs. I take him out of his trousers and suck him down deep, but I don’t give him my mouth for long. After a minute of sucking, I get up and straddle him. I stare into his eyes as I sheath him in the condom and then sink down on him, gasping as he fills me.
I want this hard and fast and so I ride him the way I need it. Taking my pleasure from him, using him almost, not that he seems to mind, he’s grunting on every downward stroke I make.
Soon, he grabs my hips and uses his strength to piston me up and down on him. Our flesh is slapping together, we are breathing heavily, and we’re both slicked in sweat. The sounds and scents of sex fill the air.
“Shit, I’m gonna come.” The look of surprise on Reece’s face. The fact he’s lost control, it serves to send me toward the edge, too, and as he groans and comes like crazy, I tip over and clench around him.
I didn’t use my fingers. It takes a moment to sink in that I didn’t touch my clit and I still came. He got me so worked up I came from penetration alone.
He leans back, breathing hard, and I take a moment to admire the burning hotness that is him. All golden and muscled, and now sated. Like a lion who has eaten his fill and is surveying all he owns.
We cuddle for a short while, and then I shiver as the sweat cools on my skin. In one fluid motion, Reece picks me up, and carries me to the rug in front of the fire where he gently lays me down, curling around me from behind, giving me his body heat.
We lay in front of the fire for a long while, but then I remember my gift.
“I’ll be back in a moment,” I tell a sleepy Reece before I get up and head to the dining room table, where my handbag lies. Unzipping it, I take out the gift, and bring it, wrapped in thin white tissue paper, to Reece. I hold it out.
“What’s this?” He frowns at it.
“A gift. For you.”
He looks at it and smiles, but then it falls from his face. “How did you pay for it?”
“Cash. I’m not an idiot.”
He sighs. “Okay. Good.”
I doubt my stalker has access to my bank details but in case he does, I never pay for things with cards anymore unless I have absolutely no choice. Direct debits for most of my bills come from my parents’ account, so things like my phone and TV package can’t be traced back to me. I pay them money whenever I see them to cover it. More than cover it. It means they get to do nice things, go on fantastic holidays and enjoy their golden years. After all, I’ve got more money than I need. Last year my books earned me nearly a million pounds, because one of them was sold for film rights. Doesn’t matter if the movie gets made or not, it earned me a ton of money.
I can’t spend it, stuck as I am as a prisoner of my stalker, but even if I could go out and about, I’m not one for the fancy things in life. I love my expensive face creams, and perfumes, but that’s about it. Clothes wise, I like them to be well made, but I don’t buy a lot of clothes. I don’t even love shoes, unlike most women. I prefer comfy sandals, boots in winter, or running shoes. Even if I were free to do as I wished, I’d still give a lot of my money away.
With an almost childlike glee, Reece tears the wrapper from the gift, snapping me out of my thoughts. I smile at his actions. He’s not methodical, or careful, like I am when I unwrap something. In a lot of ways, he reminds me of a Golden Retriever trapped in a human body. Big, happy, goes full-on for life every day, but he has a darker side. A distinctly un-Golden Retriever-like side. The way we fuck reminds me of that. What he does for a living reminds me of that. I would never underestimate Reece, but I imagine his sunny disposition, and his good looks have led many people to do exactly that. More’s the pity for them.
When the lighthouse appears, he looks at it for a long moment, turning it around in his long fingers, admiring the paint work, which matches the one outside the window here exactly.
“I love it.” He looks at me, eyes crinkled with sexy lines at the corners where he’s smiling.
“It’s a small reminder of here. Of…us.” I say it hesitantly. Not sure there even is an us but hoping in some ways there can be. Even if it is an us that can’t last, I want this to be real. To be something more than meaningless sex.
“If there is an us?” Crap, me and my big mouth. I put it out there, and then wait, heart in my throat.
“There’s an us, Kate. What it means going forward, I have no idea. My work…it takes me all over. You’re living in Scotland. I’m not great at relationships. I mean, I want one, but I screw it up somehow.”
I put my hand on his arm. I hate the words he’s saying to me. The excuses he’s making, the shutters he’s bringing down already. Not wanting to show how upset I am, how vulnerable. I smile. “I get it, Reece. I feel the same way. This is of a time and place, the here and now. I simply wanted to know if there was something happening for you, too. Not only me.”
“Not only you,” he says, and picks my hand up from his arm, kissing my knuckles. It should be affectionate, but it feels like a brush off.
“I need the loo.”
I head out of the room, blinking back my tears. I should never have gotten involved with him. He’s blindingly beautiful, a god walking amongst us mere mortals. A golden, sun hued god. And I am a drab mouse of a woman when it comes right down to it. I’ll probably see him one day, in the dim and distant future, on the news, married to some gorgeous model he was paid to protect. And then because I have a far too active imagination, I see it all clearly playing out in front of me. Him and her, both gorgeous, both golden, burning up in one another’s orbit.
Mere mortals like me shouldn’t dare fly too close to the sun.
I did, and now I’m going to get burned.