Page 6 of Darkness Tempt Me (Bloody Desires #7)

Chapter six

Peyton

T his is insane. Pure fucking insanity. A part of me knows Mavik can’t really be out on my patio, but fuck, I kind of wish he was. God, what is wrong with me? Why the hell would my rich, gorgeous boss stalk me?

My eyes bounce back over to my bookshelf, and I chuckle again.

Damn my love for dark romances. I swear the stories have rotted my brain cells and have turned me into a horny, hopeless romantic.

Mavik is not some secret mafia man or crime lord.

My boss isn’t part of some secret society of psychopaths ready to murder the scum of the world.

The whole thing is absolutely ridiculous, and yet I shimmy out of my pants anyway, hoping to give my imaginary stalker a damn good show. It might be my imagination, but why the hell shouldn’t I enjoy my night?

Lust trails down my spine at the memory of Mavik’s hand on my back, paired with that angry look on his face.

He was so damn possessive. Guilt momentarily gnaws at me as I think of my brother, but I shove those thoughts to the side.

I might like a little manhandling with an edge of pain, but everything I want would be consensual, with safe words in place.

I might like relinquishing control to my partner, but I would hold all the cards.

I would be able to stop things whenever I wanted.

My gaze snaps back over to my sliding glass doors.

It’s so dark outside I can’t see a thing, but I swear I feel eyes on me.

This isn’t anything like the weird, creepy feeling I’ve been getting during daylight hours.

This is Mavik. He’s always made me feel safe.

Could Mavik actually be out there? My phone vibrates, and I peer down at the message.

Mavik: Yes. Show me more.

My heart flutters with fear and excitement. I never strip in front of the glass door like this. In fact, I have blackout curtains because I’m paranoid as fuck. But there’s something naughty and exhilarating in knowing that I’m doing this for my boss.

Fuck, I blame him for flirting with me. Seriously, what’s gotten into him?

Mavik: I said, show me more.

The image of Mavik standing just outside my door comes to mind. I imagine him watching me, so overcome with lust that he unzips his pants and fishes out his thick cock.

I’m so damn hard that my tiny panties can’t contain my erection.

The hard tip of my cock is sticking out of them, leaking precum.

My fingertips lightly trace my length. I’m so fucking sensitive, my knees buckle, and I almost collapse to the floor.

“Oh, fuck,” I whisper, regaining my composure.

How the hell am I this turned on? I play with my tip.

“Mavik,” I moan, slowly spinning around and bending over seductively as I peel my panties down.

They drop to my ankles. I lift my right foot and step out of them before bending over again and spreading my cheeks.

I turn back around and sit on my sofa, placing my feet on the cushions and spreading my legs.

I pretend Mavik is out there stroking his thick cock as I show him my hole.

The phone next to me is silent. I haven’t replied to Mavik’s text, and he hasn’t sent me another one.

I glance at the glass door and blush harder when all I see is my needy, desperate reflection.

Fuck. Is that really me? I look wild and sexy, and call me crazy, but I still feel like someone is out there.

Watching. The idea of Mavik watching me should scare me, but it only stokes the fire, calling to the darkest parts of my soul.

I begin stroking my cock. Slow at first, but it doesn’t take me long until I’m a whimpering, trembling mess.

I pick up my speed as the pleasure builds.

Despite how turned on I am, I feel like something is missing.

I feel so empty and wish I’d brought my dildo out to play.

Closing my eyes, I stroke my cock desperately.

I was never any good at fingering myself, so instead, I just pretend Mavik is already inside of me, stretching me, making me burn so good while his thick fingers wrap around my length.

He jerks me off in time to his erratic thrusts.

Something is still missing. I need something… more. But Mavik knows what I need: his gorgeous, thick hand wrapped around my throat. I use my free hand to wrap my fingers around the front of my neck and squeeze.

“Oh fuck, Mavik,” I call out desperately.

I swear, those eyes from outside are still on me.

Mavik’s words replay in my head to the sound of his deep voice.

‘ What would you do if I told you I was watching you? Following every little movement you make?’ I thrust my leaking cock against my hand, pumping my hips while I hold my breath and cut off my own air. So close. I’m so fucking close.

“Mavik, I’m going to come,” I shout. Can he hear me? Does he see how horny I am for him?

His imaginary voice whispers in my ear. “ That’s it, boy. Come for Daddy .”

“Yes, Mavik, yes!” I scream, letting go of my throat right at the exact moment I climax.

The lack of oxygen causes me to orgasm hard as thick white ropes of cum coat my stomach, my chest, and my neck.

I suck in a deep breath, my chest rising and falling.

Desire, satisfaction, and happiness flood me like a hit of dopamine and oxytocin.

Peeling my eyes open, my gaze is instantly drawn to the glass door. I spot my reflection first, but then something about it seems strange. My eyes focus on the white blur just above my head, and my whole body seizes up in fear.

Scrambling off the sofa, I stare, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm in my chest.

There’s a man in a skull mask standing on the other side of the glass, staring at me.

My eyes drop to the wooden bar against my sliding door, the only real barricade between me and this stranger.

There’s no way the man can get in, not unless he breaks the glass.

Grabbing my phone, I run forward and flip on my patio light.

I’m going to take a photo of this motherfucker.

But when the light floods my patio, I realize no one is there. My outdoor furniture and even the bushes behind the railing look undisturbed. I blink, staring hard outside with my camera app ready to photograph, but nothing happens.

No one is out there. It was just my imagination. My gaze trails down to my phone, and the last message exchanged between Mavik and me was the one where he demanded I show him more. A shiver runs down my spine. There’s no way it was actually him, right?

Just as I’m about to shut off the light and close my curtains, something draws my eyes to the center of the patio table.

A blooming white gardenia covered in what looks like splattered drops of blood.