Page 14 of My Masked Stalker (Beautiful Stalkers #1)

EMILY

I run my fingers over the oddly-shaped hilt of Killian’s knife, surprised by the rubber texture, then feel its slight weight in my hand.

Would he really let me stab him? Or is it a trick, one he’ll punish me for?

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I eye the sharp, tapered tip.

This would slide easily between a man’s ribs or embed itself into his carotid.

I don’t let myself think as my fist clenches around the weapon and I bring it down, the blade cutting through the dry leaves and aerated dirt like they’re nothing.

The impact rattles up my arm, the blade vibrating in the dirt. For a moment, I can’t breathe. Neither can he. I feel it in the way he goes rigid behind me, like he actually braced for steel in his chest. The realization makes my stomach swoop.

Feeling needy and empty, I press my ass against my stalker, feeling his hard cock against my skin.

He nearly suffocated me with it earlier. It was already hard to breathe with my head hanging down, but once that thick rod entered my throat, I could only rely on his mercy. The thought of having it inside me, after weeks of his obsessive, dangerous teasing, makes my tunnel clench over nothing.

His chest rumbles against my back, a low growl that slides straight into my bones. His hand clamps over my hip, fingers biting hard enough to bruise, and the heat of him seeps into me through the thin scraps of fabric I’m wearing.

“There’s no going back now, sweetheart,” he growls through panting breaths. “You’re mine.”

One of his hands disappears from my sight, just before I feel the tip of his cock against my wet entrance.

My breathing picks up until I feel like I’m about to hyperventilate.

Am I really letting my stalker—a killer—fuck me in the dirt and leaves on Halloween night?

My body doesn’t care what he’s done, though.

My pussy is still buzzing from when he went down on me earlier.

He got me to the edge of orgasm despite my hanging upside down and suffocating on his dick.

He doesn’t tease me for long, penetrating me with the head, then sheathing himself fully inside me with two rough strokes.

I bare my teeth against the burn. I knew he wouldn’t be gentle, but despite being more turned on than I’ve ever been, his dick isn’t a modest stretch.

Not giving me much of a chance to adapt, his grip on my hips turns punishing, his hips snapping against mine with slow, deep thrusts.

His cock splits me open, raw and relentless, and I claw at the ground, dead leaves crunching under my nails. The earthy scent of damp soil mixes with his sweat and the faint tang of gun oil clinging to his skin. It’s filthy. It’s insane. It’s everything I swore I’d never want.

“Fuck,” Killian snarls, dragging me back onto him with brutal force. “Tighter than a goddamn vise.”

Each thrust grinds me into the earth, twigs and grit biting into my palms, his pelvis hitting me so hard it knocks the breath from my lungs. My whimpers turn into ragged cries, half-pleasure, half-protest, my body betraying me as it squeezes him like it’s desperate to keep him inside.

He bends low over me, his teeth grazing over the shell of my ear, his voice a rasping growl. “You feel that? That’s me carving my name into your body. You’ll walk different after this, sweetheart. Every step will remind you who you belong to.”

He slams into me again, harder, deeper, until my body jolts forward on the bed of crushed leaves. A cry rips from my throat, my face hot with shame as my pussy soaks his cock like it’s begging for more.

“That’s it,” he grits out, his chest pressing against my back. “Scream for me. Let the whole fucking forest know you’re getting ruined.”

The ground is cold beneath me, but his body is scorching, sweat dripping from his temple to fall on the back of my neck.

His pace quickens, brutal now, every snap of his hips shoving me farther into the dirt, every thrust stealing more of my will.

My thighs quake, my breath a string of gasps and broken moans.

“Say it,” he demands, his cock grinding deep, hitting a place that makes stars burst behind my eyes. “Say who you belong to.”

“Y—you,” I choke out, shame burning through me, but the orgasm building low in my belly won’t let me lie. “I’m yours, Killian!”

His growl vibrates against my skin, the sound like raw satisfaction straight from his chest. He yanks me upright against him, my back slamming to his chest as he pistons into me from behind, one hand tight around my throat, the other grinding my clit with ruthless precision.

Oh my god, I’m so fucking close.

“That’s my good girl,” he snarls into my ear. “Come on my cock. Drown me with your honey. Mark me with your fucking surrender.”

His words push me over the edge, and my body arches like a bowstring, straining against him as my orgasm tears through me.

The pressure shatters all at once, pleasure crashing into me so violently I scream, my voice raw in the cold night air.

My pussy clenches around him like a vise, pulsing, milking, my juices spilling down my thighs.

But Killian doesn’t stop.

He growls into my ear, a vicious sound of triumph, and pounds into me harder, riding out my climax like it’s just the starting gun in a long race, dragging every aftershock out of me until my thighs tremble uncontrollably.

My cry dissolves into a broken sob as another wave hits me, smaller but just as sharp, my body helpless against his relentless thrusts.

“Good girl,” he snarls, lips brushing my temple. “So wet for me. So fucking sweet. You thought I’d stop just because you came? No, sweetheart. I’m going to keep fucking this pussy until you can’t remember your own name.”

I whimper, my body twitching with overstimulation, but my pussy is still clenching around him, still begging without words.

His fingers don’t stop drawing those maddeningly tight circles over my clit, rubbing mercilessly as he continues to drive into me.

My legs kick weakly against the dirt, but he has me locked, pinned, owned.

“That’s it,” he growls, teeth scraping my ear. “I’ll break you on my cock. You’ll come again, and again, until there’s nothing left.”

My whole body convulses, nerves firing like live wires as I come undone around him. I think that’s it—I think I’ll collapse into the dirt and never move again. But Killian still doesn’t stop.

He hammers into me, dragging every clench, every spasm from my pussy like he’s mining me for more pleasure. The hand not busy between my legs rips open the ties of my corset and frees my breasts, alternatively pinching my nipples, and I let out a strangled sob, caught between agony and ecstasy.

“Don’t fight it, sweetheart,” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. “You’ve got more for me. Give it to me.”

I shake my head, gasping. “I c—can’t!”

But the lie shatters on another scream when the second orgasm rips through me, brutal and sharp. He pushes me back down, and I scrabble for purchase, my limbs useless, as my body seizes around his cock, soaking us both.

He laughs darkly, feral, and drives deeper.

My legs give out completely, but his iron grip holds me locked to him.

The overstimulation burns, sparks ricocheting through me until I don’t know if I’m crying or moaning, splaying my upper body over my red cloak as I let him move me this way and that like a rag doll.

“That’s two,” he growls, his tone triumphant. “But you’re not done, Red. Not until I say so.”

Killian starts slapping my clit with filthy sounds that are too loud in the quiet of the forest, too obscene, making my hips kick back into him no matter what my head wants. My pussy betrays me again, tightening greedily around him, and another orgasm claws its way up before I can even breathe.

The third peak hits like lightning, blinding me, tearing me apart. I gush around his cock as my thighs tremble, but Killian keeps me pinned and takes every last quake.

“That’s it,” he snarls, fucking me through the convulsions, sweat dripping from his jaw onto my cheek. “One more. I’ll tear it out of you if I have to.”

“Killian, please,” I sob, my voice wrecked. “I can’t take it anymore.”

But he doesn’t stop. It’s like he can’t.

“Yes, you can,” he growls, his hand sliding up to wrap tight around my throat, tilting my head back so his pale eyes can burn into mine. He wiped off most of the paint, revealing smudged, tanned skin. “One more for me, sweetheart. Open those pretty legs and give me everything.”

I can only shake my head weakly, tears streaking down my temples, but my body obeys his orders.

His thumb presses into my clit with ruthless precision, each thrust angled to grind him against that spot deep inside me.

The pressure builds sharp and hot, unbearable, unbelievable, and then it detonates.

The fourth orgasm rips through me with savage force, my scream muffled by his kiss as his mouth crushes down over mine for the first time. My pussy clamps so hard around him it drags a broken roar from his chest.

“That’s it,” he snarls against my lips, his thrusts turning frantic, brutal, his cock swelling inside me. “You’re mine, Emily. Say it.”

“I’m yours,” I gasp, half-plea, half-surrender.

His groan is guttural, torn from somewhere primal as his release floods my pussy in thick, hot pulses, his cum spilling deep, filling me until it leaks down my thighs. He doesn’t slow—he buries himself to the hilt, grinding against me, marking me inside and out until the last drop spills.

When his thrusts finally taper off, he slumps against me, his breath ragged, his weight crushing and comforting all at once. My body shakes uncontrollably beneath him, every nerve raw, every muscle spent.

He presses his lips to my ear, his voice dark and satisfied. “No one else will ever touch you again. You’re mine now. Marked, filled, owned.”