24. Talon

24

TALON

Three weeks later…

I ’ve been watching her for weeks, tracking her every move like a predator stalking its prey. Lena Graves is the only light in my dark and twisted world. She’s the reason I breathe, the reason I exist. And now, she’s here in Boston, so close I can almost taste her.

I hate that she’s being forced to live with that scumbag David. The thought of him touching her drives me insane. I can’t stand the way he looks at her like she’s a piece of meat for him to devour. It takes every ounce of self-control I have not to rip his fucking throat out.

But I bide my time, watching from the shadows. I memorize her schedule and her routines. I know when she leaves for class, goes to the library to study, and grabs coffee with her friends. I’m always there, just out of sight.

Sometimes, I get close enough to catch her scent, that intoxicating blend of vanilla and jasmine that haunts my dreams. I imagine burying my face in her hair, inhaling deeply as I claim her as mine again. She belongs to me, even if she needs a reminder.

I slip into her apartment like a shadow, my heart racing with anticipation. The thrill of being surrounded by her things in her space is almost too much to bear. I move through the rooms silently, my fingers trailing over her belongings, memorizing every detail. I go to the kitchen and rearrange the mugs in her cupboard, placing her favorite one at the back. I imagine her frustration as she searches for it in the morning, a small reminder of my presence in her life.

Then, I head to her bedroom, the most intimate space. Her scent is strongest here, enveloping me like a warm embrace. I run my hand over her pillows, imagining her lying there, her dark hair fanned out around her like a halo.

I can’t resist the temptation to touch her things. I open her dresser drawers, running my fingers over her soft, silky underwear. I pick up a lacy red thong, bringing it to my face and inhaling deeply. The thought of her wearing it, the fabric caressing her most intimate places, sends a shiver down my spine.

The heady scent of her fills my nostrils, and I feel my cock twitch in response. I ache for her, my skin buzzing with need for her.

I spot a laundry basket in the corner of the room and move towards it, my heart pounding. Digging through her dirty clothes, I feel like a fucking creep, but I can’t stop myself. I need to find something, anything intimate and hers.

Then I see a pale pink thong, slightly crumpled and scented with her musk. My breath catches as I bring it to my face, inhaling her unique fragrance. I groan, my hands tightening around the delicate fabric.

I kick the basket aside and unzip my pants, freeing my already hardening cock. I wrap her thong around my hand and start stroking, my eyes shut tight as I imagine her beneath me, crying out my name. Her scent surrounds me, fueling my fantasy, my need for her.

I work myself into a frenzy, my hips thrusting as I picture her looking up at me with those beautiful, haunted eyes. I want to dominate her, claim her, brand her as mine.

The soft and silky item in my hand brings me back to reality. I realize what I’m doing and where I am. I glance around, half-expecting to see her walk in and catch me in the act. But the room is empty and silent except for the sound of my own harsh breathing.

My heart is pounding, my body coiled tight with anticipation. I know I shouldn’t be doing this, but I can’t stop myself.

My eyes land on the pot of moisturizer on her nightstand. It’s perfect. I twist off the lid, exposing the creamy, fragrant contents. Then, still holding her thong in one hand, I stroke myself harder, faster.

Her face fills my mind—her flushed cheeks, her lips parted in pleasure. I imagine her soft moans as I thrust into her, claiming her body, her soul. The thought pushes me closer to the edge, and I groan, my hand moving frantically now.

I glance down, watching my cock disappear into the soft fabric, and then back up at the pot of moisturizer. My eyes flick between the two, my heart pounding harder with each thrust. I’m so close now.

A strangled groan escapes me as I jerk my cock a few more times, aiming my release into the pot of lotion. I picture her rubbing it onto her skin, my cum soaking into her, marking her as irrevocably mine.

As the last spurt leaves me, I collapse back against the bed, my heart hammering in my chest. I’m breathing heavily, my body slick with sweat. I gaze down at the pot, half-filled with my release, and feel a sense of satisfaction mixed with a burning need for more.

My breath comes in ragged gasps as I use my finger to work the cum into the creamy lotion. I want her to wear this, to rub it all over her perfect body, unknowingly coating herself with me.

A noise in the adjoining apartment startles me, bringing me back to my senses. I need to get out of here. I tuck myself back into my pants, buttoning them hastily, and slip Lena’s used panties into my jacket pocket. I glance around the room, making sure I’ve left subtle differences. Her underwear drawer is still slightly ajar, the thong on the top. Then, with one last look at the pot of moisturizer, I slip out of her bedroom, my pulse still racing.

I make my way back to the shadows, to the safety of the darkness that has become my home. But my mind remains with her, my Lena, and the scent of her that still lingers on my fingers from her dirty thong.