Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Granger

I pace back and forth in front of the bed.

My stomach is in fucking knots. A lot like the ones I used to tie Peyton to my headboard. This is bad. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I told myself as soon as we were in a real relationship, I would stop following her, watching her at work, during the night, following her everywhere she goes. But she found out about my extra-curricular activities before I could make myself stop and now I could lose her.

There’s a logical part of me that knows I never would have stopped, though. Twenty years into our marriage, I’d be stalking her. Until the end of my life, I’d be watching from the edges of her awareness, making sure no other man tries to claim what’s mine. Making sure she’s safe and happy. What else am I supposed to do when Peyton walking the earth is the equivalent of having my heart walking around outside my body?

I stop pacing long enough to take stock of her pale face, her chattering teeth. She’s scared. Might as well rip out my insides. Peyton experiencing fear is the last thing I want. It’s worse torture than the cock cage.

“Granger, you can’t keep me tied up forever,” she says, pulling on the restraints. “Please. I’m scared.”

“Scared?” I rip my fingers through my hair, frustration clawing at my throat. “Don’t you know I’d put a bullet between my own eyes before I hurt you?”

Processing that, she wets her lips. “I won’t call the police.”

“Peyton, the police are the last thing I’m concerned about.” My voice is threadbare, raw. “I just can’t have you running away from me. I’ll go insane.”

She goes limp on the bed and I can’t help it, her surrender turns my dick hard. I’ve never seen anything more luscious in my life than Peyton tied to my bed with her blouse unbuttoned to her navel, the skirt rucked up from struggling. Maybe I am sick. Maybe I’m a psychopath. Her fear horrifies me, but this…this offering she represents has a very different effect on my body.

A voice in the back of my head urges me to kiss her, fuck her until she gives in and understands this relationship is inevitable. Until she wants me back again. But my refusal to do that is what separates me from her stepbrother. I need her to need me back. I need her to look at me like she did when I showed up at the school. As if I was her savior. As if she couldn’t live without me.

“How long have you been following me?” She watches me carefully. “Did it start b-before that night on the road?”

“No.” I shake my head. “No, we met by chance. I turned the corner and there you were. A beautiful fairy. Mine to love, mine to keep safe.”

Her lips part on the word love. And I want to say more. Want to tell her exactly how deep my feelings run. Love? Love is only the tip of the iceberg. But I bite down hard on my tongue and tell myself not to dig myself a deeper hole.

“You’ve been dressing like the janitor so you can watch me,” she whispers, squeezing her eyes closed, tipping her head back on the pillow. “These last couple of days, I felt something odd. A tingle at the back of my neck.”

There’s something about the way she says the words in that throaty tone of voice…it’s how she called my name while I was planted inside of her. Curiously, I study her body language and find her thighs pressed together tightly, her stomach dipping and creating a hollow, as if her pussy is flexed and it’s uncomfortable for her. It’s too much to hope that she’s turned on by my stalking, though. It’s purely wishful thinking.

“After that math teacher asked you out, I couldn’t take any chances,” I say, turning away from her and sitting down on the edge of the bed. “I physically couldn’t do it. Let you dance off every morning looking so fucking sweet and pretty, knowing there would be men around who’d covet you. Allowing that would be like hammering a nail into my skull, Peyton.”

“Well you didn’t need to worry. The next time I saw Paul, he ran from the room as if I had the plague…” The bed springs creak behind me. “Did you have something to do with that?”

“Yes.” I look at her hard over my shoulder, unable to disguise my possessiveness. “And I don’t regret it.”

“You’re crazy,” she whispers, but her eyes turn slightly glassy, her legs shifting, rubbing together beneath the raised hem of her skirt.

Stop reading into everything she does. She thinks you’re crazy.

You are crazy.

I take several bracing breaths, searching my mind for a way to make her understand me, my actions. “Where I come from, the way I grew up, Peyton…” It’s unnatural to talk about my past. I haven’t done it before. Confided in anyone. “I spent most of my days starving, trying to find scraps just to stay alive. My parents were never home. They tried to make ends meet in the beginning, but feeding three kids on minimum wage is hard. It’s a daily grind. And when they lost those jobs and leaned heavily on alcohol, that’s where all the money went. In my house, in my neighborhood, if you wanted something, you had to fight for it. Power, food, money, sometimes my life. Same in prison. Everything is life or death. And then you…you appeared.” I dig my fingers into my knees, wishing I was touching her instead. “You’re the first person I’ve ever needed. I had to fight to keep you the only way I know how. Playing dirty. Playing for keeps. Playing not to lose you.”

Peyton is quiet so long, I’m starting to wonder if she heard me. Then, “I know something about that kind of life, Granger. You know where I grew up.” Her voice turns hesitant. “But I wouldn’t stalk someone I wanted. Following them and—”

My groan cuts her off. It comes from deep down inside of me. “Ah honey, the thought of you stalking me…” I angle my body so she can see my erection. So she can watch me scrub my palm over it roughly. “If I came home and found you going through my things, if I caught you spying on me across the street from my garage, it would make me fucking burn, baby.”

Her breath comes faster. “You would like it?”

“Like it? No, I’d be in heaven. I crave it.” I pull down my zipper because I’m getting too hard to remain trapped in my jeans. My cock pushes out through the opening, protruding against the front of my briefs and I shudder at the semi-relief. “If you even showed a hint of jealousy, like I did over that math prick, I’d spend a week eating your pussy until the feeling went away. I’d find whoever made you jealous and I’d fuck you right in front of them. You would know I’m yours. But you…doing things to ensure it…I can’t help how hot it makes me.”

“It makes you feel…secure,” she whispers throatily. “Important.”

As if she understands.

Does she?

I look back at Peyton over my shoulder and notice the dazed expression on her face, her heels digging into the mattress, hips shifting. Is it possible that she’s turned on instead of scared? “Peyton, talk to me,” I demand raggedly, turning and climbing onto the bed beside her, running a finger in circles around the hard peak of her nipple. “Your body is telling me you need a fuck.”

Her back arches into my touch, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “I don’t understand it,” she says, so quietly I almost can’t make out her words. “Is there something wrong with me that I still…”

I search her face eagerly. “Still what?”

“Still want you.” Her exhale is shaky. “M-maybe even want you more…knowing what you’ve been doing?”

The sky above me is opening up and light is pouring through. Am I dreaming or did she really just confess to wanting me, despite my actions? That her desire for me has been amplified because of them? Hope ripping through my chest, I scrutinize her expression and find her peeking up at me through her lashes, cheeks flushed. In need of reassurance. In need of me, against all odds. “No, honey. There’s nothing wrong with you.” I straddle her hips, bracing my hands on either side of her head and leaning down to kiss her, moaning jaggedly when she actually kisses me back. “There isn’t a single bad thing about you…” I kiss my way down her throat, licking a path between her tits. “My sweet little obsession is perfect. Perfect in every way.”

I slide my fingers into the waistband of her skirt and pull it down to reveal her drenched panties. She tries to cross her legs and hide the telltale wetness from me, but I don’t allow it, pushing her knees wide on the bed. “Granger…” She squirms, starting to pant. “I d-don’t know if I want to let myself be okay with this. I don’t know what that means about me. I’m scared of who I’ll become if we…”

“Let this obsession run wild?”

A beat passes, followed by her nod. “Yes.”

I drop my mouth to her stomach, dragging my tongue over her belly button and dipping it inside firmly, wiggling it until she whimpers. And all the while, I’m tugging the panties down her legs, baring that exquisitely tight pussy to me completely. “Let me do a little convincing, baby,” I mutter thickly, settling my mouth over the top of her slit and inhaling deeply, then slicking my tongue through her damp folds. “Good girl, tasting like my come.”

The restraints groan as she jerks, whining my name when I go to town, spreading the lips of her pussy with two fingers and bathing her with my tongue. Her taste combined with mine is so goddamn sweet and right, I get dizzy, my hips struggling for friction against the edge of the bed. I sip on her clit, loving it roughly, then gently, trailing my fingers down her inner thigh so I can slide my middle and ring fingers inside of her. Fuck. As hard as I pounded her earlier, she’s still virginal in her tightness. So much that I struggle to get both fingers inside, moaning in victory when she gets wetter at my touch, easing my way in.

I think of her stalking me, stealing my things, rolling around in my bed naked when I’m not home and secretly watching me while I shower. The imagery has me fucking the bed and grunting like a boar, trying to get my cock some relief, even as I focus on hers. Even as I work my fingers in and out of her slippery, little sex, feeling her clit swell on my tongue with every stoke and jiggle until she’s crying out, yanking on the restraints and wrapping her thighs around my head.

After what happened tonight, I thought I would have to beg for this. I thought it would take me months or even years to earn the privilege of pleasuring her again. But she’s not only allowing it, she’s so fucking hot for my tongue, she grinds her cunt down on it, her breathy whimpers filling the room. Filling my head. And with a shaking twist of her hips, she orgasms, coating my mouth, my chin, with the bliss I’ve wrung from her beloved body.

“Granger,” she gasps. “Please.”

We’re connected. She’s a part of me and I’m a part of her, so I don’t have to question what she wants. Needs. I climb up her body, cock in hand, and deliver it between her spread thighs, rutting her violently without hesitation. And she screams for it, her small tits bouncing wildly with the force of my pumps.

“This is your stalker fucking you, baby,” I growl in her ear. “You’re going to cream for the man who obsesses over you and this pussy every second of the day. Do you know how many times I had to lock myself in the janitor’s closet and bash my fucking fists against the wall because I needed to be inside you so bad?” The headboard slaps the wall in quick succession, in perfect timing with our smacking flesh. “I’m going to eat you alive, you tight little fairy.”

Her eyes widen and I think I’ve gone too far. Until she says, “Do it.”

I can almost hear the creaking hinges on the cage inside of me, the beast charging free of its prison. Keeping my cock buried deep, deep enough to make her whine loudly and dig her heels into my ass, I reach up and free her wrists from the restraints. But I don’t give her a chance to use her hands. No, I slide my shaft out of her sleek body and drag her off the bed, pinning her facedown to the floor.

Retrieving the rope from the bed, I bind her wrists quickly at the small of her back, blood and obsession and lust pounding in my head. Once her hands are secured, I knee Peyton’s thighs apart roughly and drive into her from behind, my roaring curse ringing out in the bedroom.

I clap my hand over her mouth to muffle her screams and fuck her, gnashing my teeth against her ear, some sick, animal part of me taking over, having been given the freedom from her acceptance. To run amok. To take without reservation.

“This is what would have happened if I didn’t put my cock in that cage,” I say hoarsely, licking the lobe of her ear. “Feel how badly I need you, honey? Feel what happens every time you blink or breathe or swallow? You ever run away from me again like you did at the school and I will chase you down. Do you understand me? In less than a minute, I’ll have you like this, face down, tied up and wiggling around on my dick trying to get an orgasm. Mine forever. Mine. Forever.”

She wails into my palm, her sex clenching around mine, her knees trying to dig into the floor so she can meet my thrusts. But I keep her flat beneath me and sneak a hand under her hips instead, positioning two fingers where she can grind her clit down on them. Her resulting scream makes me laugh darkly in her ear, my hips thrusting all the faster, feeling the ripples travel through her core, turning her into a hot, milking paradise for my cock. So wet and warm and tiny, I can’t stop my own climax from approaching with the speed of a bullet being fired from a gun.

When Peyton stiffens beneath me and begins to shake, crying out into my hand, I give myself permission to let go and my balls pulse, sending hot seed up my shaft in waves. I drop my hand from Peyton’s mouth and slap it down on the floor, along with my other one, my hips ramming forward quickquickquick, desperately, spurred on by my obsession with the girl beneath me. Claiming her, possessing her, making her mine. Now.

“I love you,” I gasp into her neck, pleasure and affection untying the knots inside of me one by one. “I love you, Peyton.”

I’m not disappointed when she doesn’t say it back to me. No, I’ve been given a gift. More than I ever could have expected—and I won’t be greedy. She isn’t leaving me. She still wants me, even though my dark obsession has been revealed. Over time, I will do everything in my power to make her return my feelings. Even if she can only develop a fraction of them, it’ll be leaps and bounds beyond what I ever expected to receive in my lifetime.

Picking her up off the floor, I gently untie her wrists and bundle her under the covers, my heart rapping against my ribcage. And when I climb into the bed beside her and she tucks her head under my chin, I’m the happiest man alive.

That doesn’t mean I’m letting my guard down.

Not when I can still hear her words ringing in my head.

I d-don’t know if I want to let myself be okay with this. I don’t know what that means about me. I’m scared of who I’ll become…

I band an arm around her, my body poised to chase her if she tries to escape.