12. Layne

Chapter twelve

Layne

W hat the fuck does everything mean?

This is one bad thing about being a virgin. I don’t know what that could mean or what to even expect. I’m kneeling for the psychopath that has been stalking me, allowing him to touch me. Remember that little conversation we had about making better life choices, I’m pretty sure this doesn’t fall in line with that. My stalker circles to where he’s now standing in front of me. “Why’d you braid my hair?” My fingers run over the braid as my gaze stays on him, even though he has the mask on. I’m captivated by the jade-green eyes that are making my panties wet.

“So I have something to grab onto. I’m going to be rough with you in so many sweet ways, Layne.”

His words are like poison and I’m the dumbass that is drinking that shit up. “I don’t want my first time to hurt,” I whisper, a single tear falling down my cheek.

He sighs deeply, running his hand through his tousled hair. “Shit, Layne. I didn’t know you were a virgin… ”

I look up at him. Anger coursing through my body. Cutting off his next word, I yell. “Oh, so fucking me when you thought I was already used would’ve been an easier task?” I stand up, but he pushes me back down to my knees.

“Can you shut up for one fucking second? I wasn’t finished.”

I roll my eyes. Stalker doesn’t like that . He crouches so we’re eye-to-eye. “Go ahead Layne, roll your eyes again. Girls that act like brats and that tease, get put on their knees with a cock shoved down their throat. Is that what you want? You want me to treat you like a little slut?”

What the hell are you doing Layne, taunting your stalker! Why are his words turning me on so much? The ache in my core is so intense. Maybe I do want him to treat me like a slut? This is not the best time to find out what kind of kinks we have.

He’s waiting for me to answer him, looking slightly annoyed. I stay silent. With a stifled laugh, he stands up and starts unbuckling his belt.

“Wait,” I panic, “no. I don’t want you to treat me like a slut.” He looks down at me with his piercing gaze. “Take your mask off,” I beg.

He groans. “Fuck, hearing you beg is so fucking sexy.” He drops to his knees, his belt still undone. “Take it off for me, Layne” I reach around his head to the buckles.

His hands come up to hold my wrists. “Know that if you do this, there’s no going back. You’ll be mine. I’ll possess you, guide you, and dominate you. In every way. And then I’ll want to touch you, hold you, kiss you, and make you feel safe. Only with me. If someone gets in the way, I will kill them.”

My hands tremble on the buckles. I process his words. Is this what you want Layne? Someone who would kill for you? I unclasp the first buckle. Two more to go. The second undone, he lets go of my wrists and holds on to the front of the mask. With the last buckle free, I drop my hands .

Slowly he brings the mask down to reveal the most gorgeous green eyes, full, kissable lips, and a jawline to die for. He pulls his jacket off and tosses it to the couch, along with the mask, then reaches out and grabs my neck with a gentle pressure that makes me whimper, pulling me into him.

His lips hover over mine, whispering into my mouth. “You are mine and only mine. You’re my girl. Understand?”

I nod. Still enamored with how handsome he is, I’ve lost my ability to speak. He smells of smoke, something woodsy like cedar, and the ocean. It’s intoxicating. My mouth lingers on his, hoping he deepens our lips touching but he pulls back and stares at me. I’m wet and my nipples are hard, begging for his touch.

“What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you my stalker or zombie face.” He licks his lips. God, he needs to stop doing that.

“Does it matter?” He says. The hand that is around my throat gives a gentle but firm squeeze.

“If I am supposed to be your girl, then yes, it does.“ I fight the urge to roll my eyes again.

Leaning forward, his lips touch my ear. “Wes. My name’s Wes.” That moment on the floor feels like it lasts forever. He pulls away from my ear and our lips collide, my body melting into his. If this is how every kiss will feel with Wes, I never want them to end. My hands weave into his hair, pulling him closer to me as his hand leaves my neck and grasps under my ass as he pulls me into his lap. With his pants still undone, I can feel his hard cock against my center and it makes moan into his mouth as his tongue explores.

“Oh,” I moan as his hands run up my back underneath my shirt.

“Off.” His voice husky and assertive.

My knees would be weak if I wasn’t already in his lap. I slide off and he stands up, leaving me on my knees .

“Take your shirt off.” I do as I am told, ripping my shirt over my head and flinging it to the side. “Fuck…” I cover myself with my arms, feeling completely exposed. “Don’t ever hide yourself from me. You’re fucking perfect.” I drop my arms, letting him take me in. He pulls his shirt over his head, his whole body is covered in tattoos and scars. Kicking off his shoes and pulling his jeans down leaving him in his black boxer briefs. He bends down and picks me up, wrapping my legs around his waist, he walks us over to my bed.

My mouth explores his neck as he stops at the edge of the bed, and he moans as I kiss the hollow of his throat. Wes pulls me back, pupils blown with insatiable hunger. “Have you just never fucked anyone?”

Well, he is in for a surprise. “I kissed a boy in the third grade, and that is the extent of my romantic experience.”

“Wait, you haven’t kissed anyone since you were like eight years old? Where the fuck have you been my whole life? How the fuck has some guy not…” his voice trails off as he lays me down on the bed. I scoot back, but he grabs me by the ankle and pulls me to the edge.

“So you’ve never had your pussy eaten then?” His eyes darken as I shake my head. The devious smile that spreads across his face has me excited and terrified all at the same time. He drops to his knees in front of me as if he is about to pray. If I wasn’t wearing my thong still, he would get an eyeful of my bare pussy. He looks over at my bedside table and grabs one of my knives from the harness.

“No,” I say remembering his words from earlier. He shushes me then glides the blade up the outside of my thigh, the cool metal making my nipples hard.

Wes pushes the blade against my hip to cut my thong, doing so the tip digs into my skin.

“Ah,” I cry out. It’s painful, but the pain feels surprisingly good. The nick is just deep enough to draw blood. A crimson trail drips down my thigh and onto my sheets. Wes’s tongue eagerly glides up the outside of my thigh and he licks up the blood and places a kiss on the cut. That should not have been so hot. His other hand pulls my thong off, tossing it to the floor. My thighs quiver at being so exposed, especially to someone who I don’t know. Someone who stalked me and attacked me.

My thighs clench together.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

Shall we begin the long list of all the things wrong with us right now, Layne?

“ Ma Petite Mort , you’re gonna to need to stop clenching.“ He purrs as his jade eyes look up at me. “Having second thoughts?”

“N-no. I just need to get out of my head.” His hands spread my thighs so he can see all of me.

“Allow me help get you out of your head.” His breath is hot on my pussy. The soft kisses he places down my thigh ignite a fire deep in my core. He switches to my other leg and his lips start the same sweet torture, a trail of sweet kisses. I tense when I feel his warm tongue slide up my entrance, finding my clit. His tongue ravages my clit with deliciously slow strokes. I feel a pressure building in my core, and it feels so fucking good. I run my fingers into his hair, holding him in place as I rock my hips, seeking release against his tongue. I give his hair a gentle tug as he dips his tongue inside me.

“Oh. My. God,” I moan, nearly breathless.

He pulls back and arches his eyebrow. “God isn’t here, Layne,” he stands, pulls his boxer brief down, and climbs on top of me, using his knee to spread my legs. “When you come, you’ll say my name. Do you understand?”

“Yes… Wes. I understand. Only your name.” We’re both panting now. Kneeling on the bed, and in between my thighs, I finally see his cock. It has to be at least eight inches, thick and coming right toward me. “Nope,” the word leaves my lips as I try to scoot away. “There’s no way that’s going to fit.” Wes pulls me back.

“It will. We will make it fit, baby.”

Wes has one hand at the base of his cock, the other wrapped around my thigh, holding me in place. “Take a breath, Layne. Make sure you breathe through it if it’s painful.” I take a breath, and as he drags the head of his cock up and down my entrance making it wet. He then he pushes just the tip into my pussy, I scream out the breath. “Layne, relax. You’re tensing up.” I take a staggered breath, and he pushes in more. A tear falls down my cheek. “Hey.” I look at him. “Shh…You are okay,” his thumb wipes away the tear. “Let me in, Ma Petite Mort. Once you let me inside you, I can make the pain go away.”

I nod, relaxing my mind and my body, and eventually it lets him in and he thrusts the rest of the way in. He inches in and out, and he goes from watching himself inside of me to looking at my face and back, mesmerized. He reaches over and grabs a pillow, placing it under my head. “You okay?” The sharp burn is gone and it starts to feel good, the pain mixed with the sensation of being filled so entirely. As I nod yes, a moan escapes my lips when he hits a spot inside me that feels like delicious pressure waiting to be released. Wes leans into me, he’s no longer on his knees, but we’re chest to chest. With my thigh in his grip, he drives into me with a little more force.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last long in this tight pussy, Layne. I’m going to need you to come for me.” The feeling I was getting when he was eating me out was back, pooling deep in my core. With every thrust, it builds. I can feel the warmth spreading up through my belly

“Harder,” I whimper, needing to feel every inch of him now. Wes buries his face in the crook of my neck, and he moans. I don’t think I have ever heard something so sexy. This insane stalker, unraveling in between my legs.

“Good girl, Layne. You’re doing such a good job taking my cock.” My lips touch his neck, I suck and bite gently. The sound that escapes his lips could become addictive.

“Oh, fuck.” He whimpers.

Jesus fucking Christ, he whimpered. Fuck. Me. I’m done. Hello, Satan it’s Layne, you can drag me down to hell now for fucking my stalker as long as I can take this man with me.

I raise my hips to grind into his thrusts. Finally the pressure peaks and I come, crying out in ecstasy as as his lips crash down onto mine, moaning into his mouth. “Wes!” The waves of intense pleasure cascade as I am met with the sensation of his cock pulsing inside of me. His warm cum spills out of me as he pulls back. He falls on the bed next to me and lets out a sigh. “What?” I ask him, wondering if it wasn’t good or something.

“I thought I would last longer. Edging is not all it’s cut out to be.”