This is something I have wanted to do for a long time now. After contemplating it forever, I decided, what the hell. Anyway, this will be a DRABBLE and will post daily until the unforeseen future.
This will be dark, edgy, and unlike anything, I have written before. I am hoping you enjoy it, but I am warning you now, it will touch on some sensitive issues for some readers.
Please be advised. This is a stalker, dark, dangerous fic. It May is not suitable for all readers.
Thanks in advance for reading, and please enjoy this twisted journey.
I couldn't get her out of my head. She was an addiction, one I couldn't seem to kick. A week ago, I spotted her sitting on the subway, and ever since, I trailed every move she made.
Typically, I'm not a stalker. Well, maybe I am, but no one had ever captivated me like the woman currently sliding from her seat. She was tangled in the crowd, and I only caught glimpses as she moved closer to the sliding subway door. Unwilling to let her get too far ahead of me, I stood too and moved to the door further down the subway car.
I watched her lips part through the bouncing bodies that kept obstructing my view, a flash of cherry peeking through here and there. Swallowing tightly, I licked my lips, imagining the flavor of her breath on my tongue. A slight glimpse of her teeth caught my attention, and I couldn't help but wonder if she bit while in the heat of passion.
I shrugged my shoulders, almost feeling the sharp sting in the muscle there. A middle-aged man shifted and her heart-shaped face came into full view, gifting me with the sight of her misty green eyes lined with a fine black liner. Her dark lashes fluttered as her gaze darted around the littered car, just as the wheels squealed on the tracks. Briefly, they swung in my direction, yet she failed to notice my intrigue.
As the car stopped it jostled the passengers, causing her to reach for the strap overhead. She had long trim fingers, perfectly manicured nails, not a cuticle in sight. She had to use some sort of hand cream to moisten her hands. My cock jolted with sensation at the thought of those fingers closing around my length, slipping down to cup my balls.
An involuntary shiver raced across my skin. Her attention was otherwise diverted and didn't notice as my gaze slid down toward her breasts. Just a sliver of pale white skin peeked out from the button-up. Withholding the growl, I glanced at the tips of her tits pressed against the thin silk of her top.
She might notice my inspection of her person, but her body seemed to. Her nipples puckered, begging me to stare, requesting my attention, wanting my tongue.
Fate stepped in however as the doors slid open on their tracks, and her booted foot sought the landing. Pushing my swelling cock to the side, I too hopped onto the platform, making sure to keep people in front of me.
The last thing I wanted was her noticing she was being followed. I hated having to hunt people down, and this filly jogging up the concrete steps was too mesmerizing to lose. I could watch her forever and I would, given the opportunity.
My blood leaped with excitement as her pace quickened. She must be running late for work. It was half-past nine.
Oops. The little lady was late for work. Tsk … tsk … She was such a bad girl. I would love to bend her over and deliver a punishment to her perfect little ass.
That could only happen if I revealed this desperation plaguing me. The first time I saw her, I'd tried to ignore the leap in my blood, the way my skin tightened over every inch of my body, and the awareness tingling through me. I'd tried to ignore the pull to follow, chase, capture.
It'd been to no avail, however, the instinct to pursue too hard to resist. Since then, I'd learned her route, her routines, her hangouts, and some of her friends.
I believe she had a fucking boyfriend, and I wanted to choke the bastard until I couldn't see straight. My nostrils burned with anger causing my gaze to narrow on her slender hips. It wasn't her fault she was taken, but if I had to watch that douche touch her porcelain skin one more time, I might just hem him up in the alley and shove a knife in his gut.
My stomach pitched at the idea. I wasn't a murderer, but this barbaric beast reared its ugly head every time I saw him caress her.
Shaking the image of the blonde douche out of my head, I quickened my pace as she crossed Broadway to the publishing company she worked. Now I would have to go a whole nine or ten hours before I saw her again—unless I came back at lunch.
I didn't have any meetings until one. It was distinctly possible I would return around noon. It would depend on what the day had in store. Thankfully I was the CEO of a liquidation company, meaning I bought businesses and tore them down asset by asset, selling the profitable ones and tossing the rest—meaning, I could come and go as I saw fit.
Standing near the traffic light, I watched her jog up the steps and disappear inside. My cock deflated and biting my lip to the point of pain, I turned to the street and hailed a cab.
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