His Dark Obsession

Chapter 9: Her.

"I'll be 10, baby".

I hung up the phone instantly after he said that. What the actual fuck is wrong with me? I have a stalker who's kidnapped the guy who tried to rape me and done God knows what to him, and I decide to react by inviting him round my house. Make it make sense.

I can actually. In some very fucked up sick way, I'm enjoying this. I'm scared, and nothing turns me on more than being scared. He's dangerous, and he could easily kill me if he wanted to, but I keep thinking back to last night. He got me dressed without touching me at all, not that I know of anyway, took my makeup off for me and tickled my back. A killer with a soft side just for me, how can I not ever so slightly enjoy this?

I want to know more about him, I need to know. I can tell just from his jaw that he's beautiful, and his build is massive. His accent isn't from round here, which makes him even more mysterious. A man far from his home town, stalking a girl in the dead of the night and kidnapping a man who touched her. God, I need to see a therapist.

I'm pacing around the living room as I await him, staring down my driveway for a car. I haven't been up long, I'm still in the t-shirt he helped me into and my thong. I tied my hair into a pony tail to try and look at least some what decent, but honestly why am I trying? I should literally call the police right now but here I am eagerly awaiting my stalker to arrive.

Thud.

My head shoots in the direction of the thud I heard in the kitchen. I feel my heart race in my chest as I slowly and quietly walk forward. I peak my head round the archway from the living room that leads straight into the kitchen, and I see nothing. Nothing is moved or touched.

Thud.

It comes from the front hall. I slowly creep round the corner of the archway that is opposite the front door, staring down an empty hall and at a locked front door. Surely I'm going insane, it can't be him. How would he get in? I shoot my head to the back doors of the kitchen to see they're both closed. 

Thud.

This one was louder and came from upstairs. I swallow the lump in my throat and turn to pick a big kitchen knife out of a drawer. My hand trembles as I hold it in front of me while I slowly walk through the hall to the stairs. I can't see anyone; it's scary how he creeps so well even in the light of day. Every steady footstep I make echoes in my head as the adrenaline surges. I can't believe I'm doing this right now. My head darts around when I reach the top of the stairs, my breathing quick and heavy as I cautiously walk toward my bedroom. I see the door is cracked open slightly, and my hand trembles as it reaches out in front of me to push it open the rest of the way. I stay at the door way, and I see the black rose on my night stand has been moved to the middle of the floor. I swallow once more, my eyes locked on this delicate plant. The only thing that distracts me is the gentle hot breath I feel on the top of my head. 

I freeze.

My entire body is stiff, my heart feels like it's going to fly out of my chest. The knife in my hand clunks to the ground as I lose control of my hands. I feel a small whimper of fear leave my throat, and my thighs clench together as a gentle throb grows between them. Why do my sick kinks have to do this to me?  

I feel the breath move down to my ear, the presence behind me growing stronger,

"Are you ready to fly, little dove?", he speaks. His low, timber voice makes the ache between my legs throb even more, and hearing his nick name for me spoken out loud stiffens my nipples. I am truly fucked up, but not as fucked up as him. I can feel the rock hard bulge digging into my ass, which turns me on even more and wetness starts to seep into my thong. This man is dangerous, he's easily going to become addictive. He is the drug, and I am the crack head that can't get enough.