Stockholm's Syndrome

Chapter 4

Dave had texted you the night of your birthday party, as he said he would. And over the last few days, you had texted each other every now and then. Mostly him asking what you were doing, though you were sure he somehow knew exactly what you were up to, almost at all hours of the day. Or you asked how his day was going and or if he wanted to stop by later that night. Most nights, he would stop by, either for a quick fuck but sometimes he would fuck you slowly and for hours. Learning what made you moan and what made you scream out his name louder than you had before. And he loved to make you scream; it seemed to only spur him on and fuck you harder and faster, or slower and deeper. Not that you were complaining. He always left you satiated and tired. But he did always leave. He never stayed the night. And you were too chicken shit to ask him to. Because hearing him say no would probably hurt more than him leaving after he had fucked you senseless.

Yet again, it had been a few days since you had seen Dave; he had said he would be going away for a few days, but that didn't stop you from missing him. You missed him more than you should have. You had tried not to fall for him; you really had. But it had been futile to resist. He consumed your every waking hour. You found yourself daydreaming about him on numerous occasions.

Even as you were walking down the aisles of the grocery store, you thought about what it would be like to be walking next to him, picking out items to put in the basket for you to go home together and cook a meal before devouring each other afterwards. Against your better judgment, you pulled out your phone and sent him a quick text. It couldn't hurt now, could it?

When will you be back?

A low buzzing sound sounded out from an aisle or two behind you. And for a split second, you hoped he was there at the store, but you shook your head as if to clear that silly thought out of your mind. He wasn't here; why would he be here? Your phone pinged, and you scrambled to open the text message, hoping it was from Dave.

Sooner than you think. Be patient.

A big smile spread across your lips as you read the text over and over. Your only thought was, how soon was soon? But you refrained from sending another text asking just that question and put the phone back in your purse as you walked into the next aisle.

Stopping in front of the shampoo section, you couldn't reach the higher shelf where your favorite shampoo was. It never failed to surprise you why they insisted on putting it so goddamn high up! It wasn't like you were abnormally short. You were 5 feet, 3 inches. That wasn't short. But they insisted on stocking some of your most parched items on the highest shelves. And it never ceased to annoy the living hell out of you. You were just about to give up or maybe even climb the shelf when you felt a presence behind you, but you didn't need to turn around to know who it was. You already knew exactly who was standing behind you. He moved closer until he was flushed up against your back, his cologne wrapped around you like a comforting blanket, and you leaned back onto him as his hands snaked their way around your waist. His hard cock pressed against your ass. And a smile spread across your lips just at the thought of him getting hard at the sight of your back. Sure, the short sundress you had on probably helped—probably not a dress to be going shopping in at this time of the day—but it had been another excruciatingly hot day, and even wearing only this, sweat still coated your skin. The only slight reprieve from the heat was being in the AC-controlled store.

"Did you miss me?" He asked, his voice low, and his breath fanned over my neck and left side of my face as he leaned in and planted a soft kiss just below my ear. He groaned in your ear and pushed himself harder into you. Letting you feel his hard cock pressing into you. A soft moan slipped from your lips.

"Yes," you said, already breathless and your breathing becoming labored. Just having him close to you again, you sighed a breath of relief. "What are you doing here?" You asked and turned your head slightly to look at him over your shoulder.