登入I used to think I was careful. Lock the windows. Check the street before I crossed. Keep the curtains pulled at night. All the little habits that make a woman feel like she’s in control of who gets close. Then he started watching me, and I found out how much I liked the feeling of being seen when I shouldn’t be. The first time I caught him I almost called the cops. Almost. Instead I stood at the window in nothing but my skin and touched myself until my knees gave out, staring into the dark across the street like I could force him to step into the light. When I came I was thinking about his hands instead of mine. About what he might do if he ever got inside. He did get inside. More than once before I ever left the window unlocked on purpose. I could tell. My underwear drawer wasn’t how I left it. The pillow on the left side of the bed smelled different. Like skin and something sharper underneath. I pressed my face into it one night and got so wet I had to get myself off twice befor
I used to pretend I didn’t notice him. That’s the part I still lie about when I think too hard. The first weeks. The coffee on my car. The note under the wiper. The feeling of eyes on the back of my neck when I walked home in the rain. I told myself it was paranoia. City living. Too many true-crime podcasts. But my body knew before my head did. My pulse would kick up for no reason. I’d get wet walking up my own stairs and have no idea why until later, when I found the window unlocked again and the air in my bedroom just a little different. He was already inside me before he ever touched me. The night I left the latch open on purpose I almost backed out three times. Stood in the kitchen with a glass of wine shaking in my hand. Told myself I was crazy. Then I went to bed naked and waited. Heart slamming. Cunt already slick just from the possibility. When the floorboard creaked I kept my eyes shut. Let him look. Let him decide. The second his hand covered my mouth I was gone. I came
She started sleeping at my place more than hers. Not because I asked. She just showed up with a duffel bag one night, dropped it by the door, and stripped out of her clothes like she lived there. I watched her walk naked to the fridge, grab a beer, and crack it open. The light hit the bruises on her hips—finger marks I’d left two nights ago. She caught me looking and didn’t cover up. Just drank and stared back. “Your sheets smell like me now,” she said. “I checked.” I crossed the room, took the bottle out of her hand, and set it on the counter. Then I turned her around, bent her over the edge of the sink, and pushed into her from behind without any warmup. She was already wet. Always was these days. Like her body had learned to stay ready. I fucked her hard enough that the dishes in the rack rattled. She braced her hands on either side of the faucet and pushed back to meet every thrust, moaning low and steady. When I reached around and rubbed her clit she came fast, clenching tigh
She started leaving the apartment door unlocked every night. Not just for me. For the game. I’d come over after work and find her already waiting in different places. Once she was on her knees in the hallway just inside the door, blindfold on, hands behind her back with one of my belts. She didn’t say a word when I walked in. Just opened her mouth. I fucked her throat until spit ran down her chin and her mascara streaked. When I pulled out she gasped for air and said, “Harder next time,” like she was giving notes. Another night she was in the shower with the curtain open, water running cold on purpose so her nipples were tight and her skin pebbled. I stripped and got in with her. Pinned her to the tile and fucked her standing until her legs gave out. She came with her face pressed to the wet wall, moaning my name like a curse. We stopped pretending either of us had a normal life anymore. I still followed her. She still followed me. It wasn’t secret anymore. It was the point. Sh
I stayed the night. Didn’t mean to at first. Just lay there with my hand on her back, feeling her breathe, smelling the sex and sweat and the faint trace of her shampoo on the pillow. She fell asleep hard, the kind of deep that comes after getting fucked until your legs shake. I watched the rise and fall of her ribs for a long time. Counted them. Traced the freckles on her shoulder with my eyes until the sky started going gray. When she woke up she didn’t jump. Just rolled over, looked at me like she’d been expecting me to still be there, and reached down between us. Found my cock already half-hard against her thigh. Wrapped her fingers around it and stroked slow. “Morning,” she said, voice thick with sleep. “You stayed.” I didn’t answer. Just watched her hand move. She spit in her palm and kept going, tighter, twisting at the head the way that made my hips twitch. Then she climbed on top, guided me between her legs, and sank down without any more talking. She was still slick fro
I stayed until the sun came up.She slept with my hand between her legs the whole time, like she needed the proof I was still there. Every time she shifted in her sleep her cunt squeezed around my fingers and she’d make this soft little sound, half moan, half contented sigh. I didn’t sleep. Just watched the light change across her back and thought about how easy it would be to ruin her life. How easy it would be for her to ruin mine.When she finally woke she rolled over, looked at me for a long second, then climbed on top without a word. Took my cock in her hand, stroked it once, twice, then sank down on it like she’d been waiting all night for permission. She rode me slow at first, grinding her clit against my stomach, hands braced on my chest. Eyes open the whole time. Watching me the same way I’d watched her through windows.“You’re not leaving,” she said. Not a question. A fact. “You don’t get to break into my place, fuck me full, and then disappear. That’s not how this works now
*A New Collection I was sprawled across my bed in nothing but the thin silk robe I’d stolen from Mom’s closet, the fabric slipping off one shoulder as I read Tyler’s latest text for the third time. “Babe, I’m dying over here. Send me something filthy so I can stroke to it before I lose my mind.”
The hotel room door barely clicked shut before hands were all over me. Not gentle. Not careful. Hungry. Mike shoved me backward onto the nearest bed so hard my back bounced on the mattress. The lamp cast ugly yellow light across the room, but nobody cared about romance. My head was still spinni
*A New Collection: After being in a four years relationship with Jake, Emily catches him and her bestfriend hooking up. Heartbroken - Leading her to get complicated with some nasty strengers in the bar ready to split her open if she asked for it.(This is a continuation from my last book - Unheard P
Mark stood there in the near-dark, the faint glow from my nightlight catching the hard line of his jaw and the massive bulge straining the front of his gray sweatpants. He didn’t look shocked nor angry. He just looked… hungry. Like he’d been waiting for this exact moment. He stepped all the wa







