Chapter 4 - I LET MY STALKER F*CK ME I

**Sophia’s POV**

My fingers were already slipping between my thighs before I even turned off the lights.

I’m Sophia Vale—twenty-four, freelance romance writer, and apparently a complete pervert now. Six months ago, my boyfriend of three years left me for someone “less complicated and more fun.” Since then, I’ve been stuck in this quiet ground-floor apartment, staring at a blinking cursor every day, unable to write a single romance book with a decent sex scene because I haven’t felt truly desired in so long.

Until he started watching me.

It began three weeks ago. I noticed a dark silhouette in the alley outside my bedroom window one night while I was touching myself. Instead of screaming or closing the curtains like any normal person would, something dark and hungry woke up inside me. I left the curtains open on purpose the next night… and he was there again.

Now it’s become my dirty little ritual.

Tonight was no different. I had just finished a long, frustrating day of trying to write and failing. My body was aching with unmet need. The cursor had blinked at me for hours. Every sentence I typed felt flat and lifeless. By the time I shut my laptop, the restlessness under my skin had turned sharp.

I walked into my bedroom, heart already racing with anticipation, and deliberately left the curtains wide open. The alley outside was dark, but I knew he was there. I could feel his eyes on me the same way I had felt them the night before, and the night before that.

I stood in front of the window for a moment, letting the soft glow from my bedside lamp illuminate my body. I was wearing nothing but a thin white tank top that barely contained my full breasts and a pair of tiny black panties. My long chestnut hair fell loosely over my shoulders. I stayed there longer than I needed to, letting him look. Letting myself feel the weight of being watched.

Slowly, I climbed onto my bed, positioning myself so I was facing the window. My pulse thrummed between my legs as I leaned back against the pillows. The sheets were cool against the backs of my thighs. I spread my knees a little, then a little more, giving the dark alley a clear view.

I knew he was watching.

And God, that knowledge alone made me so wet.

I slid one hand under my tank top, cupping my breast and pinching my nipple until it hardened into a tight peak. A soft moan escaped my lips. My other hand slid lower, slipping inside my panties. My fingers found my clit already swollen and sensitive. The first slow circle made my hips shift against the mattress.

“He’s watching me right now,” I whispered to the empty room, my voice breathy. “He’s out there stroking his cock while he looks at me.”

The thought sent a fresh rush of arousal flooding through me. I circled my clit slowly at first, teasing myself the way I imagined he would tease me. My hips rolled gently as I dipped two fingers lower, feeling how slick I already was. The wetness coated my fingers easily. I pushed them in just a little, then pulled them back out to spread the slickness over my clit again.

I spread my legs wider, giving him a perfect view. My panties were pushed to the side now, exposing my glistening pussy completely. I pushed two fingers inside myself, moaning louder as I started to pump them in and out. The wet sound of it was quiet but clear in the still room. My other hand stayed on my breast, kneading, tugging at the nipple until the small sting mixed with the deeper ache between my legs.

“Fuck… can you see how wet I am?” I breathed, eyes half-closed but still staring toward the dark alley. “I’m dripping for you. I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

My fingers moved faster. The wet sounds of my arousal filled the quiet bedroom. I added a third finger, stretching myself, imagining it was his thick cock instead. The fullness made my breath hitch. My other hand kept working my breast, tugging harder now, enough to make me gasp. My hips rolled up to meet my own hand. Every time I pushed deeper, a soft, broken sound left my throat.

I was so close already. The knowledge that a stranger was watching me touch myself like a desperate slut was driving me insane. My thighs trembled as I fucked myself harder, my moans turning into needy whimpers. My free hand left my breast and slid down to rub my clit in tight, frantic circles while my fingers kept thrusting inside me. Pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in my belly. My back arched off the bed as I chased the release I desperately needed.

“Come closer,” I whispered shamelessly. “I want you to see everything.”

My clit was throbbing under my fingers. The pressure low in my stomach wound so tight it almost hurt. My legs shook. My breathing turned sharp and uneven. I was right there—right on the edge—when my phone suddenly rang on the nightstand.

The sound jolted me.

Unknown number.

My fingers froze mid-motion, my pussy clenching around nothing. My heart hammered wildly as I stared at the glowing screen. The ache between my legs pulsed, unfinished and insistent. For a second I almost ignored the call. Almost kept going.

With shaky fingers, I reached for the phone. I answered it, pressing it to my ear, my voice still breathless and trembling.

“Hello?”

A deep, husky male voice came through the line, low and dangerous, sending a cold shiver through my entire body.

“You look so fucking beautiful when you’re about to cum for me, Sophia.”

My breath caught sharply.

What? He knew my name?

And he was still watching.