Stalked by my Professor Novel

Chapter 10 I press Haven's wrists into the mattress. She squirms against the pressure, her mouth pursing, the metal bits on her collar clinking. "I wanna touch you," she says. "Let me touch you." I bite my lip. I don't know how long I can keep up this game, but the way it's fucking turning me on, I'm going to do everything to make it last. Because if she knew it was me, she'd be screaming. Just like every other time I've had her helpless. Just like she should be now. Shouldn't she? Fuck, I'm so confused. So goddamn horny, and my dick's just hanging around like it's a regular Tuesday night.

The drugs making everything feel distant, like I'm watching myself destroy her. Still feels fucking amazing. Just having her this close. Her smell in my nose, even though it's tainted by Rooke's body wash⁠- I rear back, letting her go. Holding my arm under my nose, sniffing. Pine needles snapped in two and ground in the dirt. I've smelled this before. Not on me. On her. This isn't the first time Heavenly's been at Rooke's house. The first time she's showered here. How many times has he had her here? How many times has he done what I'm about to do?

I turn to the opening beside his bedroom wall where he disappeared, and he reappears like magic, a box in his hands. He takes his seat at the foot of the bed again, lifts a finger to his lips, and then takes out a slip of black satin and tosses it onto the bed near Haven's hip. It brushes her hand, and she flinches at the touch. "What's that?" she says through an uneasy laugh, trying to feel the fabric. I snatch it away, grab her wrists, and bind them together as quickly as I can. It's a familiar motion. Muscle memory. My hands know exactly how to hurt her.

How many times have I done this to her? Chapters first released on fındnovel.net Countless. She's usually screaming at the top of her lungs by now, begging someone to save her. But the drugs have made her soft, compliant. Almost like she trusts me. So still on the bed under me. "No, wait. Please," she says quietly, almost a whisper. Her collar clinks as she shakes her head. "I don't like this." Rooke comes into view, holding his glass of bourbon behind his back, pointing with the other hand.

I follow the line drawn by his finger, then reach out to touch the intricate carving on the wooden headboard. There are three small lattices spaced in a line along the carvings. They're just big enough that I can push some of the satin through and pull it out again. It looks more than sturdy enough to hold her. Like a ring on the wall of a dungeon, like it was built expressly for this purpose. How many girls has he brought here? How many guys? I seize her bound wrists and wrench her arms up over her head, my bruised knuckles aching.

"Ow!" The satin slips through the hole, and I put my finger through the lattice to grab it, pull it. Satin whisks against oak as I yank the fabric out. "That's too tight," Haven says, flustered now, shimmying her head against the pillow like she's trying to dislodge the blindfold, her collar rattling. "Please, Bastian. I don't like this." When I glance up at Rooke, he has his glass by his lips, knuckle pressed to his mouth like he's fighting back a laugh. Enjoying watching me become the monster he somehow always knew I was.

Our eyes meet, and a surge of such intense fucking lust shoots through me I'm pretty fucking sure I'd have come in my pants if I wasn't on molly. Not for Haven. For him. For the sickening approval in his eyes as I destroy her. I drop my head, grabbing the top of the headboard to catch myself, my other hand going around Haven's throat, right over her collar. It happens so quickly, I don't even know what I'm doing until I squeeze. Haven screams, and I realize this is exactly what I've been wanting to do since the moment she came back. All my rage, my threats, the weak shit I've done until now?

Foreplay. This right here, having her helpless when I've felt helpless for years...? This is what I've been waiting for.