Stalked by my Professor Novel

Chapter 7 My fingers dig into the carpet as my body bobs back and forth, dancing to the rhythm of the roaring, crackling flames. The fire paints warm orange light over my eyelids, my lips, my cheeks, my neck. So fucking glorious. So fucking luxurious. I'm melting into the floor, into his world, becoming part of his space, his property. The air stirs, bringing me a hint of Bastian's scent. Bourbon. Rain-soaked earth. A scent that's going to haunt my dreams forever, whether this ends in pleasure or pain. God, let it be both. There's a faint clink beside me, then another. Clink.

Such an insidious sound. I should've opened my eyes, but it's already too late. Clink. Clink...clink, clink-clink-clink-clink-clink-clink The collar around my throat snaps tight, and on instinct, I grab it. I tilt my head back, gaping at Bastian, my gaze sliding to where he has the chain wrapped around his fist. "Up!" He tugs hard, the collar hitting me just below my chin, its chain digging into the flesh spun tight over my jawbone. I snatch the metal links, trying to pull back, but he's stronger, and it hurts too much to resist. The first real reminder that I'm not his guest anymore.

I'm his captive. I stand, wavering on my feet. Confusion washes over me. There's something in Bastian's eyes, this kind of desperate hunger, and that shouldn't be there. Like he's been starving for this moment. But it's not right, he can't touch me, can't do the things I see glittering in his eyes. Not with⁠- Wait. Where's Kai? I whip my head to the door, my hand sliding over my mouth. God, I have such a vivid memory of him coming through the door, covered in blood.

When I turn back to Bastian, he's watching me with a bemused smile, like my confusion is the most entertaining thing he's seen all night. "I don't like this," I whisper. "What?" He strokes the edge of the collar, then slides a finger behind it, tightening it even more. "This?" I grab his wrist. "The drugs. It's making me see things." "What things?" He starts moving his finger from side to side. "I thought." I swallow, and he pauses like he's feeling my throat move. "I thought someone was here." Bastian laughs.

"Would I do this if someone was here?" He tugs at the collar, drawing us together, his other hand cupping my tit through the soft hoodie. My body responds like it's been waiting for this moment forever. I gasp at the contact, and then arch into it, into him. "I like it when you wear my clothes," he murmurs. "Such expensive things on such an underprivileged girl." His words are an insult. But the tone of his voice is as seductive as the heat of his body. Until I realize what he's probably insinuating. My words are slurred, apologetic. "Fuck.

The dress." I blink hard, trying to surface from the pleasure pool of the drugs and his presence. "I'm so sorry. I...I lost it. It cost so much⁠-" His dark chuckle cuts me off. "Sweet girl, I have more money than I could spend in ten lifetimes." His voice is a low soothing drone. "Let me worry about things like that. You just worry about feeling good." His fingers slip under the hoodie, skimming bare skin. "And looking this fucking perfect while you do." He pulls away, flicking my hardened nipple with his finger, sending a jolt through me. A promise. A threat.

"Now be a good girl, and put this on." My eyes flicker to the thing dangling from his hand. A black, satin sleep mask. I don't know why, but the sight of it makes my skin crawl. "I don't want⁠-" "Put it on, Haven." My hand shakes as I take the mask. As I slip it over my damp hair. Bastian adjusts the straps with a pull of his fingers, and then smooths down my hair. Fuck. That one touch sends my body into overdrive. The chain rattles, goes taut. He clicks his tongue. "Come, girl." I have no choice but to follow him. Not just because of the collar...but because I want this. I want him.

I don't care how fucked up it is. Even knowing this will destroy me. Even knowing I'll never be the same after tonight. And, yeah, maybe it's the drugs in my system. But so what? My track record of good decisions is non-existent, anyway. Ask Kai. Bastian's not wearing his shirt. It smells like he just got out of the shower. I must have zoned out in front of the fire and imagined all that shit with Kai and the blood and the gun. Right? And I let Bastian lead me to his bedroom, my body already tingling with anticipation. Discover more novels at finḑnovel.net But that's when it all goes to hell.

Because getting what you want is the most dangerous thing of all.