Page 41 of Framed Obsession

You know you like what I do to you. Don’t lie to yourself, baby. Just accept it.

Me

I’m only accepting that you're a creep. Now get this camera out of my room! I don’t consent to this.

The hopefulness quickly dies once I hear a door slam from the hall. My eyes widen, and I quickly type into my screen. I struggle to type the words correctly as my hands shake.

Me

I didn't mean right now!

My text gets ignored, and the panic sinks in more. I haven't seen him since I asked him to stay with me that night. I’m not even sure what to do. I crawl, trying to find something I can use to defend myself with. At the end of the day, I don’t know what his intentions truly are. What if he wanted to keep me alive so he could murder me himself? A figure stands in front of my doorway.

“Too late,” he says, taking up the entire frame. A feeling within me is relieved; it's a familiar mask with green illuminating LED lights on the left eye and mouth. I crawl backward until my back hits the wall. My hands reach around me, feeling for anything I can use. Smooth plastic touches my fingertip, and without looking, I clutch the object, holding it in front of me.

“You’re going to defend yourself with a shoe?” he asks, not impressed. I just have to be confident about it, right? Like I knew what I was grabbing. Maybe I have some unknown heel-throwing skill. He doesn’t know that… And neither do I.

“Hey, women have killed using heels. I can easily jam this into your chest. So, you better back off,” I say, holding the heel higher. Who am I kidding? I’m fucked. He says nothing, but instead walks closer. He’s tall and stocky. Even with the black hood he wears; it outlines his bulging muscles.

Uncertainty pervades the air. I just lay there, still holding the shoe as if it's going to protect me. Once he’s close enough, he slowly squats. My lungs inhale and exhale rapidly.

He latches onto my ankles and drags me toward him like I'm a rag doll. My stomach drops at the force I’m pulled by, and my hands reach around me; the black heel no longer in my grasp. I let out a scream. The carpet in my bedroom rubs against my shirt, causing it to lift upward. The friction making my body arch.

He’s on top of me in an instant, pinning my arms above my head. He waits, letting me catch my breath. I blow the tufts of hair that cling to my lashes, trying to clear my line of sight.

He grabs both of my wrists with one hand, while the other gently caresses my cheek, helping me. My instinct is to flinch at the movement. I can feel him pause momentarily before continuing.

“Are you okay?” he asks. The question taking me by surprise. My head turns to face him, and I search his eyes. His identity is still completely hidden, but he leaves the most vulnerable parts open. I search his eyes and he searches mine. The moment feeling way more intimate than it should.

I know he's checking to see if I’m okay with this unspoken want. While I’m checking for his true intentions, I get this feeling of looking into a mirror. He has beautiful dark brown eyes. Eyes that tell a similar story to someone I know. But there is no way—

My thoughts are cut off by my legs being shoved open. I let out a gasp at the sudden intrusion of his weight pressed on me. I can feel his hardness through his jeans. Warm heat stirs between us, and I inch forward. I don’t know what's wrong with me. I shouldn’t want this. But I do.

He looks down, noticing the minimal space now gone. I bite my lip. I know he wants this just as badly as I do. Probably even more. I’m not sure what I’m even wanting, but I know it's something.

God, who am I?

He glances at my bitten lip. My face warms, feeling the embarrassment of my need. The way we both aren't saying a word has me flushed and wanting even more. I can hear his heavy breaths underneath his mask, and it makes me want to pull it off. I know he wouldn't let me, and I’m okay with that at this moment.

His open hand cups my cheek and his thumb slides across my bottom lip, where I’m still biting down. I can see the feral look in his eyes. The need to consume me. And the way I want him to. The way I want him to take from me.

His hand moves lower and lower, tracing my breast over my shirt. I arch more, leaning into his touch. A little moan escapes me as he aggressively cups a breast. His large hand covering it completely.

He's staring at it intently. Like he's completely lost in lust. My wrists are freed, but what he does next makes me writhe under him in ecstasy. My breasts pop out, feeling the cold air, as he rips the buttons of my shirt apart down the middle.

I stay in place, not moving my arms from where he left them. He takes me in, eyeing my exposed skin. Our breathless cries of need are the only sounds in the room. Goosebumps prickle at his gaze, my nipples ready for his mouth.

His hands reach for my breasts, this time grabbing each with both hands. He squeezes hard, and I let out a whimper. His thumbs run over my hard peaks, and I jerk at the sensitivity.

“P–Please,” I whisper. He looks down at me and I can see something switch in his eyes. His hands lower to my waist and he tugs my pants down forcefully, taking my underwear with them to my knees. I wiggle, helping him remove them completely.

The way he brushes his hands over my legs leaves a silent promise of devotion. I feel it and he feels it too. He adjusts himself in his jeans, pulling on the tight material that's outlining his large bulge. I scoot closer to him, waiting for him to take what he wants already, because I want him just as bad. The shame will guilt me tomorrow, when my mind isn't ‌clouded with longing. My legs are spread open in invitation. What he does next has me wanting more.

Chapter 31

The Stalker

I Was Made For Lovin’ You - YUNGBLUD, Dominic Lewis