Page 52 of Framed Obsession

“Fuck baby. I could be buried in your pussy for the rest of my life.” He thrusts into me at every word. My vision continues to prickle. Parker comes in and out of focus. I should care that I’m being fucked senseless in front of of him, but it feels too damn good for me to be bothered by it.

Axel reaches an arm around, rubbing my clit, while he simultaneously pounds into me. The extra sensitivity pushes me to the edge. I moan loudly, feeling my climax just a thrust away.

“Come for me, Little Flower. Come on your client’s cock. Come for your late-night masked stalker,” he grits, keeping pace. My body freezes. The feeling of pure euphoria washing over me. He groans at the strangle of his thickness inside me, my legs trembling beneath me.

“Oh, god,” I scream as I feel every sensation I never knew I could feel.

“Such a good fucking girl,” he praises and I swear I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. He rams into me a few more times before spilling into me. The moans that escape him leave a low husky growl that bounces off the walls in an echo.

He releases the death grip on my hair, and I slouch over. Oxygen attacks my lungs, hard for me to keep a steady breath. I feel him pull out. I look over my shoulder at him. A mix of sweat, tattoos, and disheveled hair makes him look dangerously delicious. I never want to forget the sight of him like this.

He meets my exhausted gaze. I lift a hand to my eye, closing the other, and make a little camera motion, clicking the imaginary button. He laughs. His perfect toothy smile shines bright in the low light, forcing it makes me smile.

I watch as he disappears, squatting behind me. My brows furrow as I’m still bent over. All the sudden I feel his finger entering me once more, pushing his release back into me. I don’t know why, but the gesture makes me blush. I see him pop back up, giving me a devilish smile, and he says,

“Mine.”

Chapter 37

The Stalker

It’s Always Been You - Christian Grey

The moment I pushed my length inside, I knew this girl was made for me. So fucking perfect, and so fucking mine. Her angelic moans will be on replay forever in my mind. I’ll make a special compartment just for them.

I push my come back inside her, refusing to let any remnants hit the floor. When my white liquid disappears, I’m satisfied. I pop back up, taking in the fair beauty in front of me. A fair, tainted, beauty. A small, shy smile paints her face.

“Mine,” I state. She continues to stay slumped on the freezer chest while I grab our clothes off the floor. She shifts on her feet, and her knees buckle. I grab her before she falls and sit her back on the white chest.

She lets me slip her underwear and pants back on. Her arms cross over her torso, hugging her chest, and giving her breasts some coverage. I look at the torn shirt lying behind her and grab mine intact one instead.

“Lift your arms,” I say, bringing it over her, watching as the fabric slowly falls over. I reach for my shoes and pants, now putting them on. I run a hand through my damp hair, moving any fallen strands off my face.

She looks amazing in my clothes. The shirt is definitely three sizes too big, making her look like she's in a dress. I return the camera gesture, making a fake click in front of the right eye. And she chuckles.

“Ready to finish this?” I ask her, reminding us both of the reality we had put ourselves in. I hold my hand out and she takes it, assisting her off the cold box. She walks slowly by my side over to the chair. Parker is barely coherent, but coherent enough to have heard Dahlia screaming my name. If he hadn't, I’d have to make sure we did it again.

I remove the tape from his face. Loud breaths emit from his raw orifice, but he doesn't say a word. I tug on his hair and his neck cranks back. He blinks, barely noticing our presence. I point to the knife that's still lodged in his shoulder.

“Remove it and get ready to stab here,” I tell my Little Flower as I move my finger over his heart. I watch as her delicate hand wraps around the handle, while the other lays flat against his chest. She pushes against him and yanks the blade out.

Red crimson spurts, barely missing her. Screams of agony come from the soon to be dead man. The adrenaline now making him more awake. Good. Fucker has to be coherent for this. I want Dahlia's face to be the last one he sees.

“Beg,” I demand as I slap his face.

“P–Please. I’m sorry,” He says with eyes locked on mine. I clench my jaw and turn his head toward my girl.

“I said, not to me. You beg her,” I grit, forcing his head all the way to the left. My Little Flower stands there, not saying a word, just staring.

“P–Please, Dahlia. I was just messing around. You know this is wrong,” He pleads. She looks at me for reassurance.

“You got this, baby,” I encourage. Parker tries fighting one more time. Lunging around his seat, screaming, and trying to get free from my grasp. Dahlia hovers the blade over him. The metal shakes in her small hands.

“No! No, you can't do–” His words silenced as the blade enters his chest.

“Fuck you. You did this, not me,” My Little Flower says before shoving the full length in. I watch her, watch him. As the pathetic excuse of a life drains from his eyes. She is angry, she is scared, she is vengeful, and I fucking love it.

The room goes eerily quiet. No sounds of struggling left. I let go of the lifeless body and hold on to her trembling one instead. She inhales and exhales deeply. A sliver of fear lingers within me. Clinging on like an unwanted tumor in hopes she doesn’t regret this.