SNOWED IN WITH THE STALKER

MIA KINGSLEY

A DARK ROMANCE SHORT STORY

CONTENTS

Snowed in with the Stalker

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

About the Author

SNOWED IN WITH THE STALKER

Since the break-in, I don't feel safe in my house. I constantly imagine that I sense a male scent, a breath of air, or I wake up at night and don't know why.

I'm almost relieved when the weather forecast announces large amounts of snow for Christmas. When I get snowed in, I can finally relax because no one will be able to come into my house.

Or at least that's what I think—until I realize that the danger has been lurking inside the house for a long time...

PROLOGUE

ASH

Just one more page, I thought wearily and snuggled deeper under the covers—knowing full well I was lying to myself. On my e-reader, I could scroll continuously and there were no pages to turn. Tomorrow I would be dead tired, but I absolutely needed to know who had killed the Viscount.

Although I was alone, I was holding my hand over my mouth to cover my yawn when suddenly the light of my bedside lamp went out. A moment later, I heard the refrigerator in the kitchen beeping softly, and it was immediately clear to me that the power must have gone out completely.

I rolled my eyes because my brother had assured me that there was nothing wrong with the wiring in this old house.

As I swung my legs out of bed and fumbled for my phone on the nightstand to use as a flashlight, I thought I heard a creak in my walk-in closet.

I'd only recently moved in here and hadn't yet become used to the noises that the old house made. It was also the first time I'd lived completely alone, with neither roommates nor boyfriends in the immediate vicinity.

My feet touched the cold floor, and I inhaled sharply. By the glow of my cell phone, I moved toward the door, searching on the way for my socks, which I had thrown somewhere over here when I'd gone to bed.

There was a clatter downstairs, and my heart began to race. I hadn't managed to unpack the new pot set that had been delivered today, so it was sitting in the kitchen not far from the door that led out back to the garden.

A shiver ran down my spine as I realized that the power probably hadn't gone out but had been turned off by a burglar—a burglar who had already entered the house.

I remained on the threshold of the room, undecided about what to do next. Since I had my cell phone in my hand, it would be a good idea to call the police. But I couldn't escape from up here, and the burglar might be able to hear me talking. As long as he was in the kitchen, I should take my chances and run downstairs, yank open the front door, and run outside. On the street, I would be highly visible to the neighbors and could call the police from there.

I thought for a moment and decided on this option. Staying in the house with the burglar didn't seem like a good idea.

I tiptoed along—my cold feet forgotten. The blood rushed so loudly in my ears that I hardly noticed any other sound. With my cell phone pressed to my chest, I quietly descended the stairs.

There was a rustling somewhere, and I thought I felt a breath of air behind me. I assumed the paranoia had fully taken hold of me because the burglar had clearly been downstairs and not with me in the bedroom.

I had just reached the front door when a man's voice asked behind me: "Well, who do we have here? I didn't know the house had been sold. You should've changed the locks, girl."

I reached for the door anyway, but my fingers slipped off the doorknob as I was grabbed from behind. With a gasp, I went to the floor and wanted to scream for help, but the man squatted on me with all his weight and covered my mouth from behind. He was applying so much pressure that it felt like he was trying to crush my lips. "Be good," he murmured before abruptly letting go of me and turning me around.

I shone the flashlight in his face and made another attempt to free myself. But he sat on me like a block of cement, watching my desperate struggle, only squinting his eyelids now and then when the light blinded him.

With each passing second, my strength diminished, and his nasty smile widened.

I didn't dare think about what I was about to face when I saw a shadow behind the man in the glow of the cell phone. In the next second, the burglar's weight was lifted from me, and I pulled myself up with relief. Before I could see who had rushed to my rescue, however, I was jerked backward unsteadily. The phone fell out of my hand, and as I crouched down to feel for it on the floor, I felt a sharp sting on the back of my neck.

I slumped forward, but there were strong, warm hands holding me and preventing me from hitting the ground face first. Then I lost consciousness.

* * *

I shivered despite the blanket and squinted my eyes because I didn't want to get up yet. It wasn't until my brain slowly kicked into gear that I remembered what had happened last night. Abruptly I sat up in bed—so quickly that I felt dizzy.

My first glance was at my nightstand, but in the pre-dawn light, I couldn't see my phone properly, so I turned on the light. The lamp flickered on, and I remembered that the power had gone out yesterday or had been switched off by the burglar. However, it was clearly back now. Was it possible that I'd just had an incredibly vivid dream?

I fumbled for my phone and found it intact. But that didn't mean anything because it hadn't fallen very far.

I wiped my face with both hands to shake off the dazed feeling.

Quite shaken up from the whole thing, I got out of bed and went downstairs into the hall. Everything looked the same. There was no sign of a struggle. I went into the kitchen— the back door was locked.

After briefly returning to the hallway to slip on my lined boots, I opened the door into the garden and stepped outside. I was cold in my pajamas, and my breath condensed right in front of my mouth, but the nagging feeling of curiosity wouldn't let me rest. There was a knot in the pit of my stomach.

I was pretty sure I hadn't imagined the events of last night. But if I hadn't imagined them, someone must have removed the traces.

Unfortunately, so much new snow had fallen overnight that I couldn't see if anyone had walked to my fuse box. I opened it and immediately noticed that one of the cables looked much newer than the others.

The back of my neck prickled, and I wheeled around. But there was no one there.

I was feeling downright sick by now. My hand was shaking as I closed the fuse box. I hurried back into the house and triple-checked that I'd locked the door before turning on the coffee maker. The whole thing made no sense.

To distract myself from the silence in my kitchen, which suddenly seemed stifling, I turned on the small television Chuck had forced on me and searched for the local channel.

The current show had just ended, and the news was starting. Coffee was just pouring into my mug when the news anchor announced that the body of an unknown man had been found in a park not far from here.

When they showed the picture of the man who'd been found, the mug of coffee slipped out of my hand and shattered on the white kitchen tiles. The dead man was clearly the man who had attacked me in my hallway last night.

I was halfway to the phone to call the police when I paused, wondering what I was even supposed to tell them. That I wasn't sure what had happened last night? That someone had broken in but suddenly let go of me after I saw a shadow? That the power line had been cut and then repaired? That I couldn't remember anything else? Not even how I had gotten back into my bed?

I would sound completely out of my mind or like someone who was inventing tall tales just to get attention.

As I stared into the puddle of coffee on my floor, I tried to think rationally about it.

Someone had killed the burglar, and I had seen a shadow—so it stood to reason that the killer and the shadow were the same person. That, in turn, meant that the killer must have already been in my house when the burglar had come.

I felt sick, and my stomach rebelled. I barely managed to get to the bathroom, where I threw up and retched until there was nothing left.

As soon as I made it up off the floor, I'd head to the hardware store and buy deadbolts for all the doors. And order an alarm system. Maybe I'd even buy a gun.

My breathing slowed down, but I still felt far from calm.

CHAPTER 1

ASH

With the shopping bag in my arms, I turned around at the street corner because I was sure the guy in the Santa costume had been smiling at me a little too long.

The man had long since begun ringing his big bell again and waving to a kid across the street, and I realized how paranoid I'd been acting since the break-in three weeks ago.

I still didn't really know what had actually happened, and now saw danger lurking everywhere. With a sigh, I walked on, blowing upwards to get rid of the thick snowflakes in my bangs. Such large amounts of snow had been forecast for Christmas that a severe weather warning had been issued. Before the break-in, the thought would probably have worried me, but now I had simply stocked up on candles and food and was looking forward to a few quiet days.

If it snowed so hard that no one dared venture outdoors, I wouldn't have to worry about any uninvited visitors over Christmas.

And it was indeed snowing hard. I could barely see my hand in front of my eyes and kept my head down as I hurried home with my groceries. At the last second, I had decided to stock up on enough chocolate and ice cream to feed a large family for several months.

Although our parents had been dead for quite a few years, this year would be my first Christmas completely without family because Chuck was stationed overseas. I tried not to think about it as tears began to well in my eyes.

While fighting my emotions, I wasn't paying close attention to where I was walking and bumped into someone.

Strong hands gripped my shoulders and steadied me with gentle pressure. My pulse skyrocketed until I recognized my neighbor Norman from across the street. He had always been nice and friendly, if a little distant.

"Careful, Ash," he said in his dark voice.

"You'll have to excuse me. It's hard to see where I'm going because of all the snow." I offered a tentative smile because he had let go of me right away and taken a step back.

Norman Conley was the opposite of pushy, and that made me feel safe. I imagined I could still feel his firm grip, which was odd because I hadn't expected so much strength behind his wiry stature. He reminded me a little of Tom Hiddleston, except he wasn't quite as tall. The top of my head reached the tip of his nose.

"Do you want me to help you carry that?" he offered.

My bag didn't weigh much, but I appreciated his courtesy and willingly gave him the groceries.

He didn't take a single glance at the bag but eyed the street before signaling with a nod that I could cross unimpeded. Since he was carrying my purchase, I could already search in my handbag for the key.

I felt his firm grip on my elbow as he wordlessly directed me around a puddle of snow in the middle of the road.

"Do you have plans for the holidays?" I asked. "I don't suppose there are any lectures scheduled?"

I knew that he was a professor of mathematics, but that was the extent of my knowledge about him.

"No. My family is originally from Alaska, but as you can probably imagine, the weather there is even worse than it is here. I'd probably get stranded somewhere if I tried to travel there now. How about you?"

Suddenly I felt hot under my winter coat. I hadn't considered that he might return the question, and immediately my paranoia rose up. I didn't want to tell him that I would be spending the holidays alone in my house—not after the break-in.

"My brother should be here soon. We always spend the holidays together." A dull tug went through my stomach as I thought of Chuck, missing him.

"That sounds nice. Say hello to him for me." Just a few yards away from the wide step that led into my house, Norman stopped and held the bag out to me. He really was that polite and didn't even try to come into the house or invite himself in for coffee.

"Thanks for carrying my shopping."

"Anytime, Ash. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Norman."

I watched him walk away before turning and unlocking the front door.

CHAPTER 2

NORMAN

It was pure irony that in high school, and for quite a few years after, I had still felt inadequate and unmanly because I tended to be slender to wiry in build. I had assumed that all women liked guys who looked like Jason Momoa or Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson.

Yet The Rock could never have hidden in Ash's closet. Behind the suitcases and boxes she still hadn't cleared out after her move was a narrow alcove that wasn't lit even when the lights in her bedroom were on and the closet doors were open.

I didn't know how many hours I'd spent in Ash's closet, watching her breathless, wondering, entranced.

Ash was... perfect.

When she lay on her bed, as she was now, bathed only in a narrow strip of moonlight, she seemed even more precious and fragile. I could never hurt her. I just wanted to admire her.

And maybe one day own her. But that still was a long way off.

In my wild moments, I dreamed of just stepping out of the shadows and revealing myself to her, but that would probably ruin everything. Until I found a way to approach her properly, I would quietly watch over her here, as I had since I first noticed her.

When she had leaped lightly from the passenger seat of the moving van, my world had stopped. I could still clearly see her sweeping her long red hair back and smiling gratefully at her brother. At first, I'd assumed the guy had to be her lover until Ash had fully furnished the house and put up the pictures from her childhood. The names and years were written on the backs, so I knew it was her brother Charles, called Chuck, who visited her from time to time. Charles was a soldier and currently overseas, so I took my job of looking after Ash even more seriously.

I would watch over her and protect her—no matter how much everything in me screamed to go to her, to free her from her red pajamas with the white reindeer and push her legs apart so I could finally taste her pussy.

Desire ran through my veins like poison, but I forced myself to breathe through it as quietly as I could and get a grip on my desire.

Although I was sure I could bring Ash to orgasm within moments because I'd watched her do it to herself so many times, I also knew I'd never be able to force myself on her. My beloved didn't deserve that.

I'd rather kill than bother her.

I had already killed to protect her.

And I didn't have the slightest hesitation about doing it again.

CHAPTER 3

ASH

I opened my wardrobe and stiffened involuntarily because I had the impression of sensing a male scent again.

I could've sworn it smelled a male-scented cologne with hints of vetiver, patchouli, and amber. But that was nonsense, of course. How could a man be in my wardrobe?

Snowflakes were dancing outside the window, and since locking the door behind me after shopping yesterday, I'd been alone in the house and hadn't spoken to anyone. Tomorrow was Christmas, and I was determined not to let it spoil my mood.

My battle plan was perfect—the last tray of Christmas cookies was in the oven, and I had spent the morning creating the perfect Christmas playlist that I would listen to while bathing, thanks to my Bluetooth speaker. The gingerbread bath bomb was already lying next to the tub. After that, a Christmas movie marathon awaited me. I'd even bought new pajamas and indulgently wrapped them in wrapping paper just so I could unwrap them in the morning. I would bake cinnamon buns for breakfast and then watch more Christmas movies. Maybe Chuck would have a chance to call me tomorrow so I could wish him a Merry Christmas.

I got out my reindeer pajamas and put them on the bed along with my thick socks as the timer rang because the cookies needed to come out of the oven.

My plan seemed to be working because as I placed the hot tray on the rack to cool, I caught myself humming a Christmas song. I put away the oven mitts and smiled contentedly.

I went upstairs and turned on the faucet in the bathroom. The water splashed into the tub, and I put the bath bomb into the water. Immediately the water turned red and smelled like gingerbread.

I turned around and winced briefly because I'd imagined that I had seen a shadow scurrying past the door. But that was nonsense. I was alone.

With a shake of my head, I walked into the bedroom and undressed. In the cool air, I shivered before reaching for my phone and Bluetooth speaker.

I placed the speaker on the edge of the sink and started the playlist. As the Christmas sounds filled the room, I cautiously put my hand in the bathwater to check the temperature.

It was perfect, and I let myself sink contentedly into the tub. For a few minutes, I just enjoyed the bath with all my senses—the scent of the bath bomb, the warmth on my skin, and the soft music. A sigh escaped my lips.

Then I felt a breath of air on the side of my neck and was startled. Hastily, I straightened up. The water sloshed up, but fortunately not over the edge of the tub, as I stared into the dark hallway.

Of course, there was no one there.

Wondering when my paranoia would finally go away, I slowly lowered myself back into the water.

CHAPTER 4

NORMAN

My fingers itched to reach out and brush Ash's hair back so I could see her face better.

After watching Christmas movies until almost two in the morning, she had finally gone to bed and fallen asleep relatively quickly, which had been my cue to come out of hiding.

I had already taken an unnecessary risk today when I'd watched her bathing. She'd sat up completely unexpectedly and had almost seen me. At the last second, I had pressed myself into the shadow in the hallway.

But the risk had been worth it—the image of Ash lolling like a naked nymph in the red bathwater was one I would not soon forget. It had taken all my self-control not to take out my cock and rub myself while watching her.

That's why there was nothing left of my self-control now. Slowly, I stretched out my fingers to very gently stroke her hair out of her face—nothing more.

It didn't matter that the top button of her pajamas had come undone, exposing the tops of her full breasts. I wouldn't run my fingertips over her skin.

We were separated by maybe ten inches when Ash's eyes snapped open without warning. She blinked once before the realization that she wasn't alone hit her with full force. Her eyes widened, and she opened her mouth.

I turned on my heel and ran downstairs. My footsteps thumped loudly over the stairs—no comparison to the way I normally moved silently through the house.

I sprinted into the kitchen and went to yank open the door, but it was locked, and the new deadbolt had been set as well. I lost precious seconds and heard Ash already behind me when I finally managed to open the door.

"Norman!" Ash called from behind me.

I wanted to escape, but I couldn't. The snow behind the door reached up to my chest.

She grabbed my arm and tried to turn me around. I stood rooted to the spot, feeling my face burn with humiliation. She was never supposed to catch me.

"Norman..." Her voice trembled. "Norman, what are you doing here?"

Slowly, I closed the door, for I would not be able to leave the house so easily.

It hurt that Ash flinched away from me when I finally turned to her. "I'm sorry."

She crossed her arms defensively, a suspicious expression on her face. "What are you sorry for? For breaking in here?"

My response was a mix between a shrug and a nod.

She frowned and leaned toward me, sniffing the air. "So I haven't gone crazy. I smelled your cologne... in my closet." Realization tugged at her face. "You were in my closet?"

I avoided her gaze and stared at the floor. "If I could, I would go. But the snow..." My voice trailed off.

"Answer my question, Norman! Have you been in my closet?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

My silence was answer enough.

Ash ran both hands through her hair, shaking her head. "I don't believe it. I... I... I don't even know what to say."

"I'm sorry," I muttered.

"Are you really?"

Again, I preferred not to give an answer because, at least that way, I wasn't lying to Ash. I was not a good liar.

She glanced at the phone sitting on the kitchen counter. "I should call the police."

My gaze was fixed firmly on the floor.

Ash sighed. "But they probably won't make it through the snow." She began pacing up and down the kitchen. "Talk to me, Norman. Why were you in my closet? Were you watching me?"

I nodded.

"Are you planning to-" She broke off, swallowing hard. "Were you going to rape me tonight?"

"No, I could never do that." Horrified, I stared at her. "I was just... looking out for you."

"Looking out for me? Because of the break-in? How do you know about that?"

I eyed her pretty face, not knowing what to say.

Realization reflected in her eyes. "You were here, weren't you? You were the shadow I saw. And you pulled the burglar off me, right?"

"Yes."

She swallowed hard. "Then you..."

Ash didn't have to finish the question because I nodded. "He was going to hurt you," I groaned, upset.

"But you were here protecting me. How long have you been watching me?"

"A long time."

Ash's eyes narrowed. "How long?"

"Since you moved in here. The kitchen door was open, and there were four keys on the sideboard. I couldn't resist because I've never seen a woman as seductive as you, Ash."

"You have a key to the house? Shit, I didn't even notice that. So you're coming in and out all the time?"

I nodded.

"You've always been here?"

"When I didn't have to work," I confessed.

Again, she ran her hands through her hair. "I... I can't process this right now. Everything inside of me is screaming to panic, but you helped me when that guy broke in here, and if it wasn't for you, I'm sure it would have ended badly. Tell me what to do, Norman. What am I supposed to do with you?"

Her helpless tone was like a sharp knife digging into my guts. I had never wanted to scare her.

"I'm sorry. You were never meant to notice me. I didn't mean to hurt you, Ash. I couldn't. I really couldn't."

"You've really been watching me from my closet for weeks now? Every night?"

"Yes."

"So you saw it all? When I was reading? When I couldn't fall asleep and spent the night tossing and turning? No matter what I did, you watched?"

The implied question was clear. Ash wanted to know if I had been watching her with the vibrator that was in the very back of the top drawer of her nightstand.

"Everything. I've seen it all."

Her face turned fiery red. "And yet you stayed in the closet instead of jumping me?"

"It took a lot of self-control on my part," I confessed because I didn’t want her to think I wasn't attracted to her.

With a pained sound, Ash turned away. "I don't know what to do. I just don't. What you did is wrong on so many levels—I just can't get over it. On the other hand..." She broke off and shook her head. "I'm just an idiot."

"No, you're not," I assured her. "It was very smart of you to get deadbolts after the break-in."

"The deadbolts didn't do much to keep the danger out but instead locked it in here with me. And now I'm snowed in with... with my what? My stalker?"

I winced at the word. "Protector?"

"Did you really kill that man?" Her voice had become noticeably quieter.

I clenched my fists. "He was going to have his way with you. I have no regrets."

Ash bit her lower lip, triggering a demanding tug in my testicles. "You're crazy, you know that?"

I shrugged my shoulders.

"But I'm probably crazy, too." She smiled shyly and held out her hand to me. "Come with me."

My heart beat faster. "Where to?"

"I think you know where."

CHAPTER 5

ASH

A thrilling shiver ran down my spine as Norman intertwined his fingers with mine. I must have completely lost my mind because I was supposed to be scared of him. He had been watching me in my own house, hiding in my closet. He knew what I looked like naked and had watched while I pleasured myself.

I probably should have at least called the police, but instead, I led him down the hall toward the stairs.

As much as the invasion of my privacy bothered me—I remembered all too clearly how scared I had been of the burglar and what relief I had felt when his weight had suddenly vanished from me.

Norman had protected me and hadn't asked for anything in return. Instead of gloating over what he had done, he had continued to look out for me. Even when he had carried my groceries across the street, not a word had passed his lips. Like my guardian angel, he had quietly watched over me.

"Ash, what are you up to?" His voice sounded preoccupied as I pulled him up the stairs after me.

"Showing my appreciation."

Norman stopped suddenly, forcing me to stop as well. "No." He shook his head. "I can't. Absolutely not. Not like that."

I turned and put my hands on his shoulders since I was two steps above him and couldn't resist. "You don't want me?"

Tormented, he closed his eyes. "Of course I want you. More than anything. But not because you feel obligated."

"I don't feel obligated. I find you attractive, and have been attracted to you since before I knew you killed for me."

His green eyes widened. "You make me sound worse than I am."

My gaze fell to his sensuously curved lips, and I suspected that if I didn't get my way, we'd be wasting our time with useless discussions now.

I didn't hesitate, bent down, and kissed him.

For a moment, Norman stiffened, obviously not knowing how to react. But he quickly overcame his shyness and grabbed my waist, pulling me against him.

His tongue pushed between my lips, and I willingly opened my mouth for him. Norman spread his fingers along my back as if he wanted to touch as much of me as possible.

I surrendered to the play of his tongue until he broke away from me and eyed me hungrily.

"If we're going to do this," he said in a gruff voice, "we have to do it my way, or I'll lose my temper."

"What's your way?" My heart beat faster.

Norman's smile grew more sensual by the second, until suddenly, my world tilted off its hinges. I cried out in horror because he threw me over his shoulder without warning and hurried up the stairs with quick steps.

Panicked, I clawed at his shoulders while secretly impressed by how strong and determined he was.

Right in front of my bed, he put me down again. I wanted to ask what exactly he was up to, but the question was unnecessary because he began to unbutton my pajama top. Almost gruffly, he pulled the trousers off my legs and pushed me backward until I sank onto the bed.

My pulse skyrocketed as Norman walked over to my closet and immediately returned with a selection of my scarves.

I opened my mouth, but he put his finger to my lips and shook his head emphatically.

Norman blindfolded me with one of the scarves and then stroked my cheek. "You don't have to be afraid of me. I would never hurt you."

"Then what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to give you what you need. I've had months to learn what you like."

His words of promise sent a shiver down my spine that grew more intense as Norman's hands began to explore my body. He pulled me up on the mattress and raised my arms above my head. He used another scarf to bind my wrists to the bed frame.

I listened intently to guess what he was up to now, but he moved almost silently, and I winced when I felt his hand on my left ankle without warning.

"Relax, Ash," he murmured, tying my legs to the bed as well—spread wide, so he had easy access.

"That's easier said than done." My breathing sped up considerably as the mattress sagged between my legs.

"I adore you, Ash, and would never harm you." With his fingertips, he stroked upward over my thigh, caressed my stomach, and continued up until he touched the tender skin between my breasts.

Oddly enough, his serious tone made me believe him, and I actually relaxed a little.

I felt him close to my face before he pressed his lips to mine. The kiss was hungry and passionate, fueling my arousal. I lifted my face to his, but the moment was quickly over, and Norman pulled away again.

Apparently deciding to explore my body more closely, he caressed me with delicate, feather-light touches. His fingers stroked over the insides of my thighs, over my hips, the soles of my feet, along my arms, my shoulders, and my neck—only avoiding my breasts and my pussy.

I never knew where he would touch me next, and since he moved completely silently, I flinched more than once—in surprise, not in fear.

When he broke contact with my skin, I involuntarily pushed towards him, practically offering myself to him.

A whimper rose in my throat as his fingers stroked my breasts. He devoted himself to my right nipple first, circling the hard tip almost reverently. As he circled the left, I moaned softly. I wanted more. So much more!

Norman withdrew his hand, and again I had to wait far too long before he decided to continue. Light as a feather, his fingers danced over my pussy. Up and down, up and down, up and down, until I thought I was about to lose my mind.

"Please," I pleaded. My nerve endings were on fire, and he hadn't paid any attention to my clit at all yet. I didn't know how I was going to survive whatever else he had planned for me.

Norman didn't respond to my begging but turned his attention to my nipples again, rolling them between his long fingers.

It wasn't long before I lost control. "Oh please, Norman, please fuck me!"

His breath brushed across my neck before he pressed a fleeting kiss to my lips. "Not yet, Ash. Be patient."

Frustrated, I tugged at the restraints but stopped abruptly when Norman opened my nightstand drawer. The sound was impossible to miss.

I swallowed hard and listened for clues. When a low whirring sounded, I bit my lower lip.

Norman had clearly taken my vibrator and turned it on. My pussy contracted in anticipation.

Of course, he made me wait, and my whole body hummed with tension. The seconds seemed to pass slower and slower until the vibrating toy brushed across my clit. The touch was firm enough to focus my entire mind on the little bundle of nerves between my legs but not nearly firm enough to bring me to orgasm. The tip of the vibrator slid between my labia and circled there, never penetrating.

I moved restlessly, trying to accommodate the toy, but every time I managed to increase the pressure, Norman pulled the vibrator away again.

First, he circled around my clit, and then dipped between my labia once more. I was so helplessly aroused that the wetness dripped out of me and ran over my anus.

Frustrated, I pressed my lips together to keep from begging again as Norman pressed the vibrator firmly against my clit without warning. Pleasure crashed over me like a tidal wave, and I was on the verge of climax. He was so close. I felt the promising tingle and...

And then there was nothing. I had already opened my mouth for a throaty moan when Norman took the toy away.

"No," I sobbed.

He didn't respond.

For what felt like an eternity, nothing happened, and the excitement slowly ebbed. Breathing heavily, I lay on the bed and wondered when the ordeal would end.

As the mattress sagged between my thighs, I thought nothing of it, convinced that the ordeal would only continue.

The touch of his tongue made me moan. He licked over my clit and kissed my pussy, sliding his tongue inside me before focusing on the sensitive bundle of nerves and sucking it between his lips.

Immediately, I was catapulted back into near orgasm and gasped excitedly. Unfortunately, Norman could read my body far too well. He licked, sucked, and then stopped. Over and over and over again. No matter how much I begged and pleaded, he wouldn't let go of me.

The vibrator returned and slid into me, humming inside me on the lowest setting while Norman gently sucked on my clit. Agonizingly slowly, Norman moved the vibrator back and forth.

"Oh please, please, please." My toes curled as I danced dangerously close to the edge. This time, I would cum. I could feel it. I was so close. So damn close.

I barely recognized my own sobs as Norman stopped again. He pulled the vibrator out of me and stopped licking me in that equally horrible and wonderful way.

My whimper as Norman touched my labia sounded downright pathetic.

But it was replaced by a scream as my tormentor sank all the way inside me with one hard thrust. His big cock filled me to the last millimeter.

He moved slowly, with steady strokes, caressing my cheek. "You're so beautiful, Ash, so beautiful."

"I... please... oh... please..." My stammering made no sense because I had long since lost my mind.

Norman laughed softly, and his hot breath brushed my face as he slid his hand under my butt. He lifted my pelvis so he could fuck me with even harder and deeper thrusts.

"Fuck, Ash," he panted close to my ear. "You feel incredible. So fucking good."

His deft fingers found my overstimulated clit, and under the scarf, I squeezed my eyes shut.

"Cum for me," he demanded. "Cum with my cock inside you, Ash!"

I exploded in the same second. My whole body tensed. I quivered and trembled under Norman, who gave up all restraint.

He growled against my ear, picked up the pace, and fucked me like crazy. My orgasm lasted a long time, pleasure pulsing through my veins, and I whispered Norman's name over and over and over.

His strong fingers dug into my skin as he came with a groan and his big cock twitched inside me.

He paused and laughed softly, relief evident in his voice. "That was so much better than I imagined." With careful movements, he pulled the scarf from my eyes and stroked my hair back. "Is everything alright with you?"

I nodded wordlessly, completely overwhelmed.

"Good." He gave me a kiss on the lips.

"Aren't you going to untie me?" I asked after a while, when I trusted my voice again.

"No. I'm not done with you yet, Ash."

"I can't take any more. I really can't."

Norman stroked my throat with his fingertips. "I've watched you long enough to know how insatiable you are. You can and you will."

I shivered under the look from his green eyes. "Okay."

"That wasn't a question." He lay on his side and propped his head in his hand as he circled my left nipple with the index finger of his other hand. "I've been waiting for months to have you all to myself. You'll be lucky if I even let you get up before New Year's Eve."

"And when do I get to touch you?" Helplessly I clenched my fists and tugged at the restraints, which of course, still didn't give.

"In four or five orgasms." He winked at me. "We've got a long way to go."

CHAPTER 6

NORMAN

As I was putting Ash's present under the Christmas tree, I heard her footsteps behind me.

"I know we're snowed in, but still, for a second I was afraid you'd disappeared." She leaned barefoot against the doorframe and crossed her arms. Her hair was rumpled in a wonderful way that reminded me of how we'd spent the night.

"I would never just leave you alone."

Her smile deepened. "It would be very cruel of you to lie to me, by the way."

"I'm not lying. " I walked over to her, put my hands on her cheeks, and kissed her. "For weeks, I've been racking my brain on how to tell you the truth."

Ash laughed softly. "I'm glad the cat's out of the bag now. Or the stalker out of the closet. Hey, is that present for me?"

Blood rushed to my cheeks. "Hmm."

"What is it? Can I unwrap it?"

My face must have been burning red by now because I realized I hadn't thought my plan through. I had wanted to leave the gift anonymously on her doorstep—if I could actually bring myself to do it.

Before I could formulate a meaningful response, Ash was already at the tree, picking up the package and shaking it.

"May I open it? Please." She batted her eyelashes.

"You know very well I can't refuse you anything," I grumbled.

Ash grinned and tore the gold-colored paper from the package. "Oh."

"It's the newest model. With an attachment for the clit. And nine modes." I didn't even know why I was rattling off the vibrator's specs like I was a salesman. Ash could probably read the label on the packaging herself.

Clutching the box against her chest, she turned to me. "Actually, I was going to make cinnamon buns for breakfast—but I'm sure breakfast can wait a few more minutes, right?"

"That depends on whether I get to watch or have to wait down here."

Her eyes lit up. "You'll never have to settle for just watching again. From now on, I expect you to join in."

I walked over to her and pulled her into my arms. "Merry Christmas, Ash."

"Merry Christmas, Norman." She put her hand around the back of my neck, stood on her tiptoes, and kissed me. "This is the best Christmas I've had in a long time."

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Mia Kingsley is a bestselling writer who fancies psychopaths, stalkers, and killers a little too much.

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Copyright © Mia Kingsley, 2021

Cover © Mia Kingsley

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.

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