Page 14 of Stalked By Raiden

But it’s too much. The sight of her, flushed and naked, her hand on my cock, her lips parted in wonder, fuels the ache building inside of me. I tighten my grip over hers, moving faster and rougher. Seconds later, I spill over our joined hands with a groan that sounds torn from my chest.

After, I clean us both with gentle efficiency, carrying her to the bathroom and wiping her down with a warm cloth, then tucking her into bed like something precious. She watches me with heavy-lidded eyes, sated and confused and wanting.

“Come by the shop in a couple of days,” I say, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “I need to check your shoulder.”

She nods, already drifting, and I force myself to leave before I climb into her bed and never leave. As I close the door behind me, I know two things with absolute certainty.

The first is that Drake Krane is never getting anywhere near her.

The second is far more dangerous than the first. Somewhere between the produce aisle and that bed, this stopped being about keeping her safe.

Chapter Four

Elodie

When I wake up the next morning, for one blissful moment, I convince myself I dreamed the entire thing. Meeting Raiden at the grocery store. Bringing him to my apartment. The pleasure he coaxed from my needy body.

A hot flush warms my cheeks as I squirm and smile into my pillow before opening my eyes. It couldn’t have been real. Things like that don’t happen to me. Then I climb out of bed and shuffle into my tiny kitchen and stop.

The grocery bags.

They’re still sitting neatly on my counter exactly where Raiden had left them. A laugh escapes me before I can stop it. It happened. He was here. The realization fills me with a happiness I haven’t felt in years. I unpack the groceries, grateful I’d only bought pantry items, then catch my reflection in the microwave door.

I’m smiling. The woman staring back at me looks lighter somehow. Thoroughly pleasured, and it scares me a little.

It’s fast. I’ve known Raiden for two days. If Sarah knew, she’d probably tell me to slow down and think with my head instead of my heart.

Maybe she’d be right. But every time I remember the way he looks at me like I’m the only one he sees, it becomes harder to care how quickly this is happening. For three years I’ve existed. Teaching has been the only thing that made life feel meaningful.

Now…

Now there’s something worth getting up for. I shake my head, forcing myself to get ready for work before I’m late.

⁎⁎⁎

It’s Friday, and my students have already mentally left the building. Six weeks into the school year and they’ve figured out exactly how much mischief they can get away with. Half of them can’t sit still. The other half insist on showing me every drawing they finish. It’s chaotic and wonderful. Exactly the way I like it.

Minutes later, someone knocks on my classroom door. A delivery driver stands outside holding an enormous bouquet of deep red roses.

“Miss Doyle?”

I blink. “Yes?”

“Delivery for you.”

My heart immediately leaps. Raiden.

A ridiculous warmth spreads through me. He didn’t have to send flowers. He’d seen me less than twenty-four hours ago. Still, I can’t stop smiling as I accept the bouquet.

“They’re beautiful,” Mrs. Langley, a teacher across the hall, says to me.

“Yes, they are,” I reply with a wide smile.

Once the driver leaves, I notice a small ivory envelope tucked between the stems. My smile grows. I open it. Then it disappears.

Playing hard to get only makes me want you more.

You’ll be mine soon.