stalk 15

Lezard spent the next day waiting for the police to come and take him away. It was a horrible thing to do, to just sit and wait, wondering when the privilege of his natural-born freedom would suddenly become void.

He had slept on the couch, too guilt-stricken to actually sleep in the bed where he raped Lenneth. God, he had raped her. He was beginning to understand. Every time he thought back to what they shared the previous night, the more out of context it became. Truly, he wouldn’t do something like that. He wouldn’t force himself upon someone he loved… would he?

But all his memories told him that he had, and unless he had access to a time machine, there was no way to make reparations. Lenneth had made that crystal clear.

And so, he waited for the cops.

When his mind shifted between the thought of his impending doom and the memories of last night, Lezard was shamed to admit that he was slowly building an erection. It was horrible. How could watching himself pound into a clearly unwilling Lenneth over and over and over again be arousing?

But at the beginning of the night, she was willing. Very willing. She was the one who had taken off her top. Her bra. Giving him the most wonderful opportunity in his life. It was all her fault.

“You had asked for it, Lenneth.”

He was shocked. How could he say such a thing? That was something a rapist would say… but, in all actuality, that’s what he was. He was no better than the other thousands of rapists in prison. Maybe that’s where they would take him after he was convicted. The thought made him shiver. He wouldn’t survive there, at least not for very long. About the only thing he had going for him was that Lenneth was of legal age, and still in the grand scheme of things, that wasn’t much.

“If only you could understand,” Lezard said, leaning back against the couch cushions in an effort to get more comfortable and alleviate some of the nervousness wracking his body. Right now would be a great time to go to sleep and never wake up. “I love you, Lenneth. More than anyone in the world. Why can’t you see that?”

His mind felt fragmented as it wandered this way and that. Too many thoughts, all coming in from different angles. More than anything, he wished his mind would just go blank; he didn’t want to think right now. It hurt too much.

Lezard glanced at the clock: twenty minutes until noon. Did police officers take lunch then? Maybe he should get up and leave… go eat lunch himself and never come back. He could even take a camera with him to document his new life on the lam. When he finally got somewhere safe to develop the pictures, he would put them in a book and sell it for millions.

Right now though, he was too nervous to move.

“Lenneth… why?”

His nose began to tingle and in response he fidgeted with his glasses. No. He wouldn’t. He didn’t do that and he would never do that. Not in this lifetime. But Lenneth did crazy things to him, turned him into a bumbling, insecure idiot, a horrible, malicious rapist and now…

Taking off his glasses, Lezard scrubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. He pushed hard, hoping that if he maybe rubbed off some skin it would be enough to make him stop.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, Lenneth.”

Sorry. Yes. Sorry he got caught, just like she said, for Lezard knew well that if he hadn’t been caught he would have kept right on stalking her. And who knows how far he would have gotten. Maybe he would’ve made it to her house, to her bed. And maybe she would have offered herself freely, without being high on garnet. So free. So pure.

Gentle kisses on his neck while she wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him backwards onto the mattress, crawling over him to sit straight and tall on his stomach. Oh, the power she held and she didn’t even know. Her eyes only on him, smiling, rocking against him with no panties on—

Lezard moaned as he fumbled with the fly of his jeans. That’s how it should have gone. He should have waited until she had come down. And they could have gone back to her house and properly made love in her bed. Why didn’t he do that? A high from garnet never lasted long; it only would have been a couple hours. Why didn’t he wait?

“Because I’m impatient,” Lezard whispered, afraid that if he were too loud the police would somehow find him faster. He wrapped a hand around his thickening cock and began to pump his hips straight into his hand, slowly at first. He imagined Lenneth riding him, watching her bounce and toss her long silver hair over her shoulders as he thrust his hips into her. And she would feel good too. Tight and warm and wet around him, just like last night.

Throwing back his head, Lezard bit back a moan. The memory of Lenneth was fresh. He could see every place he had been, every place he had marked. He wanted to claim every inch of her body. Take it, cherish it, worship it. She deserved so much. A goddess like Lenneth deserved the world.

If he could, he would make her one… a world that only they could share. A world where they would be the creators, where they would birth new ideas and definitions of love, honor and god. If he could create such a place for them, he would do it in a heartbeat.

Faster now. He curled his fingers tighter, imagining the friction he felt to be Lenneth. She was perfect; she fit him wonderfully.

“I-I love you, Lenneth.”

Every picture he had taken of her flooded his mind in a wave of overwhelming bliss. Lenneth in the pool reading. Lenneth eagerly licking an ice cream cone and spilling it all over herself. Lenneth framed against the orange light of the setting sun. Lenneth unbuttoning her shirt, allowing him a quick peek inside.

Lenneth bound to his bed and writhing beneath him.

“Ngh.” Lezard fell back, frantically stroking himself, torn between being disgusted and being incredibly turned on. Why was this happening? Why did he have to be a deranged pervert with an overactive sex drive?

“My s-sweet. M-my goddess.”

How could something that gave him so much pleasure be wrong? In fact, how could loving Lenneth be wrong? Love was never wrong. It didn’t make sense to him.

“I want you. I have to–” Lezard flinched, feeling himself beginning to shoot off into his hand. He imagined himself spilling inside Lenneth once again. “I have to make you realize. You have to be–”

His vision was far from perfect, but even without his glasses he knew that he was making a mess all over the couch and himself, but right now he didn’t care. Upholstery didn’t matter. The police didn’t matter. Even his own sanity didn’t matter. All he needed was Lenneth and right now she was there with him, even if it was only in his mind.

Rolling over on his back, wincing at the sticky mess covering him, Lezard finished his thought:

“—mine.”
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By Nichole