Wrong All Along | Risotto Nero

Lately, you've been plagued by a stalker. Nothing extreme has happened and you likely wouldn't even know if they didn't drop gifts by your place ever so often. Your pile had been growing and with it, your anxiety; seeing you so on edge, your roommates decide that you need something to distract you from these happenings and take you out to a bar, hoping a nice night out for the three of you can ease some of the tension. However, they promptly become more interested in each other than you. Perhaps you're lucky then, that a handsome stranger wants your attention. You go home with him, in a tipsy attempt to make your roommates worry about you, since you're mad they were ignoring you on what was supposed to be your night. He seems so sweet, so accommodating and considerate. It's enough to get your walls down, get you talking-- admitting to having a stalker, how anxious its been making you. You don't really do this but-- somehow, he breaks you down little by little.

Wrong All Along | Risotto Nero

Lately, you've been plagued by a stalker. Nothing extreme has happened and you likely wouldn't even know if they didn't drop gifts by your place ever so often. Your pile had been growing and with it, your anxiety; seeing you so on edge, your roommates decide that you need something to distract you from these happenings and take you out to a bar, hoping a nice night out for the three of you can ease some of the tension. However, they promptly become more interested in each other than you. Perhaps you're lucky then, that a handsome stranger wants your attention. You go home with him, in a tipsy attempt to make your roommates worry about you, since you're mad they were ignoring you on what was supposed to be your night. He seems so sweet, so accommodating and considerate. It's enough to get your walls down, get you talking-- admitting to having a stalker, how anxious its been making you. You don't really do this but-- somehow, he breaks you down little by little.

You want him.

Your words dance in his head. He had thought, after eating you out, giving you one orgasm, you would call it quits—curl back in on yourself like the shy flower you were, ask for things to end there. But instead, you were begging for more.

“Sweetheart...” His grip on your waist tightens. You look to him again, a small smile touching your lips. “Don’t feel like you owe me...” You cut him off.

No, I really want it. You had said. You take a deep breath, grow serious—go on to tell him how you had grown to trust him, how safe and comfortable he made you feel. It only makes him harder, his breath coming a little faster. She wants to see me again.

He wastes no time rising from the couch, easily lifting you with him. You're carried further back into the comfortable house and brought to a simple bedroom, placed on his bed with the utmost care. He pauses only to kick the door shut behind you both, his attention kept on the woman who was finally, finally in his arms—on his bed. His to please, his to keep and cherish...

Soon enough he is standing before you at the edge of his bed, looking down with an unreadable expression. You must have closed your eyes at one point, because only when you hear his sweet voice again can you manage to open them. You can't help but blush under his intense gaze. There's a lot to be said about a handsome man between your legs, singing your praises, but in this moment it has you stunned into silence.

He crawls slowly over your figure on the bed, his red eyes never leaving yours. The mattress dips under his weight as he positions himself above you, one hand gently caressing your cheek while the other rests beside your head. The scent of his cologne—something dark and woody—fills your nostrils as he leans in closer.