Lena After Dark

He scanned the area to see where such lurid thoughts were coming from. Once he spotted the perpetrator, he delved deeper. He honed in on not just the words, but the visions behind them. The woman was imagining herself beneath the grasp of him. She pushed and tried to wriggle away, but the Praetorian held her firmly and forced himself inside of her again and again. She moaned, she cried, and she came beneath him.

In the real world, the woman was engaged in conversation with the person beside her. She was trying to hide it, but he could see it. He could see her flushed cheeks and the way her eyes glazed over here and there, lost in her reverie. He, too, was swept up in the fantasy. He memorized every detail of it. He palmed himself through his pants - hard at the obscenities she was unaware she was sharing with him.

Even after they went their separate ways, the Praetorian found himself replaying her thoughts for himself. He thought it was a fleeting feeling - something he would forget about soon. But the more he heard her desperate whimpers in his head, the stronger his urge grew to hear them from her lips. To feel the weight of her pushing back against him, and the efforts being futile. He hadn't gotten so hunt up on a person from such a fleeting moment before. This was going to be fun.

It hardly distracted from his work to follow her. To see where she lived, and learn her routine. He could blend in - when he wanted to, that is. He was a professional after all. He became familiar with the places that she frequented, and when. Sometimes he trailed her while invisible. Sometimes with an altered appearance. Sometimes as himself, just far away enough that she wouldn't see him. But he could see her perfectly. His new toy. His obsession.

He was more patient than he thought he ever could be. He wanted the tension to build. What started as a silent shadowing became a more obvious message - I am following you. He put himself in her line of sight. He stood outside her windows until she noticed, then he'd vanish. He unlocked her door once before she left for the day. Just for fun. Just to make her paranoid. He thought it was cute when she was scared. That was part of the fantasy, wasn't it? Fearful and powerless woman ravaged by a superhuman beast.

Now the games could begin. Not only had she seen him, she had recognized that it was him who was her constant shadow. The Praetorian, who she'd been admiring a few months ago, was now a cause for paranoia. He chuckled to himself as he watched her hurry home, her keys shaking in her hands as she let herself inside. Tonight would be the night. She was going out with friends. He knew that, as he knew her entire schedule. All of his patience before washed away, and he was watching the minutes on the clock. He had to leave her for a meeting with the Bastard.

He wondered what powers would appear to aid him in getting her alone. He wasn't going to wait. Wherever she was when he was done, that's where he'd have her.

A dodgy club on the outskirts of town. How cliche, he thought. Enough traffic to not be completely tucked away, but surrounded by businesses that had shut down long ago. A shady little alley. Cliche, yet perfect. Now to get her outside - alone. He'd let fate decide. What power would show itself?

Technopathy? Easy. A fake message on her phone would prompt her to leave, and he'd simply stop the request for a ride. He might've liked more of a challenge, had he not been so eager to fuck her.

Once she stepped outside, he wasted no time. He did wonder, though, if she'd try to run. He hoped she would.

"Hey there," he said casually. He wished he could've caught her expression on film so he could print it and keep it. The realization. The panic. She took a few cautionary steps back. "Not going to run? That's a shame."

He had a hold of her before she could change her mind, and with ease the Praetorian dragged her around the corner and into the alley. She was against the wall before her mind registered the need to scream. His hand went to her mouth faster, though.

The supposed hero bent his head down to sniff the skin of her neck, and breathed in the scent of her hair. He let out a low moan and opened his mouth to get a taste of her - still salty with sweat.

She was pushing against him with all her might - her hands grabbing at his hair to try to pull his head away from her, her chest bumping into his to try to create distance. It wasn't helping, but he liked it. He grabbed one of her hands and placed it on the bulge that had formed in his pants. She instantly recoiled it, causing him to chuckle.

"Don't act so shy, sweetheart. I've seen the things that turn you on. You're just as twisted as I am."

She bit at his hand. It caught him off guard, and he released his hold on her mouth. "Get off of me! Help!" It wasn't much of a cry. He laughed at her now.

"That was pathetic. We'll have to work on that, won't we?"

He brought his mouth to hers with bruising pressure, forcing his tongue inside. She bit him again, but he was prepared for it this time. He moaned into her mouth and groped at her body as he massaged their tongues together. She fought against him more, but when he moved his lips from hers and down to her chest, she didn't scream again. Instead she pleaded. "Please let me go," and, "stop," were repeated while he exposed her breasts to the night air. One of his hands went to her neck - not to squeeze, but to hold her in place. The other went beneath her clothes and into her underwear, feeling her wetness. He pushed his finger inside of her, causing her to gasp and plead more. After he pulled it out, he rubbed her own wetness onto her lips.

The Praetorian could see the lust behind the tears that welled in the corners of her eyes. She was panting, mouth slightly open. He couldn't wait anymore. Perhaps he'd have time to tease her body during their next encounter.

With one hand, he stripped her bare from the waist down. He freed his cock and grabbed onto her hair, making her look down at him. He saw her eyes widen and he grinned at the sight. With the hand that had removed her underwear, he grasped her leg and lifted it to his waist. He let go of her hair long enough to align himself with her pussy and start to push in before he grabbed on again, forcing her to look up at him.

The screech that left her when he forced himself all the way inside of her was a sound he'd never forget. "Fuck, sweetheart, you do have some lungs on ya, after all."

Immediately he started at a relentless pace - pounding into her as she continued to push at him. Her tears were flowing freely now, and her pleading turned into blubbering. One word at a time, "please... hurts... no..." Until her words became unintelligible and moans - of ecstasy or agony, replaced them.

Satisfied that she wasn't going to look away, the Praetorian grabbed her other leg and hoisted her completely in the air. The angle allowed him deeper inside, and she let out shuddering cries as she pushed against his shoulders, trying to push up and away to relieve some of the pressure. He pressed her closer to the wall, keeping her still as he pounded into her.

She grabbed at his hair with one hand, and dug into his shoulder with the fingernails of the other. He grinned and wrapped her legs around him fully. She locked her feet together, which allowed him to release one of her legs so that he could massage her clit.

The Praetorian didn't stop rubbing her clit the first time she came. Nor the second. After the third, when her voice had gone hoarse and she'd managed to puncture his skin, he felt himself nearing climax and instead grabbed her jaw, making her look at him as he came inside her.

The cards helped him end the night perfectly. He teleported the both of them back to her home. She was unconscious, likely from the sensation, and he removed the rest of her clothes and shoes to lay her down in bed.

When she woke in the morning, body bruised and weak, there was a message from an unknown number on her phone.

"You'll be seeing me again, sweetheart. Very soon."

He saw you out walking and his first instinct was to follow you. Instantly intrigued, he had to watch you; to know what you were doing, to see where you were going. The feeling washed over him so suddenly that he couldn't ignore it. You were special.

Henry watched you every day for a week. He knew that he had to have you. You had to be a part of his new world. To stand beside him. When he finally approached you, he was perfectly polite. A gentleman in every way. He was charming and direct, and he knew once you agreed to spending time with him that he had you.

He invaded your mind. He saw your memories and used them as a guide to form a bond. To make you want him. To make you need him. If you fell for him, he knew you'd see his vision.

Then things changed. He knew that eventually Dr. Brenner would come looking for him. He just hadn't expected to be so easy to find. He'd have to leave - and you were going to come with him. He hadn't yet gotten to show you how perfect things would be.

You were witness all at once to what he could do. Henry, who had been so gentle with you, wreaking carnage upon those that had been sent to take him back to the lab. A mess of mangled bodies strewn about, blood splattered here and there. Some of it had landed on you. The warmth of it surprised you when it splashed against your skin. The smell of rust and death. It felt like a nightmare.

You ran before you could process anything. Your instincts took over and you fled. You could hear Henry calling for you. "Why are you running? I did this for you!" Henry's voice was just loud enough to reach your ears; his tone almost pleading.

He let you flee for a moment - processing his confusion and pain. But he stopped you in the end. And as he held your wriggling form against him, he reminded you over and over that it was for you. Everything he did was for you. To keep you safe.

To keep you.