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EIGHTY

XERO

Amethyst shifts on the mattress, her gaze drifting to the dildo on her nightstand. I tilt my head, wondering if she understands the importance of this training. I could show her the stalker’s letters and pictures, but her mind is unpredictable. If I allow her to fall back into delusions, she’ll become unreachable.

I thought she might hallucinate after I took her to the basement or when I made her practice breaking out of bindings. So far she’s been clear-headed without her medication, and I’m reluctant to cause further mental damage.

She’s dealing with enough real threats. Dredging up pictures from a past she can’t remember might splinter her fragile state.

On another note, my hackers looked into Amethyst’s finances. She was right about her parents keeping her financially dependent. All the expensive-looking items I found in her walk-in closet were all purchased by her mother.

I shouldn’t have gotten so pissed at the items I found on her wishlist, or even her attempts to launch a writing career based on her online fame. She had no choice and was just trying to survive.

If I had been a better man, I would have asked the right questions. Or taken better care of my little ghost instead of reveling in her punishment. Now, I’m addicted to watching her squirm .

“Alright then,” she says, the amber flecks in her pretty green eyes blazing with defiance. “If you’re going to imprison me like a princess in the tower, then you’ll have to keep me appeased.”

“You’re not Rapunzelita,” I say, my voice flat. “You shouldn’t need the full moon to unlock your inner beast.”

Her lips pinch into a tight line. “She was a fictional character.”

“Some authors use stories to bare their souls,” I mutter.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Take off the ropes,” I say.

As she leans forward on the mattress and unties the bindings I placed around her ankles, I slide off my jacket and walk toward her closet.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

“Getting changed.”

“But you can’t go in there.”

I turn to her and smirk. “It’s where I keep my clothes.”

She slides off the bed, pushes past me, and flings open the closet door. Her squawk of outrage loosens a band of tension I’ve held around my chest since the moment I heard her getting attacked.

Grabbing the dildo from her nightstand, I follow Amethyst to find her gaping at the right side of her closet space, which is now filled with my shirts, pants, shoes, jackets, and a bunch of items suitable for a gentleman about town who’s just escaped Death Row.

“What have you done with my stuff?” she screeches as I set down the toy on her mirrored dressing table.

“I sorted through the items I didn’t like and put them in boxes.”

She whirls around, her eyes flashing. “You don’t have the right to touch my things.”

I raise a brow, daring her to elaborate, but she glances away and pouts.

That’s what I thought.

“Where are they?” she mutters.

“Cupboard under the stairs. ”

Her jaw drops. “With those men?”

I place my hands on her shoulders. “In storage boxes set on shelves three feet above ground. They’ll be perfectly safe. These crawlspaces don’t flood.”

She walks along her side of the closet, pulling open drawers. “Where are my costumes? And all my heels?”

“You won’t need them while you’re training.”

“Fuck this.” She rushes to the other side of the closet and yanks one of my jackets off its hanger. “You can’t come into my life and turn it upside down?—”

I grab her by the neck, making her flinch.

“When will you understand? The life you thought you had is over.”

Her eyes widen, and her lips part with a gasp.

“Someone powerful sent five men after you. Five.” I punctuate the word with a gentle shake. “Your enemy is powerful and has guards more skilled than the assholes in the basement.”

“Let go of me,” she says through clenched teeth.

“Not until you explain, in your own words, what’s happening to you.”

She squeezes her eyes shut and jerks her head to the side, refusing to acknowledge the harsh truth. A tear rolls down her cheek, and it takes every effort not to trace the line of water with my tongue.

Amethyst needs to break through the delusion that I’m the biggest threat to her life and recognize she’s in serious danger.

“Amethyst,” I bark.

Her eyes snap open.

“Tell. Me. Why. I’m. Here.”

“To ruin my life.”

“Wrong answer.”

“For revenge.”

I pause. She’s not wrong. I did, after all, convert her crawlspace into a lair to terrorize her for retribution and sexual gratification, but she needs to understand I no longer hold a grudge. She’s mine, and I take care of my possessions.

“Okay. Why am I here, now ?”

“Because you’re territorial. ”

“Go on…”

“You came here to toy with my mind, but someone else got to me first. They’re spoiling your fun, so you want to take them out.”

I lean into her, so we’re breathing the same air. The warmth of her lips radiates into mine, drawing me in for a taste. Everything about this woman is alluring, even the madness she wears as a cloak.

“Correct,” I reply. “We have a truce until every one of those bastards threatening your life is dead.”

“And then?” she whispers, her breath quickening.

“Then every twisted fantasy we talked about will come true.”

She whimpers, the sound going straight to my cock.

“Take off your camisole.”

She stares up at me, her eyes widening, her bottom lip trembling so invitingly that it takes every effort not to seize it between my teeth. Amethyst’s terror is like Marsala wine—rich, dark, and complex. I never know which version I’ll get. The cold killer, the fainting damsel, or last night’s crazed savage.

The more facets of her personality I uncover, the deeper I’m enthralled.

When she doesn’t move, I take my knife from her loose fingers and slide it beneath her camisole’s lace hem.

“What are you doing?” she whispers.

“Something we discussed last month, when you wanted to know what I’d do if I teleported into your bedroom.”

She shivers, her pupils dilating. “But that was just talk.”

My fingers tighten around her neck. “I have seen your soul, and it belongs to me. I have seen your fantasies, your darkest desires, the deepest chambers of your heart. Everything you yearn for will be made real.”

As her eyes flutter shut, I slide the blade up her torso, slicing through the silk fabric until it falls away, revealing those perfect breasts.

I run the cool metal over each nipple, making them pebble.

“Xero,” she whispers, her voice breathy. “Are you going to stick the hilt in my pussy?”

“Topping from the bottom, little ghost?” I ask with a smirk .

Cheeks darkening, she shakes her head. “It was just a question.”

“Take off your shorts.”

She bows her head, breathing so hard and fast that I’m mesmerized by the rise and fall of her tits. My little ghost might complain and whine, but she’s spent her entire life sleepwalking. I’m the only man who makes her truly awake.

My blade finds the waistband of her silk shorts, and I cut it with a single slash. The silk fabric falls into a puddle by her feet, leaving her gloriously naked.

“Hands on the shoe rack,” I command.

“What?”

“Do it.” I spin her around, place each of her hands on a shelf, and kick her legs apart.

The sight of her spread out for me makes sensation rush south. My heart pounds, my breath quickens as I take in every delicious curve and contour. Her pert ass cheeks, glowing with red handprints, taper down into shapely thighs that part to reveal a tantalizing peek of heaven.

Her trembling triggers every predator instinct, and the heady yet familiar scent of her arousal wafts up, urging me to claim what’s mine.

She glances up at me over her shoulder. “Wait?—”

My response is a spank hard enough to make her hiss. Her ass jiggles, so I slap the other cheek, and chuckle as her hips buck.

I reach for the dildo I left on her dressing table and flip open a jar of something creamy.

“Wait,” she says, her voice trembling. “That’s my collagen cream. It’s over two hundred dollars a jar.”

My eyes narrow. “Your virgin asshole deserves only the very best.”

Her jaw clicks shut.

When she doesn’t complain any further, I stick my fingers in the cool substance, scoop out a generous amount, and circle her tight little pucker. “I’m going to stretch your sweet little hole with this cream. Keep it nice and supple for my cock.”

Her breath catches. “I’ve never had anyone else’s fingers up there. ”

“But you’ve used the toy?” I ask.

She gives me a shaky nod.

“Did you practice like I told you?”

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Good girl. Then you’ll find my fingers a breeze.”

I slip one lubricated digit through the tight ring of muscle, and it feels like being welcomed home. We both exhale long moans. How many mornings did we spend, miles apart, exchanging this fantasy? How many nights did I picture her trapped against me in this same position? Virtually every single one since I received her letter.

“Greedy little ghost,” I murmur against her cheek. “You’ve been aching for my cock.”

“Let me have it. Please.”

For a single heartbeat, I wonder if I’m standing within the prison’s blind spot with a raging erection and my back turned to the world, imagining I’m with Amethyst. I blink and realize it’s real. I’m out of prison. In her bedroom closet. About to fill her sweet virgin ass.

My finger slides in and out of her greedy little hole and is soon joined by another. Amethyst throws her head back and rolls her hips, desperate for more.

That’s one thing she can’t fake. Her naked desire. Our sexual compatibility. It’s the one raw, unguarded truth between us, a beacon amidst the deceit and betrayal.

But as those tight muscles grip my fingers, a pang of sadness grips my heart. I want Amethyst.

Desperately.

But I can’t trust her, not anymore. The woman I thought I knew, the woman who owned my heart, turned out to be a mirage. And yet, in moments like this, she’s utter perfection, as if the universe made her for me.

My mind drifts back to those sweet mornings, the whispered promises, the dreams we wove of a possible future. I wanted what we had to be real. I wanted to believe in her, in us. But the illusion shattered, leaving only this aching void.

She lied to me, used me, but that doesn’t erase the way her body responds to mine, the way her eyes darken with need .

I shove the sadness aside, burying it deep where it can’t interfere with the here and now. This moment, her vulnerability, her raw desire—are mine.

As much as it hurts, I can’t release this twisted connection. She’s mine, even if she hasn’t realized it yet.

I lean closer, my breath mingling with hers. “Good girl,” I murmur. “You’re taking my fingers so well.”

“More, Xero. I need it.”

I reach around with my other hand to rub her clit, and she’s soaked. “Fuck. Look at the mess you’ve made of my fingers. You’re my perfect little ghost.”

She exhales a strangled moan.

“If you want my cock, you’re going to lick those fingers clean.” I bring them to her lips.

She sucks on them so hard that my knees buckle. I want to throw her onto her knees and fuck her mouth. Come so deeply down her throat that her breath is forever tainted by my cum. I shove aside that thought for now and focus on her ass.

Her walls spasm around my fingers, seeming eager to be stretched. Pulling out, I unfasten my fly and extract my cock. Even though it streams enough precum to lubricate the slide, I coat my shaft with more of her collagen cream.

“You ready for me, little ghost?” I ask, trying to keep my voice even as I line up my crown with her virgin pucker.

“Yes,”

I press forward, pushing through the ring of muscle once more. Her body gives way, sucking me into her tight, hot heat.

She gasps, her frame stiffening, her muscles clamping so hard around my shaft that it takes every ounce of self-control not to push deeper. She’s too fragile. Too precious. I won’t add to her trauma by pushing her body too far.

Gritting my teeth, I wrap an arm around her waist and hold her close. “You feel so fucking good,” I say, my lips grazing her ear. “But I need you to relax.”

She gives me a shaky nod. “A-Alright.”

The frantic beat of her heart against mine matches the rhythm of the muscles squeezing my cock. Every pulse draws me deeper, nearly driving me insane .

I’ve never felt so close to another human. Never opened my heart and soul. Our videos, letters, and daily conversations have etched this woman into my psyche. She might have more faces than a pack of playing cards, and there’s no guarantee that anything between us was ever real, but nobody else matches me so completely.

Muscles relaxing, she bows her head, and I push further into her tight heat. Lowering my lips to the juncture of her neck, I nip at her soft flesh.

“If I had fangs, I would claim you. Inject your veins with venom and forever mark you as mine.”

I draw back, feeling her sphincter muscles tighten around my shaft, trying to keep me in. As my cock head stretches her hole, I snap my hips and reenter her to the hilt.

“Oh, God!” she cries.

“That’s right, little ghost, but I prefer Xero.”

I build up a rhythm of slow, deep thrusts that elicit throaty moans. Her grip around my cock is so tight it borders on painful. Fucking her ass is intimate, raw, intense. A paradise I never knew existed.

My hand slips from her waist and over to the dildo I left on the dressing table. Picking it up, I guide it to her wet pussy.

“You’re going to take my cock and my dildo,” I murmur against her neck. “Can you do that for me, little ghost?”

She gasps, her body quivering with anticipation. “Oh, fuck.”

“That’s right. I’m going to fill your ass until it feels like I’m hitting the back of your throat. Then I’ll slide a silicone replica of my cock into your sweet pussy and make you speak in tongues.”

“Please,” she says through clenched teeth. “Do it.”

At her words, the last vestiges of my self-control snaps, and I give into our shared fantasy. I push the dildo deep into her pussy, timing it with my thrust.

Her back arches, and she releases a choked moan. “Xero.”

“Two cocks, little ghost,” I say, my voice thick with arousal. “That’s my greedy little slut.”

I quicken the pace, taking her harder, deeper, the dual cocks moving in sync. She squirms against my chest, gasping and moaning my name .

Her juices seep down, coating both my fingers and the base of the dildo. She releases the shelf and digs her fingernails into the hand wrapped around her waist.

“Good girl,” I growl against the shell of her ear. “You’re taking my cocks so well.”

Her body trembles, and her cries become erratic as I pound into those tight holes, driving us closer to the edge.

“You like that, don’t you?” I growl into her ear. “I wish I’d brought another dildo to fill your mouth.”

“Xero, can I come?”

My eyes roll to the back of my head. “I love it when you ask for permission because your pleasure is mine.”

“Yours,” she says, her voice hoarse.

“We’ll come together,” I say, the words escaping my throat in a growl.

She writhes against my chest, and her inner muscles tighten around my cock and the dildo. Her orgasm is so close I can almost taste the change in the air. It reminds me of how the atmosphere shifts at the onset of a thunderstorm, only far sweeter.

“Good girl. Squeezing me so tight,” I say through clenched teeth, clinging onto the frayed edges of my control. I’m determined not to come first.

Twisting the dildo, I rub the silicone Jacob’s Ladder against her g-spot, making her gasp and twitch. “Come for me, little ghost. Now.”

She shatters around my shaft, her muscles rippling, pumping, squeezing, milking me through my climax.

My body tenses as I explode inside her tight ass, and I continue thrusting, riding out both our orgasms. As I reach the peak of my euphoria, I stare down at the beautiful little creature writhing in my arms, lost in the throes of ecstasy. Her cries echo off the walls, filling the closet with the symphony of our mingled pleasure.

“That’s it, little ghost. I want you to come so hard you’ll wake the dead.”

As we drift down from our orgasm, her body collapses against mine. The dildo slips out of her pussy and lands on the floorboards with a soft thud .

I pull her close, hugging her from behind. Amethyst is mine. Mine to possess, mine to control, mine to please. And I will do anything, kill anyone, to keep her safe.

Nothing can come between us now. Not Father, not X-Cite Media, not even this mystery stalker can get between me and what’s mine.