Page 19

E veryone still seems to be sleeping when I leave the bathroom, my mask on, regardless, a towel wrapped low around my hips.

I sneak back into the bedroom—yup, Bunny hasn’t even moved—and her sweet perfume mixed with an intoxicating scent of her arousal fills the entire space.

It clings to the air like a drug. I could bottle it.

Inject it. Breathe it in until it coats my lungs like tar.

My cock twitches, waking up again.

I grab a fresh pair of sweats since the ones from the night are all covered in my precum. The memory flashes—her gasping, grinding, begging without words.

I clench my fists and toss my head, trying to stay focused.

Then I quietly go downstairs to start breakfast. I’d bring it up to her in bed. Like a perfect boyfriend. It’ll make her smile. Make her feel safe. Loved. It’s all part of the performance.

But it’s the last moments I have to pretend. After that, no more hiding from her my obsession, the darkness within me, who I truly am, and what I plan to do to her.

The thing is, she was so willing last night that she got into my head again.

Because I know we could be happy. If only she would give herself to me. Fully. Completely. I’d train her to be my good little sub how I always wanted, and she would learn to love it.

Learn to thank me for it.

Learn to beg for more.

Her pain would be holy. Her tears—sacred. I’d worship the way she breaks beneath me.

Not that I mind taking her by force. It’s even preferred. There’s something about the struggle that makes it sweeter. The craft of breaking her piece by piece, then putting her back together, only to shatter her once more. I can already imagine how her terror will taste on my tongue.

She won’t escape these woods.

Can’t escape me now.

And she’ll see soon enough—when there’s nowhere to run to, when every exit leads back to me—that this was always where she belonged. In my hands. Under my control. Mine.

But I know that deep down she wants that.

She wants me to chase her.

She wants me to corner her, to make the decision for her, to rip away her excuses and show her what loving me really looks like. To force her to take all that I’d give.

She can play it down however she likes, but I’ve seen the proof. How desperately she needs me…

After Valentine’s, I stayed in the city.

The plan had changed, and I needed different tools.

I did some extra shopping before I returned to her brownstone the next evening.

I waited in the freezing cold across the street, hunched behind a tight row of parked cars.

And finally watched her leave with Kendra for girls’ night, all dolled up and smiling like she wasn’t just having a nervous breakdown the other day.

Fucking oblivious to what had happened when she was unconscious.

Or that she was still being spied on.

I stayed still for a while longer, in case that little scatterbrain forgot something.

Then I moved. Using the spare key, I slipped inside her home like I belonged.

I installed the cameras. One in the bathroom vent, facing the shower. One inside her bedroom’s smoke detector. Another tucked in a bookshelf, disguised in a hollowed-out candle jar. All with remote access, night vision, and motion triggers.

I set up a notification system on my phone to ping me when she undressed. When she bathed. When she moaned in her sleep.

Of course, I couldn’t resist going further.

Her bedroom was a shrine. My shrine .

I quickly discovered her “fun drawer,” where she kept her toys—a compact pink wand, some lube, a pair of fluffy cuffs, and a very average-sized dildo. Her scent still clung to the silicone and I imagined how my pierced cock, nearly twice as big, would split that tight pussy open.

Fuck, she got me going crazy again.

I stole a few pairs of her panties—some sexy ones, others just the softest cotton with colorful cartoon prints.

And a bra that she hardly ever wore, the kind with lace along the edges and pink, satin cups.

Each piece mainly smelled like fresh laundry, but just knowing she’d worn them was enough of a satisfaction for my lonely nights back home.

My cock was fully hard at that point, throbbing in my pants.

I laid on her bed, pressing my face into the stack of pillows, and inhaled—shampoo, cotton-candy perfume, her sweet pussy, and the faint musk of sleep and sweat.

I jerked off fast, pumping furiously into my fist. Then buried my cock in her sheets as I spilled violently, marking her bed like a fucking dog. I moaned her name, over and over, until my voice went hoarse.

I didn’t even clean up. I let my cum dry right into the fabric. Let her wonder what smelled different the next time she laid down. I wanted her to feel me without knowing why. To squirm in her sleep without understanding the violation. To ache between her thighs and think it was just hormones.

But it was me.

It’d always been me.

So I probably shouldn’t have been surprised when she played with her pussy that very same night, crying out my name as she made herself squirt using her wand.

The next weeks were the worst and best in my whole life.

Worst —because I could only passively watch.

Best —because that little nympho masturbated almost every night. Or morning. Sometimes during the day, too.

Usually, it was quick. Her trusty pink wand always made her come, with no foreplay needed. But other times, she got more creative… and I lived for those moments.

I think my favorite memory is of her using the gift I sent her a while before, when we’d been talking.

I sat in the dark in front of my computer, one hand around the whiskey glass on my desk, the other resting just inches from my lap, heart already kicking harder as the feed from her room flickered into sharp focus.

Bunny was backlit by the soft pink glow of LED lights, casting a halo around her like some corrupted little angel. The sound was low, but I could hear her perfectly—her tiny feet shifting on the mattress, the faint creak of her bed, the subtle drag of cotton against sheets.

Lost in whatever fantasy got her excited, she was humming softly as she slowly undressed from my t-shirt —because of course she continued to wear it—baring her breasts to the camera like a gift.

Her hands covered her tits, kneading gently, while her dainty fingers played with the taut, pink nipples.

Her breath hitched as her body writhed under her touch.

Her underwear was soft cotton, pale lavender with a tiny satin bow in the front. Not lacy. Not slutty. Worse. It looked innocent. Playful. Sweet. It was almost cruel when she parted her thighs wide enough that I could see a damp spot on the thin fabric between them.

And her stockings… Fuck, those stupid little white cotton knee-highs with the delicate ruffles at the top. Like she wanted to be a show.

She’d barely even started, and she already had me dying over here with a raging hard-on.

Then she suddenly stopped and lifted her head, looking at something. She just bit her bottom lip, crawled across the bed, and straddled the oversized teddy bear I had once shipped to her.

Six feet of plush and fluff and a red bow around its neck.

She settled on top of the bear slowly, dragging her hands up her thighs, over her hips, across her ribs, all the way up to her hair.

She rocked once, hips rolling in a slow grind, testing it—just to see how it felt beneath her.

Her head lolled back, and she exhaled through parted lips, eyes fluttering shut.

I didn’t breathe. I couldn’t.

Her hands slid down her neck, back onto her breasts. She pulled and pinched her nipples harder. Her mouth opened in a silent moan. And then I heard it.

“Daddy…”

Barely audible. But enough to make my cock flex under the fabric of my sweats.

She said it again, breathier this time. Whispered it like she was ashamed of it.

Like she couldn’t stop herself. Her hand moved lower, slipping beneath the waistband of her panties, her other bracing on the teddy’s round, plush belly as she rocked harder now—humping the thing like she needed it.

Like it was a warm body between her thighs.

Like it was me .

I adjusted in my chair, pulled down the waistband of my sweats, and wrapped my hand around my hard length with a low hiss.

God, she was spectacular.

Her flushed skin. Her tits swaying in sync with her hips. The tension in her thighs. I only saw glimpses as she rubbed against the synthetic fur, but her panties were now drenched with her sweet juices.

I could almost smell her if I let myself imagine hard enough.

She was panting, biting at her lip so hard it looked like it might bleed. Her hips moved even faster. Her whole petite body shivered with every slow, grinding thrust.

And then she said my fucking name. Soft. Desperate. Like she was praying to it.

“Ghost…”

My eyes nearly rolled back, but I couldn’t miss even a split second of the action on the screen.

Precum was dripping down my shaft along the engorged veins, and I used it as a lube, stroking myself painfully slow.

I didn’t want to finish too fast, but I also couldn’t ignore the throbbing need any longer.

Bunny shifted on the bed, climbing higher, hands pressing into the sheets for leverage. My breath caught as she straddled the plush muzzle, her thighs bracketing its oversized head, like she wanted to smother it with her cunt.

Her fingers hooked under the crotch panel of her panties and slid them aside.

Not off. Just to the side. As if taking them off would make it real, make it wrong.

Her bare wet pussy glistened in the low light as she ground down onto the bear’s snout like it could breathe her in.

Like it could taste her. Like it was hungry for her.

I couldn’t fucking move.

I imagined being under her like that. Not the bear. Me . My mouth buried in her, my pierced tongue lapping at her, my hands gripping her hips tight enough to bruise.

I’d keep her there. Hold her still. Make her stay seated until she’d beg for mercy. But I wouldn’t stop, greedily eating her out till my last breath.

My hand was tight around my cock, movements fast and rough, The screen showed everything—her slick inner thighs rubbing against the fur, the way her hips rocked in rhythm, little whines catching in her throat like she couldn’t control them.

Her fingers found her clit again, rubbing quick little circles as she gasped, back arching. She rode harder now, faster, her moans coming louder, slipping through her teeth like curses. The glow from her pink lights shimmered off the sweat on her chest, her breasts bouncing with each grind.

“Oh, Daddy…” Her breath caught in that tiny, choked sound I’d die to hear in person. “I’m coming…”

And I lost it.

Cum spilled hot over my hand as I stared, helpless to do anything but watch her fall apart—panting, twitching, eyes fluttering shut as she bucked once, twice more against the bear’s head before collapsing into a shaking, flushed heap.

Her hands curled around the plush ears, clinging to them like a lifeline. Her thighs trembled as aftershocks rocked through her. Her breathing slowed. And the way she looked afterward—used up, dazed, content—made something feral snap in my chest.

Goddamnit, I wanted her like that on me.

“Hey, bro.”

I nearly jump when I hear Dev’s voice behind me, snapping me out of my daydreaming.

Nate walks down the stairs just behind him, avoiding looking at me.

I smile behind my mask, knowing exactly what’s eating at him.

He saw me fingering Bunny on the porch yesterday.

And I bet that loser was up all night, beating his pathetic meat while she moaned my name until she couldn’t breathe, as I made her come over and over again.

Dev isn’t any better. He’s been smitten with her for her long before I even knew she existed.

It’s not a coincidence they’re both here right now.

None of this is a coincidence.

Everything is part of the grand scheme…

“Are the girls up yet?” I ask, acting casual.

Dev shrugs, so I turn to Nate.

“Yeah, I think they were fighting over a bathroom,” he tells me, quiet and nervous.

I go upstairs to check on them. My room is empty, but I hear muffled voices coming from Bunny and Kendra’s bedroom.

I approach closer and listen.

“Don’t you think it has anything to do with that case in Alaska?” Kendra’s voice cuts through the door, hushed but distinct. “A group of friends in a remote cabin… I get it—it sounds too familiar. And it’s been a while since you worked on something paranormal. Maybe you’re just not ready?”

“I know what I saw,” Bunny says. Her voice is tense, laced with that delicious uncertainty I love. “His eyes… like, there was this weird shine in them.”

Hm. She’s talking about me.

Interesting.

Is she finally catching on?

“Glowing eyes, really?” Kendra replies, clearly skeptical, still clinging to reason like a security blanket.

I knew why I picked you. That doubt makes you predictable. Soft.

“And his tongue…” Bunny continues, voice dropping lower. “Kendra, it wasn’t human.”

I smirk to myself.

“Babes, what exactly are you saying?”

“I don’t know… but something was out here last night. We’ve all heard it. And when I got up in the middle of the night, he was just standing by the stairs. It was weird.”

“So you think Ghost is possessed by a ghost or something?”

“Or something.”

The confusion twisting inside that pretty little head of hers—so raw, so tender. Silly, Bun-bun. Soon, you’ll understand.

“Look, you got spooked and your imagination went wild,” Kendra brushes it off. “Now, tell me how it was!”

“I mean, it was amazing…” Bunny’s tone shifts to something softer, and I know she’s blushing. “Better than I’d ever imagined. He made me come so many times I was about to pass out.”

My cock stirs at the memory. The sound of her voice flushed with pleasure, remembering how I split her open and watched her unravel.

“Well, now you’re just bragging, bitch!”

They both giggle.

I knock on the door, firm and measured. “Hey, you two, breakfast is ready. We should head out soon.”

“Um, okay. We’ll be down in a sec!” Kendra calls.

Then Bunny whispers, barely audible, “How long was he there? Did he hear us?”

Oh, I’ve heard, baby…