The microwave beep echoes loudly throughout my nearly empty apartment, signaling that my poor excuse of a dinner is ready. I turn the knob on the bathroom door, then walk through the open living room and into the kitchen.
My apartment is tiny, nothing fancy, just a small bachelor apartment above a quaint little shop, but it’s all I need. It’s basically one large room, save for the miniscule bathroom toward the back of the room. The studio space is a living room and bedroom combo, and the open concept kitchen is complete with a breakfast bar. It’s bare and clean, just the way I like it. I never stay in one place long enough to bother with pictures or personal belongings. I have my equipment, my blades, my bike, and my clothes. I don’t need anything else.
Reaching the microwave, I swing the door open just as it’s about to beep again, sparing my eardrums from the most annoying noise ever. I grab the plate of steaming leftover Chinese food before closing the door with my other hand, then grabbing the fork I left on the counter. I cross the kitchen to the breakfast bar, where my laptop is set up and plastered with pictures of my new obsession.
Since leaving the café a few hours ago, I’ve managed to hack into all her social media accounts and have gone through way too many conversations with friends and clients, but no family, from what I can tell. Sloan, the one I saw her with at the café, appears to be her childhood best friend and Jonah, that fucker, is her ex-boyfriend, who according to their recent dirty little conversations, is still fucking around with her.
I’ll be changing that tonight.
I hungrily shovel down the food while clicking through pages upon pages of selfies and tagged posts, learning everything I can about my girl before I surprise her at the Devil’s Night party later this evening. Based on her photos alone, it’s clear she’s Halloween-obsessed and a talented tattoo artist.
I might even have to convince her to add some ink to my collection… maybe her name across my cock.
When it comes to chatting with her clients, she’s professional and polite, like a nice little girl. Knowing I’m going to ruin her has my cock itching to leave this minute, desperate to have her looking at me again the same way she did at the café. Picking up my dishes, I head to the sink to wash them quickly, knowing that if I don’t do it now, it will only piss me off later knowing that I left them when I should have done them when I was done eating. Messes are one of my biggest pet peeves, and I cannot risk anything ruining my night tonight.
With the dishes and kitchen thoroughly cleaned, I make my way to the tiny bathroom and start up a hot shower. I strip down and step inside, letting the steaming water sting my skin as it cascades down my body. The bite from the scalding water on my skin mixed with thoughts of my little nightmare has my dick hard in no time. I grab the bar of soap from the shelf and lather my hands up with thick suds before running my hands across my body, starting with my arms and chest. I work my way down until I reach my rock-hard length. Slowly stroking from the base to the tip has me growling as my soapy hand slides over each piercing of my Jacob’s Ladder.
There are six in total, and each one is more sensitive than the last as they get closer to the tip. I pump myself nice and slow, working myself up for a release I won’t allow myself to have.
No.
My next release will be with my little nightmare, ruined and crying on my cock, begging me to stop while I fill her with my cum.
Once I’m freshly showered and dressed in my attire for the night: black jeans, a black tee, and my favorite leather jacket, I grab the scarecrow mask I bought earlier along with my favorite blade, Mori, and tuck them into the pocket of my jacket. Skipping out the door, I am eager to get the night’s festivities started.
The lake house was easier to find than I thought it would be based on satellite images, and my girl was right; those roads around the lake are fucking brutal at night, especially on a bike. You’d think with the kind of money this Brandon Miller dude has, he would’ve paid to have the roads paved by now, but I guess he’d rather spend it on fancy lights and top of the line stereo systems. It seems as though Mr. Miller is trying to compensate for something…
The music blasts all around me and the bass thumps through my body as I climb off my bike, casually removing my matte black helmet. Placing it on the seat of my bike, I scan the crowds of people with a predatory gaze, searching for tonight’s prey.
Everyone is already bombed by the looks of it, dancing in random places all over the yard. Some girls, desperate for attention, have even resorted to climbing on top of the picnic tables to dance in their slutty costumes, but none of them are my girl. She must not be here yet.
I lean myself against my bike and pull out my mask from inside my jacket, sliding it over my head with ease. My eyes are covered by a thin black mesh, allowing me to see out, but no one to see in. I turn my attention back on the partying crowds. A few cars down is an F150 with its tailgate down and a young couple practically fucking in the back of the truck while their friends drunkenly dance around them.
I smirk and shake my head; tonight is going to be good. Tonight is going to be easy.
As if right on cue, a car slowly rolls by me, then parks and out climbs my girl. In the most fitting costume, like she planned it just for me. A goddamn fucking angel.
My dick pulses in my pants, and I force myself to bite down hard on my lip beneath my mask at the sight of her as she opens the car door and steps out wearing a tiny little white corset top with a short white skirt. Paired with silver wings, a fluffy halo, and, as if her perfect little body in that downright sinful costume wasn’t going to be drawing enough male attention, she has tiny rhinestones scattered about her perfectly toned legs.
She wanted to stand out. She wanted to make it easy for me to find her in the crowds of people as if she didn’t stand out already.
Her long dark hair is hanging down her back in perfect waves, and all I can think about is how badly I want to run my hands through it while she’s bent over in front of me. My girl could make any outfit look good, but this one, showing just enough skin for me to get a peek at some of the ink she has painted on her pristine skin, will forever be my favorite. She wore it for me. A little taste of what she keeps hidden behind her leather jacket. A peek at what’s about to be mine.
Fuck, she is too perfect.
Her friend from the café, Sloan, follows suit, climbing out of the car wearing an almost identical red top with a slit up the front that can barely contain her huge tits, with two devil horns on her head.
They’re laughing and giggling. My girl has the brightest, widest smile as they make their way through the crowds toward the house with their arms locked, and I can’t wait to ruin it.
I follow them up the path to the large lake house, keeping myself far enough behind that I won’t risk drawing their attention. The music gets louder the closer we get to the house, and at one point, I watch as my girl stops, using her friend’s arm to keep her balance as she slides her cute little feet out of the strappy silver heels she paired with her outfit.
They reach the large log deck of the ranch-style home, stopping by the door to grab a few drinks each from the cooler before joining in on the party. Inside, the celebration is in full swing, the music so loud I can barely hear my own thoughts as I follow them through each of the rooms, watching them greet the people they pass.
My little nightmare seems nervous, and my guess is it has something to do with her little arrangement with Jonah, which I suspect her best friend knows nothing about. I learned from their text conversations that Sloan isn’t Jonah’s biggest fan, and from some of the shit she said about what he’s pulled with my girl, I’m not surprised. The guy sounds like a real piece of shit, so of course I had to do some of my own research on him, and while he may not be the worst looking guy in this shit town, he’s the typical small town, old money mama’s boy. He’s not good enough for my girl. There’s nothing special about him except for maybe Cara, and after tonight, he won’t even have her.
My eyes trail her through the waves of people as I stay hidden amongst the shadows the trees provide.
She approaches the bonfire with Sloan, rubbing her hands together before holding them out towards the flames, seeking warmth from the night’s chill. The fire’s glow illuminates her gorgeous eyes and pink cheeks as she stares aimlessly into the flames. People start to huddle up near the fire, blocking my view of my girl, so I retreat to the shadows in search of a new spot to watch her.
Cara’s best friend is suddenly distracted by a lanky man in the distance, eye fucking her as he walks toward the house. There’s an exchange of words between Cara and Sloan, leading Sloan to semi-reluctantly bounce her way inside the house, following the man like a loyal dog.
After a few minutes of battling the cold alone, she leaves the fire. She disappears inside and I quickly catch up, following her along the main level of the house, watching her tight little ass bounce as she makes her way from room to room until she stops at the punch bowl.
I find a shadowed corner with a perfect view and lean myself against the wooden wall. She sets down an empty beer bottle before grabbing a plastic cup from the table, using the ladle to fill her cups to the brim with the red liquid. She tosses it back, repeating the action at least twice more without hesitation.
Fuck, my girl can drink.
Watching her brings a proud smile to my face, discreetly hidden behind my scarecrow mask, until someone brushes up against me, pulling my attention from my prey.
“Hey baby, why yurr over here all by yourself? Come dance with me,” the drunk bitch slurs as she hangs off my arm. “I love yurr mask, so scurry!”
I shrug her off my arm, annoyed that the first female touch I’ve received tonight isn’t from my girl.
My little nightmare.
I turn my attention back to the small punch table while the sloppy drunk girl stumbles away searching for someone else to bother, but when I lay eyes on my girl, she isn’t alone.
Some dude in a pumpkin mask is with her, and he has his arm wrapped around her waist. He has her pulled into his chest as he whispers something into her ear.
Jonah.
My blood boils beneath my skin, my heart beating like a Ferrari engine in an F1 race. She smiles at whatever bullshit he’s feeding to her before he backs up, taking her hand in his as he leads her away from the table and through a large crowd of people. He pulls her up a lengthy staircase at the front of the house, and I follow closely behind them, keeping myself hidden and avoiding the flashing disco lights as I make my way up the staircase.
Reaching the top, they turn right, and for a brief moment, she’s out of my sight, but not for long. I take the stairs two at a time, the party’s music growing more faint the closer I get to the second floor. Finally, a break for my eardrums. I round the corner just in time to see them fade into a room at the end of the hall.
What the fuck?
I stalk down the hall like a man on a mission, and when I reach the wood door, I find they didn’t even close it all the way.
Perfect.
Peeking through the crack, it appears to be a guest room with simple nightstands and a large bed against the only wall I can see through the tiny crack. They stop beside the bed, and my girl’s perky little tits bounce as the bastard slams her back against the wall. My mouth waters at the sight of her- so goddamn delicious.
My eyes fixate on the swell of her breasts tucked tightly into the white corset top she wore for me tonight. My hands ache to touch them, to free them from the confinement of the white threads and take them into my mouth, roughly sinking my teeth into her plump flesh and marking her for everyone else to see.
My thoughts have my cock hardening until Jonah, because he wasn’t annoying enough, brings himself in front of her, blocking my view like he was born to be a fucking cockblock.
But it’s when his lips crash into hers that all the pleasant thoughts of my girl and her tits vanish, replaced by a burning need to burst through the door and take what’s mine.
