Page 39 of Cyber Revenge

Not fully.

Not all the way.

Just enough to let the shadows catch my silhouette.

I whisper his name when I come. Not Trip. Not his real name.

Protector.

Because that’s what he is.

And it turns me on more than anything ever has.

One night, I step outside after midnight in a see-through white tank and nothing underneath.

No bra. No panties. No shame.

I lean on the railing of the back deck, smoking my vape slowly, letting the smoke trail from my lips as my eyes scan the tree line.

“You gonna just keep watching forever?” I ask the dark.

A figure steps from the woods like he’s been carved from it.

Black mask. Combat boots. Tactical vest.

Paint-streaked pants. Broad. Beautiful. Dangerous.

He raises one gloved hand and points to the floorboards beneath me.

I drop to my knees at the edge of the deck, trembling.

I spread my legs.

No words. Just obedience.

And when he makes me come with just his talented leather-covered fingers in the open air…

When he pulls his cock out but keeps it just out of reach and won’t let me touch him…

Just spills himself across my chest with a low, desperate grunt…

I know I’m already his.

So I leave him a note the next night.

Take me on a date, coward.

The reply comes tucked into the fence post.

Tomorrow. Wear black. No bra.

He picks me up outside my house, dressed in camo and tactical gear.

“Ready to run, killstreak?” he asks.

I gasp. “Wait, is this the date?”

He doesn’t answer. Just throws me over his shoulder and carries me toward a matte-black truck.

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