Page 44 of Cyber Revenge

“You wanted this, little killer,” he hisses.

I nod, mouth open in a sob of pleasure.

“Icravethis.”

He fucks me through orgasm after orgasm. My body seizing, shaking, begging. I’m crying by the next one, sensitive, raw, overwhelmed. Tears roll down my face.

He doesn’t stop.

Not until I beg him to.

Not until I say, “Trip, I can’t, I can’t.”

Then he comes.

Roaring.

Spilling inside me like he’s never letting go.

When I wake up in the old dilapidated building, he’s holding me.

His mask is back on.

My blood is on his tongue.

And for the first time in my life… I feel safe.

TWENTY

TRIP

She started leaving me notes.

Little things, taped to the glass, tucked between bricks, folded into her fence like secrets.

“I know it’s you.”

“Still watching?”

Some came with lingerie.

One came with frosting.

She knew I was there. She wanted me there.

And I broke every personal rule I’d made when this started.

I kept the notes.

The panties.

The photo she left with her lipstick print on the edge.

I didn’t keep the cupcake, though.

I smeared the frosting on her window to watch her gasp the next morning.

I’ve been obsessed for a long time. Long before Call of Duty. Long before Patrick. Long before she knew my name.

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