Page 24 of Lost to the Woods

Texts throughout the day and calls in the evening. It was easy. Effortless. We were friends for so long that we didn’t need any awkward questions like what our favorite color was. I knew her interests, her schedule, her habits.

Sexting happened organically. She excelled at that. She was way more forward behind the screen, and she loved to drive me to the edge of my sanity. The first time she sent me a photo, I stared at it for ten straight minutes before I could breathe again—because this one was meant formeand my eyesonly.

My phone quickly got filled with half-naked selfies of her. And it was also fun getting to know each other from this side. I learned what she liked in bed before I even had her there. She was much more vanilla than one would think—or at least that’s what she believed. I could read right through her coyness. I knew she could be a total freak with the right partner. She needed a firm hand. Although I might have scared her a little with my kinks. I didn’t push—not yet. But she asked questions. Curious, innocent questions that told me exactly where her boundaries would bend.

Fuck, how much I wanted her.

It was fast. Intense. All-consuming.

And I was completely enamored of her.

Long-distance was a fucking pain in the ass, but I made it work. For her. She wanted this, I knew she did. I had her attention, her voice, her body in pixels—but I didn’t have her. Not in the way I needed.

Then, one night, we took it even further…

8. Ghost

Bunny’s text came through just past midnight, East Coast time, like it always did. I was already staring at my phone, waiting, while taking a break from streaming.

“Wearing your shirt and those stockings you like…”

Fuck.

I hadn’t expectedthat.

My fingers tightened around the phone, heat licking up my spine as my brain short-circuited with a hundred images at once. Her small body draped in my shirt, her thighs wrapped in those soft cotton stockings, probably biting her lip and squirming while she typed. The thought of her so far away—alone, wet, teasing me—made something primal unravel in my chest.

I didn’t even bother typing back. I put on my mask and hit FaceTime before I could think twice. I needed her face. I needed her voice. I needed to know she was mine tonight—even if it was only through the screen.

She picked up immediately. Her voice came through soft, breathy. “Hey, you!” She giggled at my enthusiasm.

The screen lit up with her beautiful face. The bedroom was dimly lit with pink LED lights framing the ceiling, snow falling slowly behind the window. She was curled up in her bed, her long hair spilled over one shoulder, slightly messy but still looking like silk. Her lips were parted and swollen, eyes flickering to mine like she couldn’t decide whether to be shy or seductive.

Dangerous combination.

“You said you’re wearing my shirt,” I murmured, my voice dropping automatically into that slow, commanding register that always made her breath hitch. “Show me.”

She smiled, cheeks pink as she angled the camera down.

My shirt hung on her like a damn dress, worn down cotton falling to mid-thigh. But it was the way she moved—legs shifting just enough to give me a peek at the curve of her ass, the lace of her panties barely visible beneath the hem—that sent blood surging straight to my cock.

And those stockings. White with pink stripes, pure softness hugging her skin, ending on her upper thighs where her bow tattoos were. They made her look even more breakable. Like she needed to be held down and devoured.

“I like sleeping in it,” she said quietly. “Still smells like you. I don’t wanna wash it.”

God.

My cock throbbed against my sweats. I adjusted the camera so she could see me leaning back in my gaming chair—shirtless, inked chest rising and falling with each slow breath, muscles flexing as I propped the phone on my knee. The white mask covered my face, smooth and unreadable, the black balaclava framing the bottom half and falling over my neck. She couldn’t see the hunger in my expression—but she didn’t need to.

“Do you like the view?” she asked with a coy smile.

“Like it?” I laughed without humor. “You wanna know what that does to me, baby?” I tilted the camera lower, giving her the full display.

Her breath caught as the screen filled with the outline of my cock straining beneath my grey sweats.

“That’s how much I like them. You’re all the way across the country, and still you have me hard in seconds.”

“Ghost…” she whispered, voice shaky. Her thighs pressed together as she squirmed, loving the sound of that.