16. Phantom Hunger
Phantom Hunger
Maddox
I watch Ari move around her bedroom from my place on the lower deck. Lucky for me, this vantage point gives me a pretty decent view into her bedroom. If I were at home, I’d have hidden cameras with a perfect three-hundred-sixty-degree high-resolution feed, capturing every flick of her fingers, every shift of her weight. The grainy, black-and-white security footage most people are familiar with? That’s amateur work. My setup is military-grade. Untraceable. A closed network that no one—not even the CIA—could breach.
Alas, I’m here, so I have to use my own two eyes.
I see her grab a towel, and knowing her routine at night, I know she’s going to take a shower.
I could have planted a small, portable camera in there. A simple, undetectable one, disguised in the LED lighting strip or inside the vent.
But I didn’t.
Because even I have lines I don’t cross.
Morality isn’t something I cling to, but privacy? That’s different.
After twenty years in a maximum-security hellhole, I know what it means to have your every movement watched, your dignity stripped away one humiliating inch at a time.
Some things you just don’t take from a person.
I exhale through my nose, rolling my shoulders, shaking off the memory.
I stare out into the dark abyss until movement in her window catches my eye.
Ari walks back into the bedroom, skin dewy from the shower, a small towel barely clinging to her curves.
Heat coils in my stomach, sharp and immediate. I’m already fucking hard, and I haven’t even touched her yet tonight.
Looking down, I give her sixty seconds to get dressed, and it’s the longest sixty seconds of my life.
The light in her bedroom turns off, so I stub out the joint I’m smoking and make my way back into the house. Knowing her, she’s reading on her Kindle, and I’m bored as fuck, so once I’m back in the bedroom I’m sleeping in, I log into her account from my phone.
A small perk of being one of the best cybersecurity specialists to ever exist.
My lips twitch into a smirk as I see what she’s reading.
“ Thirsty for the Terrible Monster ,” I say out loud.
A monsterfucker romance. I shake my head, amused, and immediately sync my page to hers.
Might as well read along, right?
I settle back in the bed, one hand idly resting against my thigh as I skim through the next few pages.
Then, I hit the line that changes everything.
“Bend over, mortal.”
I gasp as his large hand comes around my neck, claws digging into the sensitive skin just above my pulse point.
Thor’s tongue slithers out, and he bends down so that it flicks against my cheek, and I squirm as he tightens his grip around my neck.
“Wondering what my tongue can do, pet?”
“N-no,” I say quickly, trying to cover my growing arousal.
“I can smell your slick, and I want to taste it.”
Fuck.
Is she touching herself to this?
Is it bad that I want to know?
Quietly, I set my phone down and exit my bedroom. I’m barefoot, and, fortunately, all those years in the Corps taught me one thing— stealth. Walking up to her door, I twist the handle slowly, already knowing it’s not going to creak thanks to my technique.
The door opens just a crack, and I wait for my eyes to adjust. And when they do…
Ari shifts in bed, the glow of her Kindle lighting up her face and neck. Her eyes flicker across the page hungrily, legs pressing together.
Then—her hand slides beneath the sheets.
I inhale silently, my fingers clamping down on the frame of the door.
Is she?—
A soft moan slips from her lips. My cock jumps. Jesus Christ.
I can just make out the way her expression shifts, the subtle arch of her hips, the tension in her thighs.
She’s touching herself. To this. To claws, to monsters, to being devoured. The idea of someone taking control of her.
I don’t think, don’t hesitate. I reach down, lowering my sweatpants, and my aching cock springs free into my palm.
My pulse pounds at the base of my throat, my breathing silent as I stroke myself slowly. Her breathing picks up. Faster. Needier. It feels like we’re sharing this, even if she has no idea that I’m watching her.
I lick my palm, my hand wrapping around my shaft, twisting slightly as my hips rut forward.
I should be inside her.
I should be tasting her, making her come on my tongue until she’s sobbing, wrung dry, and desperate.
Instead, I’m here. Watching .
I tighten my grip, matching her pace, my strokes falling into perfect sync with the slow, needy rhythm of her fingers. My breath hitches when she bites her lip, her body tensing, her movements becoming more desperate. My own strokes speed up, sliding slick and rough over my aching length, feet lifting from the floor as the heat coiling in my gut pulses, sharp and unrelenting.
I can’t stop watching her. Can’t stop picturing how she’d look if I were the one between her legs instead—if it were my fingers, my mouth wringing those perfect little sounds from her throat.
My free hand dips into my pocket, fingers brushing over the scrap of lace I’d stolen earlier when she was downstairs.
Her panties.
I bring them to my nose, inhaling deep as I stroke faster, matching the way her breath catches, the way her thighs tremble, the way she’s falling apart for me without even knowing it.
Her body stiffens. Her back arches. Her head tilts back.
And when she moans—soft, needy, completely broken?—
I fucking lose it.
A silent groan vibrates in my chest. My body goes rigid, tension winding sharp and hot before it snaps—electric, uncontrollable, like a live wire. Hot spurts of cum coat my hand, my hips jerking up in desperate, uneven thrusts as her name slips from my lips in a reverent whisper.
Goddamn her.
She turns over and continues reading, facing away from me. I clean my cock and hand up with her panties before placing them back inside my pocket. Slowly, quietly, I walk down the hall back to my room. Once inside, I fall back onto my bed, my body still vibrating with tension. It’s not enough. Not even close. I should feel sated. I should be done for the night.
But I’m nowhere fucking close.
Because watching her isn’t enough.
I need to feel her. Breathe her in. Taste her.
I decide that I’m done watching her, because right now, all I want to do is consume her, body and soul.