Chapter 16 Vane
VANE
Ilean back in my office chair, eyes fixed on the laptop screen displaying the live feed from Lia's apartment. The cameras I'd installed provide perfect angles of every room. My wildflower has no idea I'm watching her most intimate moments.
“Couldn't wait, could you?” I murmur, unbuckling my belt as I watch Lia storm into her bedroom.
She tosses the black envelope onto her nightstand without opening it. Her hands shake as she yanks off her heels, unzips her dress, and lets it pool at her feet. The black bra underneath makes my cock throb painfully, but even more so when I see she hadn't been wearing any panties.
I free myself, wrapping my hand around my length as Lia climbs onto her bed. She reaches into her nightstand drawer and pulls out a sleek black dildo. My eyes narrow.
“That's it, wildflower. Show me what you've been doing while you were running from me.”
Lia spreads her legs, sliding the toy between her thighs. Her head falls back against the pillows, lips parting on a silent gasp as she pushes it inside. My hand moves in rhythm with hers, matching her pace.
She's thinking about me. It’s obvious that after seeing me, she can’t wait to stuff her greedy cunt with something.
“You can run to New York,” I growl, stroking harder as her movements become more frantic on screen. “You can pretend you don't want this. But I know the truth.”
My thumb circles over the head of my cock, spreading the wetness gathered there. On screen, Lia's hips buck upward, her movements growing desperate. I synchronize my strokes with the thrust of her toy, imagining it's me inside her.
The Hunt will make her mine again. Not just for a night like after prom, but forever. This time, I won't let her escape.
My eyes widen as Lia groans in frustration, tossing the black dildo aside. Her chest heaves with each breath, nipples hard and begging for my mouth. She's not done—nowhere close. My wildflower reaches back into the drawer, pulling out something larger that makes my cock twitch in anticipation.
“Fuck yes,” I hiss, stroking myself slower, wanting to savor this moment.
It's a thick, realistic dildo with a suction cup base. Bigger than the first toy. Bigger than me, even. Jealousy and arousal war inside me as Lia slides off the bed and onto the floor. She wets the toy with her mouth—Christ—before placing it on the hardwood and securing it with a firm press.
“That's right, wildflower. Get it nice and ready for you,” I growl, my voice rough even to my own ears.
Lia positions herself above the toy, her back to the camera as she slowly sinks down. Her head falls back, spine arching as she takes it inch by inch. The view of her ass descending onto the thick shaft has me gripping myself harder, pre-cum slicking my palm.
“Ride that cock for me,” I command the screen, as if she could hear me.
She starts to move, lifting up and sinking down in a rhythm that has me transfixed. Her hands reach behind to steady herself on the floor, changing the angle, taking it deeper.
Then I hear it. Barely audible through the speakers, but unmistakable.
“Vane...”
My heart stops, then races double-time. She's thinking of me. Fifteen years, and she's still fucking imagining me inside her.
“Vane,” she moans louder, bouncing faster. “God, you feel too good.”
“Goddamn right I do,” I snarl, matching my strokes to her movements. “That's my pussy you're fucking, wildflower. Mine.”
Her pace quickens, desperate little sounds escaping her throat. I can see her thighs trembling with the effort, her rhythm growing erratic. She's close—we both are.
I stroke myself furiously as Lia rides that thick silicone cock, her breathless moans of my name driving me wild. My body tightens, pressure building at the base of my spine as I watch her movements grow desperate and erratic.
“That's it, wildflower. Come for me,” I growl, my hand a blur on my cock.
As if she hears me through the screen, Lia's back arches sharply.
She cries out—a broken, desperate sound—as her body shudders.
The sight of her coming undone pushes me over the edge.
My release hits me like a freight train, thick ropes of cum shooting onto my stomach as I groan through clenched teeth.
“Fuck, Lia...” I pant.
The office door bangs open without warning.
“Yo, Vane! There's some seriously—holy shit!”
Knox freezes in the doorway, blue eyes widening before a shit-eating grin spreads across his face. I scramble to zip myself up, slamming my laptop closed in the same motion.
“Seriously?” Knox laughs, sauntering into my office like he owns the place. “We've got half-naked women dancing in the club, and you're in here jerking off to porn?”
“Get the fuck out,” I snarl, wiping my stomach with tissues from my desk drawer.
Knox ignores me, trying to peek at my laptop. “What were you watching anyway? Must be good shit to have you hiding here like a teenager.”
I stand, putting myself between him and the computer. “None of your fucking business.”
“Ooooh, secretive.” He waggles his eyebrows. “Is it weird stuff? Like, midget clown porn or something?”
“I swear to God, Knox—”
“Fine, fine.” He backs up, hands raised in mock surrender. “But seriously, you're missing some prime entertainment. There are these twin dancers from Vegas, and they do this thing where they—”
“I'll be down in five minutes,” I cut him off. “Now get out.”
Knox finally leaves, my heart still hammering against my ribs. Fucking little brother—always with the worst timing. Taking several deep breaths, I clean myself up and adjust my clothing, then return to my laptop.
The camera feed shows Lia's empty bedroom. For a moment, panic seizes me—did I miss something? Did she leave?—until I notice the bathroom light spilling into the frame.
I switch to the bathroom camera feed.
My wildflower stands naked at the sink, running warm water over her toy. Her skin glows with a light sheen of sweat, her hair mussed from the activity.
“Look at you,” I whisper, leaning closer to the screen. “Trying so hard to pretend you don’t want me and then fucking a dildo while thinking about me.”
When she's satisfied with the toy, she sets it aside and turns the water warmer, wetting a washcloth to clean between her thighs.
My cock stirs again despite my recent release. I've never felt this out of control with anyone but her. Years of obsession, and she still reduces me to a desperate teenager with the simple memory of her taste.
The way she called my name while fucking herself—that wasn't pretend. That was honest need.
“You can lie to yourself all you want, wildflower,” I murmur, watching as she pats herself dry. “But your body remembers who it belongs to.”
The evidence is right there on my screen. She might run, she might hide, she might even convince herself she hates me. But when she's alone in the dark, it's my name on her lips, my cock she imagines inside her.
The Hunt is just a formality at this point. She's already mine—has been since that night after prom. She just needs a reminder of what we both already know.