Chapter One
Tyson
“Fuck… ah, fuck.”
This feels so good. Setting my nerve ending aflame to the point that once I finish, there’ll be only ashes of my being left.
I grip my cock harder, stroking violently with my focus wholly fixated on the object of my obsession.
The pale soft skin that has never been marked by another’s hands.
Silky brown curls that no one had wrapped around their fist.
Plum pink lips that have never been kissed.
Not yet.
Soon, I will have her all to myself.
No need to be lurking in the darkness, watching from the shadows.
I’ve been biding my time, carefully learning every single detail about her life while awaiting my opportunity.
And it has finally come.
My revenge.
I can’t wait for how her tiny frame will convulse under the force of my cock ramming into her, fucking her raw as she takes all of me.
Pleasure rushes through my body at the image of her writhing beneath me and I fist my shaft harder at the thought of how tight she’s going to grip me.
My little princess fucking made for me.
Hips stuttering, I come with a rough groan piercing the silent night, spilling all over my palm and throbbing dick.
It has barely taken the edge off.
After tucking myself back in, I make my way down from the neighbor’s roof that I’ve been conveniently using for the last two years to watch her.
An outpost high enough to see everything.
By a stroke of blind luck, the house happens to be occupied by an elderly couple, both of them half senile.
Meaning I don’t have to be overly careful about making any noise on my nightly endeavors.
This spot provides the perfect view of her window as well as the northern side of the house, including the backyard where she tends to her flowers for hours on end.
My obsession doesn’t leave her room often, just like a princess locked in a castle tower.
Like the innocent, little girl everyone believes her to be.
But I know better.
I know that deep down there’s darkness lurking within her, waiting to be set free.
And I’ll gladly oblige. Who am I to deny myself what’s so clearly calling out to me, begging me to be conquered.
After spending most of my waking hours up here, partially hidden by a nearby tree, unmoving as to not attract unwanted attention, it’s about time to take what’s mine.
I’m good at what I do. Very good in fact.
Going undetected being just one facet of my particular set of skills that I’ve acquired over the years.
Yet the only time I break my rules, relent in my militant approach to the job is to jerk off to my princess when she’s being especially irresistible.
Like now. She’s sleeping peacefully on her side, one leg flung over the covers, showing off the slender limb and ass in those deliciously short sleep shorts trimmed with lace.
Right there, ripe and ready for me to take.
She might not know who she belongs to yet, but she will find out soon enough.
The hard way.
Despite not holding a grudge against her specifically, this girl is coming with me.
In the beginning, she was just a means to an end, a pawn to be used for my ultimate vengeance.
But over time, what used to be a mere fixation turned into more. She has become the object of my deepest desires.
My all-consuming obsession.
By the way, I’m fully aware of how messed up that sounds but who truly gives a fuck about morals anymore.
The people who preach them are most often the ones breaking them in the first place.
So who are they to be telling me what’s right or wrong. I’ve seen enough in my life to know that I’m the only one who gets to decide.
Besides, it’s not like this new development will distract me from my initial plans.
I was going to take her all along so this little personal obsession with her every step, her every fucking breath shouldn’t interfere with the end goal on my part.
Hidden by the darkness of the night, I walk up straight to the front door without a single soul noticing.
The street is entirely empty with no one in sight, illuminated by the few lanterns placed in even intervals along the sidewalk, giving it an abandoned feeling.
Good thing I’m more than used to working in the dead of the night. I live in the darkness, feeling at home in the pitch-black.
The house couldn’t be less her.
A typical, cold upper-class home with white trimmed window frames and no personality at all. Accompanied by a perfectly manicured lawn in the most respectable part of San Francisco.
Nonetheless, this neighborhood is perfectly suited for my purposes. Quiet with most of its elderly residents already fast asleep, unperturbed by my presence.
Just in case, a black balaclava covers the entirety of my face to avoid any security cameras I haven’t yet disabled.
It’s just a precaution though.
If I’m doing something, I do it thoroughly. Leaving no trace behind.
Like dismantling the lock on the front door in a matter of seconds. Letting it close silently behind me, I’m engulfed in the total darkness of the house. There’s no need for night vision goggles though.
I know the layout by heart, calculated every step a hundred times over.
So, first things first, I head straight towards the master bedroom.
Her mother’s room.
After the initial part of my plan has gone over smoothly, I finally reach her door on the second floor, ever so slowly pushing down the handle.
It opens without a sound, making me internally praise whoever maintains the hinges around here as I step inside.
Straight away, I’m hit with the sweet smell of vanilla blending with an undertone of oil paints.
The room is cozy, decorated in earthy tones and filled to the brim with her plants and endless stacks of books.
In the far corner near the French doors that used to offer me the perfect view of her unsuspecting being, a giant easel is set up with painting supplies splayed all over, canvasses propped up against the wall.
However, none of it draws my attention like the cream-colored canopy bed. Fit for a princess.
And curled up in the midst of it is her .
Malory Hayes.
My obsession.
The center of my existence and the ultimate triumph card in my long-awaited revenge.
Her porcelain skin glowing under the moonlight that’s streaming in through the sheer curtains.
Fuck.
She’s so small and dainty that Ifeel like Icould crush her by merely breathing in her direction.
So delicately gorgeous and so fucking vulnerable.
She looks even more innocent asleep, with her pink, pouty lips slightly parted, waiting to be claimed by me and only me.
Instantly, I feel myself getting hard all over again at the breathtaking sight.
Her chest rising with shallow breaths that are making her tank top tighten around her perky breasts with every inhale.
She’s not wearing a bra, letting me see her little nipples peeking through the thin fabric.
Fisting my hands, I grind my teeth to the point they threaten to shatter.
I’m not someone who feels these types of urges, who feels anything at all really. Much less gives into it.
But not being able to touch her these past months has been eating me alive and no amount of jerking off to the image of her lithe body and big eyes has made the suffocating tightness in my chest relent.
I’ve been imagining this moment for a long ass time, but not one of the thousands of scenarios I constructed in my mind comes even close to the real thing.
The need to touch her, to make sure she’s truly in front of me is overwhelming.
Reaching out, the side of the bed dips under my weight as I lean over her tiny frame, gently stroking her cheek.
It’s the softest thing I’ve ever felt.
A zap of electricity shooting up my arm and through my whole body at the intimate contact.
Yearning for more, I swipe the pad of my thumb over her bottom lip, marveling at its smoothness.
Suddenly, Malory tenses beneath my touch, her eyes flying open.
Deep vibrant green.
Like pine trees and sparking dark emeralds.
I’m completely lost in the depth of them, staring up at me brimming with emotion.
Fear.
I used to know it well.
Looking into those huge eyes filled with it, the familiarity of the feeling I buried a long time ago, it’s like coming home.
But there’s also something else.
Something I can’t quite place.
Only when I feel her trembling violently under me do I snap out of my stupor as the realization hits me.
She’s finally mine.