Forty
Her Phantom
Saint
T onight, Liv was naked.
She had pulled her dress over her head and stripped off her thong. I had helped guide up the soft lace fabric over her beautiful thighs and snapped the elastic band over her shapely hips. She was a gorgeous vision after we took care of her in the wake of her many earth-shattering orgasms. A gentle gesture of affection was not our style, but our girl needed aftercare and we’d provide.
She had responded effortlessly to each one and barely fought us this time. Her body had grown used to our force, earning her a higher gratification after all of her resistance. But I saw a crack in our obsession today, and we were close to owning all of her.
Her scumbag of a fiancé was still in the hospital, and with him not in the picture, she was free. Unchained to let loose and sleep stripped of him with nothing on. We did this. Sin and I. We took away any fear she had, even if it was for a little while. But the damn bastard deserved a gruesome death.
I watched Liv as she climbed into her bed without a care in the world and pulled the sheets over her body. She hid those fucking magnificent curves from me but had no idea I was tucked away in her closet. Hidden behind all her expensive clothes while she’d rummaged through, never finding me. I wanted to pounce on her, but I refrained since I knew she’d be sore after we took care of her. She required a break from my raging cock, and I had other intentions for her.
Our girl needed rest. She had earned a break. But not for long.
I smirked as I thought about all the things I wanted to do to her, all the inches of her body I wanted to revisit. I wanted to pound into that sweet pink pussy, slap her plump ass, and watch the waves roll. Fuck. My dick was as hard as a damn rock. Thank God those bed sheets covered her or my balls might bust.
Her eyes were closed, and her hair sprawled out across her white pillow as I emerged from my hiding place with a gift. She was such a knockout even while she slept. Little pebbles peaked underneath the sheet, and I was far too tempted to touch. To graze her, hearing her moan and watching her eyes snap open in surprise until they turned to terror. Her fear excited me every damn time.
I grunted, but Liv stirred with her lips parting for only a second and her soft breath emitting a small sound into the air—almost the sound of a soft purr. She was my little feline, and I was her owner, who’d pet my pussy anytime I wanted.
Instead, I touched her hair, stroked the soft locks on her pillow and laid a present meant just for her. A gift from her phantoms, the men who followed her everywhere she went, even in her dreams as she slept.
“Not too much longer now, little obsession,” I whispered into the still air and creeped through her bedroom door, heading back out the way I came in.
Right through her front door.