Chapter Twenty #2
Naked and desperate for my attention, putting on a show because you know it drives me insane. I can still taste you on this blade.
Her sharp intake of breath was audible through the audio feed. She sat up straighter, eyes widening with recognition and arousal.
Isla
The knife?
Adrian
The same one that made you scream my name under the stars.
I dragged the dull edge of the blade along the length of my cock, still wrapped in her ruined panties.
The cool metal against heated skin, the memory of where it had been, the exquisite edge of pain—it was enough to make my vision blur.
I hissed through gritted teeth, forcing myself to go slower, to savor this torture.
The knife had claimed her, and now it was marking me, binding us together in ways that went deeper than skin.
She moved, rising to her knees on the bed, back arched, hands sliding over her skin. Every movement was calculated seduction, and she knew exactly what she was doing to me.
Adrian
Spread your legs. Let me see that pussy dripping for me.
She had to know the request was coming.
I dragged the knife along my shaft again, harder this time, the metal warming from my skin.
The pain mixed with pleasure until I couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.
Just like with her. She was my heaven and my hell, my salvation and my damnation.
Isla
What’s in it for me ?
I grinned.
Adrian
Dinner and compliments.
She obeyed, parting her thighs to reveal the glistening evidence of her need.
I drank in the sight of her—pink and swollen and absolutely soaked for me.
Her pussy was a work of art, delicate folds glistening with arousal, the light from her window catching every drop of moisture that betrayed how much she wanted me.
The soft, rose-tinted lips were parted slightly, and I could see how desperate she was to be filled.
She was perfect, every fucking inch of her.
Her inner thighs trembled slightly, the subtle arch of her hips that pushed her heat forward like an offering—it was better than any artpiece I'd ever seen.
Her clit was swollen, peeking out from its hood, practically begging for my tongue, my fingers, my attention.
Adrian
Such a dirty girl. That pretty pussy is practically weeping for my cock, isn't it?
Isla
Adrian…
Adrian
I know, angel. I can see how much you need it. Your pussy's so swollen, so needy.
Those pink lips are just begging to be kissed, aren't they? And that little clit… I want to suck on it until you scream.
The knife trembled against my shaft as I fought to maintain control.
The sight of her spread open for me, vulnerable and trusting, and absolutely drenched with need, was almost enough to make me come right then and there.
Adrian
You have the most beautiful pussy, Isla. So tight, so made just for me. I can practically taste how sweet you are from here.
Isla
So what’s my dinner? I’m starving.
I laughed at the subject change—my angel got overwhelmed by her own desire and needed a distraction.
Adrian
What do you want, pretty girl? Name it.
Isla
Italian. Something decadent.
My fingers flew over the delivery app on my phone while never stopping the slow drag of the knife against my cock.
Adrian
How’s this?
I sent her a screenshot of the order I compiled—garlic bread, three different pastas, fried cheese, calamari, salad, and enough tiramisu to put her into a food coma.
Isla
That’s insane. That’s like… a feast for ten people.
Adrian
And you’ve earned every bite. I want you fed like angels deserve.
The order confirmation pinged on my phone—forty minutes for delivery. Perfect timing.
Adrian
Food's on the way. Now, while we wait...
Touch yourself. Let me watch you play with that pretty pussy.
Isla
Are you still using the knife?
My perfect little sadist. I dragged the blade along my shaft again, harder this time, the cool metal sending a delicious sting through my system.
Adrian
Yes, angel. But first, reach into that nightstand. The bottom drawer. You know what I want.
I watched her eyes widen with realization and embarrassment. She knew I'd snooped around her apartment, especially to install the cameras, but now she was learning how thoroughly I’d explored.
Adrian
I know everything. Now fuck yourself with it while I imagine it’s my cock splitting you open.
Her cheeks flushed that perfect pink as she reached into the drawer, pulling out a pink dildo. It was pathetically small compared to what I'd give her, but it would do for now.
Adrian
Good girl. Spread those legs wider. I want to see everything.
She obeyed, parting her thighs to give me another perfect view of her glistening pussy.
The sight made my grip tighten on the knife, dragging it harder along my shaft wrapped in her ruined panties.
Adrian
You’re so wet, so ready. That tight little pussy is begging to be filled, isn't it?
Isla
Yes, yes, yes.
Adrian
Take it. Slowly. I want to watch every inch disappear inside you.
She pressed the toy against her hole, teasing herself with just the tip.
I could see her body clenching, trying to draw it deeper, but she held back, waiting for my command.
Adrian
Now push it in, all the way. Imagine it's me claiming that pussy.
A breathy moan escaped her as she slid the dildo inside, her back arching off the bed.
The sight of her filled, even with something so inadequate, made me nearly moan against the knife’s edge.
Adrian
That's it. Now fuck yourself with it. Show me how much you want my cock.
She began moving the toy in and out, her hips rolling to meet each thrust.
The wet sounds of her arousal filled my speakers, mixing with her increasingly desperate moans.
Adrian
Faster. I want to hear how soaked that pussy is.
The knife burned against my skin as I pressed it harder, using the pain to keep from coming too quickly.
I wanted to watch her fall apart first, wanted to see her come, knowing I was watching her every move.
Isla moved the toy faster, her movements becoming desperate, needy. The wet sounds from her cunt filled my speakers, each slick noise sending fire straight through my veins.
I dropped the jade knife with a sharp clatter, my hand immediately wrapping around my cock, using the fabric of her stolen panties as a slick sheath.
Isla was lost in sensation—head thrown back, blonde hair spilling across the pillows, her free hand eagerly rubbing her clit as she fucked herself with increasing desperation.
The dildo disappeared and reappeared between her swollen lips, glistening with her arousal.
My strokes matched her rhythm, faster now, the silk sliding effortlessly over my heated flesh.
I could see her thighs trembling, the way her pussy clenched around the toy, trying to pull it deeper.
The sight of her touching herself, knowing she was performing for me, getting off on being watched, pushed me dangerously close to the edge.
My grip tightened, my cock aching with pent-up need.
Adrian
Come for me, angel. Come while I watch. Let me see you fall apart.
Her back arched off the bed, mouth falling open in a silent scream as her orgasm washed over her.
I watched every tremor, every clench of her walls around the dildo, the way her body went rigid with pleasure before dissolving into gentle aftershocks.
The sight of her climax, the sound of my name torn from her lips, shattered my control.
I came with a roar that echoed through my living room, hot release painting the lace of her panties as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over me.
My vision blurred, but my eyes never left the screen, never stopped watching her beautiful destruction.
For several moments, we just breathed together across the digital divide, both of us spent and trembling.
Adrian
Such a good girl. The prettiest fucking girl.
Isla
I can't wait to feel the real thing.
I grinned, tucking myself away and carefully folding the now-used panties onto my desk.
On my monitors, Isla was stretching like a satisfied cat, the blue nightgown finally sliding on and over her curves.
My phone buzzed on the desk—the food delivery confirmation. Perfect timing.
I called her directly, wanting to keep her grounded through her softening emotions.
She answered on the first ring, her voice still breathless and sleepy from our digital encounter.
"Evening, angel," I purred into the phone, watching her face light up on the surveillance feed as she heard my voice.
"Adrian," she sighed, curling deeper into her pillows. "That was... intense."
"Just a preview of what's coming," I promised, pulling up Noah's LinkedIn profile on monitor three while keeping her camera feed centered.
"Speaking of, your feast should be arriving any minute.”
"You actually ordered all that food?" She laughed, the sound like silver bells in my dark room. "I'm going to pop.”
"That's the plan. I want you so full and satisfied you can barely move."
I began typing, crafting the first code that would begin Noah's systematic destruction. "Then when I get my hands on you, you'll be soft and pliant and perfectly mine."
The doorbell rang through her audio feed, and I watched her scramble up, phone pressed to her ear.
"Holy cow,” she breathed as the delivery driver handed over bag after bag of Italian delicacies. "Adrian, this is insane. There's enough food here for a week."
"Eat every bite," I commanded, sending Noah's bank alert while she spread the feast across her coffee table. "Starting with the garlic bread. I want to hear you moan for it."
She giggled as she bit into the bread, the sound making my chest tight with something that felt dangerously close to love.
"You're ridiculous. Watching me eat now?"
"Watching you do everything," I confirmed, pulling up Noah's work email and planting the first seeds of professional ruin. "You look gorgeous with my offerings."
On screen, she twirled carbonara around her fork, sipping her drink. The sight was oddly erotic—my angel, debauched by Italian cuisine instead of my cock, but debauched nonetheless.
"Tell me a story while I eat," she requested around a mouthful of delicacy. "Something to keep me company."
I laughed, fingers flying across the keyboard as I drained Noah's checking account while spinning a tale for my sleepy angel.
"What kind of story does my satisfied girl want?"
"Something dark," she said, surprising me. "Like you. Something with monsters and princesses and... consequences."
My grin turned sharp as Noah's smart home security system fell under my control.
"Once upon a time," I began, my voice dropping to a storytelling cadence, "there was an angel who lived in a realm of light and art and beautiful things."
Isla made a soft sound of appreciation, both for the story and the fried mozzarella she was currently melting for.
"But this angel had a secret… She craved the darkness. She painted st orms and shadows and dreamed of creatures with sharp teeth and sharper desires."
I triggered Noah's thermostat to drop to twenty-five degrees, imagining his confusion when he got home.
"The angel was guarded by a knight who thought he understood her, but he was wrong. He tried to dim her light, to make her smaller, more manageable."
"I hate him already," Isla mumbled through a bite.
"Good, because so did the demon who'd been watching from the shadows."
I set up the delayed emails that would destroy Noah's professional reputation by morning.
"This demon collected souls and bones and the screams of those who dared touch what belonged to him. And when he saw the knight making his angel cry..."
I paused, watching Isla's rapt attention through the camera, her fork halfway to her mouth.
"The demon decided the knight would feed his hunger. First, he poisoned the knight's gold, making it turn to ash in his hands. Then he whispered nightmares into the knight's dreams, making his own armor turn against him."
I focused on Isla now. "Slowly, the demon dismantled everything the knight thought made him strong, until he was nothing but a shell of fear and madness."
“And then?" My angel asked breathlessly, staring down at a generous slice of tiramisu.
“And then the demon stepped out of the shadows," I finished, watching Noah's entire digital existence crumble in real-time across my monitors.
"And showed the knight what happens to those who touch what belongs to the darkness."
Isla shivered, though whether from the story or the way I told it, I couldn't be sure.
"And the angel? "
"The angel lived happily ever after in her demon's arms," I said softly, meaning every word. "Fed like royalty, protected like a treasure, and loved like the divine creature she was."
"I love your stories," she whispered, voice drowsy with food and satisfaction.
"I love watching you eat my food," I replied, taking a screenshot of her blissful expression. "You're my perfect angel.”
Isla somehow made it to her room, stomach full of my gifts, and quickly drifted off to sleep.
I continued my digital warfare against Noah.
By morning, he'd wake up to find his life in ruins—broke, professionally destroyed, socially isolated, and completely unaware of who had orchestrated his downfall.
"Sweet dreams, my angel," I whispered to her sleeping form on my monitor. "While I give your ex nightmares."