Chapter 10 Serena
“That’s perfect. Thank you.” I smile down at Miles, one of our two new hires who started last week. “You can head out if you want. I can finish this up quickly. I know you have plans with your family.”
His eyes light up. “Are you sure?”
I grin. “Of course. Get out of here. Have a good night.”
He beams with excitement. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome.” I smile.
He deserves it. He’s been working so hard. I want to keep the morale high around here, and showing the people who work for you that you care about them, their interests, and needs is the easiest way.
Miles Everett is our new social media manager, client relations, and event planner assistant. Julia Riley handles our administration side of things, including phone calls, inquiries, customer service, applications, and more.
Seeing how busy these two are makes me realize just how much Kerrigan and I were taking on alone. It’s going to take a while to get them fully trained, but they’ve already been such amazing help and additions to the team.
Miles quickly grabs his coat and belongings, and he heads out of the door, leaving me alone in the office, as Kerrigan and Julia have already left for the day.
My phone chimes almost immediately, and I know that it’s him. He’s probably been watching me, waiting for me to be all alone.
My Masked Valentine: We’re alone at last
I am but you’re not here
My Masked Valentine: Not by choice. Trust me
My Masked Valentine: There’s nowhere I’d rather be right now
You travel a lot for work, huh?
My Masked Valentine: Yeah sometimes. The schedule can be a bit hectic
And you can’t say no to some trips?
My Masked Valentine: Not unless there’s health reasons, family emergencies, or I want to lose my job
Does missing me count as a health reason?
My Masked Valentine: You’d think the way it makes my heart feel, it’d qualify
All my work responsibilities disappear from my mind. But none of it is urgent or has to get done right away. I’ll finish the newsletter Miles was working on when I get home tonight.
Swiping out of our messages, I open my car app and start it before going to text him back.
You’re so down bad
My Masked Valentine: You’re right. I’d love to go down so badly
His play on words makes my cheeks burn. I’ve only had a guy go down on me once, and honestly, it wasn’t the best, but I have a feeling that he can make anything my new favorite thing.
Oh really?
My Masked Valentine: You have no idea the things I want to do to you, with you, for you …
Tell me more
My Masked Valentine: How about we make it interesting? Two truths and a lie. Two truths are fantasies you want to try. One lie is a boundary you don’t want to cross, or a kink you don't want to try.
My fingers start typing before I can stop myself, pouring my desires into our texts. He makes me feel so comfortable and free to explore anything. Bravery helps me hit Send.
1. I want you to hunt me, catch me, and … you know the rest
2. Hide in my house, scare me, and … take me
I wish I could see his reaction or at least hear him because I have a feeling that I’m driving him wild right now. It’s only fair given that he does the same to me.
I rack my brain for a boundary, something I wouldn’t want to try, but I come up short. I don’t know that there’s anything I wouldn’t want to at least discuss exploring with him. A thought pops into my mind as I recall a quote from a romance book and movie that inspires my response.
I want you to fist me vaginally or anally
While some people might enjoy that, I don’t think that I’m one of them and even the thought of trying it is horrifying.
But aside from that, I honestly don’t know any other boundary I wouldn’t be open to.
Maybe I’m not experienced or educated enough in this department to know what I would and wouldn't try.
Text bubbles appear. Disappear. Appear. Disappear. Appear. Over and over.
My Masked Valentine: This game will never work. I can tell by how long that took you to respond, and by the phrasing alone that the third response is your hard line isn’t your fantasy. Got it. To be honest, my cock is way too selfish to ever let my hand have the fun.
Goddamn, this man really can read me like a book.
He assures me first that my lie is fully acceptable and respected before letting himself enjoy the first two messages I sent. I take back what I thought about hearing or seeing him. I’m watching him freak out firsthand as his messages come through, a second apart from one another.
My Masked Valentine: I am going to have so much fun fulfilling your fantasies.
My Masked Valentine: You want me to chase you and fuck you? Done.
My Masked Valentine: You want me to scare you, take control, pin you to the bed, and render you helpless as I fuck you into oblivion? I think I might propose soon
His reaction calms my heart for some reason. I think part of me was scared this confession would frighten him. I mean, I did come out swinging telling him to chase me and take me.
But I feel comfortable saying these things to him, and I mean them wholeheartedly.
I’ve never let myself fully imagine what I would want, but deep down, I know the darker things I crave.
It’s evident in the type of porn I’ve gravitated toward in the past—the intruder who takes what they want and taboo categories that I’ll take to the grave with me.
They’ve always intrigued me, but I’ve never had someone open to exploring those parts of my desires before, not until him.
My wants were always dismissed, tossed aside like they didn’t matter as much as my partners. At some point, I even believed that. But I was wrong and so were they. Which is why I dumped them in the first place, knowing that I deserved better.
I know this relationship is a bit unorthodox, but in a way, I’ve never felt safer or more seen and understood. He knows me, every habit, hobby, and secret. He doesn’t expect anything back. He gives selflessly, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.
If he’s going out of his way to help me explore my sexual desires, I want to do the same for him.
What’s one of your fantasies?
He hesitates, seemingly contemplating his response, and then an image comes through. It takes me a moment to process what I’m looking at.
It’s a photo from some kind of security camera. It’s familiar and—
Oh my God …
I’m staring at a picture of my office, of me at my desk right now. He’s watching me. His cameras don’t just exist in my house; he’s infiltrated my work too.
My heart pounds in my chest. I can’t believe he hid them here. I mean, I can, given that he hid them in my bedroom and probably every inch of the rest of my home—I’m fairly certain of that now.
I’m too calm, too okay with knowing that he’s watching me right now.
But in a weird way, it brings me peace of mind, knowing he’s looking over me.
He won’t hurt me—I truly believe that—and as long as he’s my guardian angel, I have a feeling that anyone who tried to bring me harm would be quickly met with his wrath.
My Masked Valentine: Turn to the camera
Please tell me why my core pulses when I read that message. Four simple words, but ones with an incredibly intense implication. By obeying, I’ll put him fully in charge. My compliance will show that I’m okay with the cameras, okay with him watching me here, okay with his possession.
The truth? I am okay with it—probably too much. And it terrifies me how easily I am handing my heart and trust over to my stalker.
Doing as he said, I turn my swivel chair toward the direction of the camera, based on the photo he took.
My Masked Valentine: Open your legs
My skin is electric, my heart hammering out of my chest. I swallow hard and take a shaky breath.
Why is this so exhilarating? Why am I already wet for him from his mere texts? God, my need for him is pathetic.
Slowly, I open my legs, my skirt riding up on my thighs. I swear he might be able to see my heartbeat visibly thumping in the side of my neck as I glance up toward where the camera should be. But I don’t see anything. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Another text comes through, and I jump at the chime.
My Masked Valentine: Such a good girl. Fuck. I wish I were there … I’d reward you with my tongue
My Masked Valentine: Unlock your desk. Second drawer. Beneath the files.
My brow furrows as I read his previous message.
What?
Spinning back to my desk, I grab my keys and unlock it, opening the second drawer, like he said. Did he put something in here? I wouldn’t be surprised, just shocked I haven’t come across it by accident.
Pushing all the files to the side, I gasp, finding a little black box at the bottom.
My phone chimes as I lift it out of the drawer and shut it, repositioning myself toward the hidden camera.
My Masked Valentine: Take it out. Turn it on. Put it in.
My Masked Valentine: I’m in control
My lips part as I lift the lid and see what’s waiting inside. A toy—a wearable hot-pink vibrator—set in a satin-lined box.
Take it out. Turn it on. Put it in.
He wants me to put it in right now?
A wave of heat rolls through my body.
Why is this the hottest thing I’ve ever done?
It’s not too big, so I don’t need to work up to it with my fingers, stretching my core. Although I doubt that’d be a problem, given how turned on I am right now.
My Masked Valentine: Suck on it, get it wet
Fucking hell, I would walk off a cliff if he commanded me to do so. I’m a soaking mess when it comes to him, happy to be his good girl.
Setting the box on the desk, I lift the toy, my eyes flicking up in the direction of the camera. I hold the power button, and a light beneath the silicone glows softly to life.
Slowly, I part my lips and suck the silicone into my mouth. There’s a slight plastic taste, but I don’t care. I coat the length in spit.