Chapter 4 Stalker Syndrome
Stalker Syndrome
Iturn off the TV just before the Alpha Princess starts to sing. My phone rings, but I don’t answer it. I’m too angry to speak to anyone right now. How can she do this to me? How can she even entertain the idea of another man, a man who is not me? I have been patient. I gave her space and time.
I walk over to the cabinet in my room and open the double doors, revealing pictures of my beautiful princess. I pick up a bundle of her hair, tied together in a knot, raise it to my nose, and inhale the lingering scent of lavender and honey. It instantly hardens my cock.
My phone rings again, and I return my precious strands of hair back to their place. I graze my hand over the broken pieces of a golden mask, one she once wore performing as “G”.
“Soon, baby girl. I will have you soon, and once you’re mine, I will punish you for running away from me.
” I run my thumb over a picture of her crossing the street in the city.
I followed her for years, collecting her belongings—hair ties, panties, and earrings.
I strategically placed hidden cameras in her home.
I watched her every move. I watched her shower, masturbate, and fuck other men.
I gingerly close the doors to my cabinet and lock the door. For the third time, my phone rings, and I finally answer. “What the fuck do you want?!” I yell.
“I can’t keep calling you. I have time limits.”
“Not my fucking problem!”
“Stop being a baby. This is important. Get your head back in the game!”
I lean against the wall. “What the fuck do you think I’m doing?” Her voice annoys me. The way she speaks annoys me. Everything about her annoys me.
She hisses, “Everything is in order. All you have to do is win her heart, get her to mate you, and then kill the fucking bitch!”
I end the call and punch the wall, picturing her face.
These last couple weeks have been hell, dealing with my family, and I am not in the mood to listen to their shit.
I may not be as conniving as my sister, but I don’t need to be.
I have charm, wit, and intelligence. She’s the one in prison for life, and at twenty-seven, she will be there for a very long time.
As shifters, we can live until 200 years old. She was a miserable piece of shit anyway. She deserves to be in jail. Hell, she deserves the death penalty.
I can do this. I can win over the Alpha Princess, make her my mate, and convince her to turn over her business, pack, territory, and everything else she owns to me.
But I don’t want to kill her so soon. I didn’t waste years following her, loving her from afar, wanting her.
Fuck them. I will do this my way, maybe after we have a couple of pups.
Hmmm, that’s a great idea, and after she shits out the last one, maybe by then, I will tire of her.
I can blame her death on the birthing process. No one will suspect me.
I ball my hands into fists at my side. The truth is I don’t think I want her dead.
She is everything I ever wanted in a mate.
She is tough, sexy as hell, and she fucks like an animal in bed.
I hate weak women who cry and whine all the time, like my stupid sister.
Women who can’t take a good cock irritate me.
But I can’t imagine having a problem with the Alpha Princess.
In fact, I think she will put up a good fight.
Thinking of her in my bed, fighting me, digging her nails into my skin as I force her to take my big cock, makes me hard.
Fuuuckkkk… I want her. I want to pound into her and hear her moans and screams. I want to look into her eyes and see her hatred for me.
Then, I want to see that anger turn into pleasure as she realizes how good the pain can feel for both of us.
I want to feel that silky-soft pussy sucking my cock as she comes.
I groan as I push down on my hardened cock with my palm. I’m so fucking turned on right now just thinking about her. Soon enough, I won’t need to take care of myself to the fantasy of the Alpha Princess riding my dick because she will be mine.