Three
Callum
She calls out to me, sings to me like a siren does a ship, and I’m being pulled toward the rocky shore. I’m at her mercy, and she doesn’t even know it. Something about her is so captivating, enticing. The forbidden fruit I want to taste.
Yet, I lie in wait, lurking beyond the shadows, resisting the nearly overpowering urge to claim her. Have her. I push those thoughts to the farthest depths of my mind, clearing it entirely and allowing the orders to stay at the forefront.
The awareness she exudes is infectious. Like a drug, I can’t stop giving her hit after hit as I watch her body react when I’m near, when she feels me, senses me around her.
Breathing down her neck and viewing her from afar, her mind keeps telling her something is amiss. The way she looks over her shoulder when she’s walking down the halls, the nervous way she taps her pencil against the desk as her eyes quickly move side to side.
She’s thinking of me. I frighten her. Even if she doesn’t know it yet. After the last agonizing class of the day, she beelined for her dorm room. I was thankful, until she rushed back out, and I’ve been trailing her since.
I wish I had been surprised when she ended up in this hole in the wall. I’ve known about her extracurricular activity for a while now.
Obviously.
I’ve seen the power grow, watched it fester beneath the surface, like a caged animal turned rabid. It’s beautiful. Terrifying. Over time, the rush became addictive. The way it feels to have all the power in the room is otherworldly. Kallie craves it, and it’s why I’m not at all surprised she found herself at another drug house, wanting to get her next fix.
Not able to help myself, I watch in focus as she stretches. My cock twitches in response, and it’s a miracle I don’t do anything about it.
So teasing.
So tempting.
The pathetic excuse for a fight is finally over, and she takes her spot in the ring, awaiting her next opponent. Others around me begin to talk in hushed voices, making sly comments and placing bets. I should step in there, take her right there in the mess of blood and sweat from the previous fighters for everyone to see—then gouge their eyes out for even daring to look.
The outfit she’s wearing leaves very little to the imagination—not that I need to use mine. Tight pants hug her body like a second skin, caressing every curve like I yearn to. With each breath she takes, the swell of her breasts makes a prominent appearance that I can’t look away from.
Fuck, what has gotten into me?
Suddenly, light applause breaks out, and snide laughter resounds as a stocky bald man ducks through the ropes and takes his place on the other side. Kallie sizes him up before a gleam appears in her eye paired with a menacing grin.
Obviously, there isn’t a single person in here that sees her as a threat. A bunch of sorry souls. They have no idea who they’re up against.
Neither does she.
She’s been more on edge lately. Checking over her shoulder more frequently and despite not getting enough sleep for obvious reasons, it’s been less and less with each passing night. When the moon was high in the sky, she snuck out from her dorm–careful not to wake that roommate of hers–- and slinked across campus until we were both staring at the dump she seems to favor. After watching a few rounds, I saw myself out to handle some business that unfortunately couldn’t wait.
However when I was heading back, I had an interesting interaction with my little fighter. The apples of her cheeks turned beet red, and fury radiated off her. Watching her storm away in a fit of rage was the highlight of an otherwise shitty afternoon.
Now, after her body has exhausted all forms of exertion, I follow her down the long deserted hallway, relishing in how intune her body is to my presence.
Goosebumps scatter over her olive skin, and her next step falters as the slight breeze I’ve created makes contact. Right on cue, there’s the tinge of hesitation I’ve grown so fond of. The brief internal warfare of it’s just the wind, or is it something more sinister?
Each time she looks over her shoulder, it’s anticipated. The slow turn of her head, like she expects the boogie man from her nightmares will be standing behind her.
No, that title belongs to me. I am the ghost she can’t see—not unless I want her to. And Gods do I want to. The most entertaining part is, she’s already seen me. She knows my face, whether her conscious mind wants to remember or not.
Last night, my cover was almost blown, all because I saw her walk down the hall in that washcloth she calls a towel, her long raven-black hair piled atop her head, the glow of her tan skin pleading for my fingers to run up and down every inch of her. Unfortunately, I had to settle on eye-fucking her instead.
As I was scanning her gorgeous long legs—that I admittedly would love to have wrapped around my head—she began to turn around. I loathe her for making me so distracted. She’s a mission, a means to an end. Nothing more, nothing less.
It’s apparent that I don’t only torture others but myself as well. Following her into the bathroom is probably not the best idea, but the view is damn nice. I watch as she pulls the glass door open and steps into the shower. Once the temperature is searing—undoubtedly hot enough to burn her flesh off—she steps under the stream.
Fog bellows up the door, and my cock comes to life as her silhouette emerges from the steam. My eyes trace over every little dip of her curves, taking note of the scars that mar her flesh, even the ones still recovering beneath.
She turns slightly, putting her tight plump ass on full display, and images of plunging myself deep into the tight rim has a groan threatening to escape.
But fuck me sideways when she gives me the best seat in the house with the perfect view of her front, and I’m all but lost for words. Her perky breasts sit on a fucking pedestal for only my eyes to see. Droplets trace the swells, extenuating her pebbled nipples that are begging to be sucked, bitten, devoured.
I take my sweet-ass time taking in every agonizingly exquisite detail until my gaze locks on her pussy. The smell of her arousal penetrates the air, like the sweetest nectar, and I want nothing more than to stick my head between her thighs, licking and sucking from her entrance all the way to the buzzing bundle of nerves desperately awaiting my arrival.
She rakes the soap through her raven hair, and I can’t help but think of how glorious it would be to have the strands wrapped around my fist, yanking in a silent demand for her to scream my name. I send a cold rush of air across her chest, and I almost lose myself right then as a soft moan escapes from her lips. Instantly, the door opens a crack, and she peeks her head out. Eyes wide, she looks astounded, frightened as her gaze swings from side to side, unsure of where it came from.
Oh, Kallie. Kallie, Kallie, Kallie.
Are you scared, Princess? Afraid of what’s lurking beyond the shadows?
You should be.
The corner of my lip quirks up in a smirk as uncertainty paints her face. The delectable taste of fear lingers alongside the spike in her heart rate, and I let the insatiable feeling wash over me like a fine mist.
With a final sweep, she pulls her head back in and rinses the shampoo out of her hair. Once the suds are gone, I watch with intensity as she rubs the bubble-filled washcloth over her body. My cock strains against the zipper, wanting to be set free. Silently, I slide my zipper down, and my eyes roll to the back of my head with instant relief.
But it’s not enough.
Gripping my cock, I give myself one languid stroke in unison with her washing her body. My pace quickens as I continue to watch the show. My show.
Almost as if she can sense me watching, her fingers ghost over her breasts before squeezing her hardened nipples, a throaty moan passing through her lips.
The base of my spine begins to tingle, and a bead of precum forms at my tip. All the air rushes out of my lungs when I see her take the shower head off the wall. The water dances over her body as it descends to the apex of her thighs. Her breathy whimpers reach my ears when she adjusts the water to hit the right spot. Pleasure plays on her features, and she presses her back against the wall, sliding down until her ass meets the ground. With her legs spread, she almost gives me a perfect view of her but keeps the shower head right where my eyes want to linger.
Bringing her other hand to her breast, she pinches and twists her nipple with force. The sounds leaving her body are holy, like a choir singing to the gods.
But I’m the only god she’ll be sending her harmony to.
Releasing herself, the tips of her fingers trail down to her entrance, and as I watch them disappear inside of her, I almost lose it.
Her head tips back in ecstasy, giving me a full view of her perfect long neck. As she quickens her pace and her breathing becomes erratic, my balls tighten, and I quickly grab her clean underwear before spilling my release into them.
Biting my lip with punishing force, copper floods my mouth as I contain the groan pounding against my throat, spilling the last of my seed in the lacy material wrapped around me. It’s then I hear the water turn off, and I place the panties where I found them before zipping myself up and vanishing into the shadows. I stay there, lying in wait, until the audible gasp fills the room when she finds my gift.