But instead of feeding my dark obsessive need by throwing me scraps of her naked body, she
does something that makes my blood boil. She reaches for the curtains and draws them closed, blocking my view. A growlrumbles in my chest. I need to see her. I need to know what she’s doing, what she looks like in intimate moments. This isn’t just about control; it’s about needing to be there, to see every part of her, hear every small noise she makes. Because even if she doesn’t know it, her presence, her body, her face, everything about her feeds the monster inside me.
When I yearn for her, when I desire her, I feel human.
I’ve always been detached and unemotional. Sarcastic and unbothered. Nothing impressed me. Nothing made me want to possess it. But deep inside, I felt an emptiness. The hollowness that comes from not having anything to love, anything to care about. I needed an obsession, something I could fixate on, something that could rattle my heart, spark my emotions.
And I found that in Callista Vale. She makes me feel things I’ve never felt before. Desire, craving, protectiveness, tenderness, possessiveness. I’m not ready to let go of the one woman who makes my soul burn, makes my heart beat.
I grab my phone and dial her number. It rings twice, and I’m already on edge.
“What?” she answers, her voice sharp but slightly breathless.
“Open the curtains,” I command, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Why? So you can stalk me? No thanks.” Her tone is defiant, but there’s a hint of something else—a tremor, a catch in her breath.
“I have other ways of watching you, Callista,” I say, my voice low and threatening. “You won’t like them as much.”
“I won’t let you watch me,” she retorts, but there’s a slight waver in her voice. She’s turned on by the idea, even if she won’t admit it.
“You want me to force my way into your room?” I ask, my voice dropping to a seductive drawl. “You want me to see the filthy things you do at night? Maybe you want me to help you.”
She coughs, trying to cover her surprise. “You don’t know what I do at night.”
“I do. I’ve seen it all. I know you beg for a Daddy as you come. I know how your pussy glistens when you’re turned on. How you breathe hard when you’re close. I know how you fantasize about being submissive. You need praise. You need someone to tell you that you’re good.”
There’s complete silence on the other end. I can almost hear her heart racing.
“Do you actually have videos of me…like that?” She swallows so hard I hear an audible pop.
“Dozens of them. You naked, spread out on your bed like a?—”
She hisses, cutting me off before I can get more graphic with my description.
“Delete whatever footage you have of that,” she finally says. In contrast to her words, her tone is timid. Afraid.
“You’re not denying it, then.”
“Are you going to blackmail me with those videos?” she asks, her voice shaking.
“No. They’re for my eyes only.” The thought of anyone else seeing her like that makes my blood boil. I always delete the footage. No one gets to see my woman naked, not even accidentally.
She scoffs. “You’re just like all bullies. Harassing me, using illegal footage to blackmail me.”
“I’m not blackmailing you,” I remind her. “I only do it because it’s fun. You’re intriguing, and I want to see behind your mask.”
“Fun?” Her words break on a sob. “It’s fun to ruin my life, to make me feel powerless and scared?”
“Don’t you like being powerless?” I ask. “Isn’t that what you crave?”
“No.” I hear her sniffle, and it cuts through me like a knife. She’s crying. But I don’t think she’s crying because I’m wrong. I think s he’s crying because I saw something she didn’t want me to see, and yet, she can’t deny that she wanted someone to see that part of her.
“Callista,” I say softly, trying to shush her. “Don’t cry.”
“You’re terrible,” she says. “You had no right to see those things, to see me…”
“I had no right to,” I admit. “But I won’t apologize.”
