RAFAEL
Smart? I'll give her that. Brave? Maybe. But no one dares to cross me, and she, of all people, should know that. And yet, what did she choose to do? She ran. Fucking slipped away like running was ever going to save her.
There's no redemption. No forgiveness. That word isn't in my dictionary. No shadow under the sky is going to hide her forever. I'm not stopping, not after seven years. Not after I've found her.
She dares to flee, dares to run to the human world, thinking it'll protect her? This is my zone. My fucking world.
And I've had only one job these past years, watching her. Day and night. Don't ask me how I did it. I have cameras all over her house. I see every move she makes, every word she speaks, how freely she laughs with her friends.
The flowers, the notes? I sent them. Every single day.
Don't ask me why, because where's the fun in just revealing myself? Fuck no. She needs to pay. Needs to atone for those years. And how? By being haunted, slowly, relentlessly, until she finally gives in.
I sat back and watched as she ran to that so-called therapist, as if some lady with a fancy degree could convince her I wasn't real. Therapy or not, I am real. And I will get what I want.
Five years. Five fucking years of hiding in the shadows, reminding her, little by little, who she belongs to.
She's mine. Mine to deal with. Mine to fuck with. Mine to destroy.
Cole, Chloe, or whatever the fuck his name was, he was lucky. Dying the way he did was merciful. The bastard was an organ investor, yet all he could do was flirt with what's mine. Touch what's mine. Look at her with those goddamn eyes. Fuck that.
She belongs to me. Me alone.
I knew I couldn't tolerate his pathetic, irritating presence any longer. He had to go.
And you know what? I made sure she saw it. She needed to see her little boyfriend dead. Needed to have it burned into her memory, so that the next time she even thinks about crossing me for some stupid fucking guy, she'll remember.
But today? Today is different.
I'm done playing in the shadows. It's time to take this to the next level.
Today was different. Fucking different.
Sending her those notes, watching her touch herself, fuck. By the Moon Goddess. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
It only made me want to shove my cock deep inside her, to claim what was always mine. And I knew it was only a matter of time.
I grabbed my hoodie, pulling it low over my face as I watched her sleep, drugged, vulnerable, mine.
She drank it. The water. Just like I planned. And soon… soon, she'd belong to me in every way.
It didn't take long to get to her house. Of course, I couldn't do it there, not with some pathetic human interrupting our little game. Not that I gave a damn about them. But I needed time. Needed to wring every last orgasm out of her without a single fucking distraction.
I lifted her limp body, tossing her into the car before speeding off.
Not once did she stir. Not fucking once.
Now, she's sprawled on my bed, looking perfect. Beautiful. Too damn beautiful.
"She doesn't deserve us," Ace snarled at the back of my mind.
I growled. The fuck was he talking about? Doesn't deserve us?
After what her mother did? After she ripped our childhood from us?
Rage coiled inside me.
I grabbed her clothes and tore them apart, just one sharp motion, tearing the fabric like it was nothing.
She didn't move. Didn't flinch.
And that only made me want her more.
Her legs her spread wide to my view. Her pink pussy inviting me and making my dick springs free.
Fuck. I hadn't gotten this hard before, for years.
"Take her. Claim her," Ace budged. And I chuckled. Coming from someone that told me we don't deserve her?
"Relax buddy. We have all the time. All the fucking time,"
I trailed my fingers through her skin, each touch sent this stupid feeling across me.
Fuck this. Fuck her. I shouldn't be feeling things. I fuckimg shouldn't be feeling any damn things.
She doesn't move.
Not even a flutter of her lashes.
The drug is still working, keeping her perfectly still, perfectly vulnerable.
I exhale, slow and measured, dragging a hand through my hair as I watch her. So fucking helpless. So fucking mine.
She had no right to run. No right to disappear and pretend that the past never existed.
Her mother stole from me. Stole from my family. Took everything and left nothing but a fucking shell of a man in my father's place. And now? Now she pays.
Not with blood. Not with death. No. That would be too easy.
She pays with herself.
I shift on the bed, my fingers moving over the inside of her thigh, pressing against soft, warm skin. She doesn't react. Doesn't flinch.
I trail my fingers along the slick folds of her bare pussy, feeling every beautiful folds, every soft crease.
Fuck.
She's already wet for me. Even in this dazed state, her body wants me.
My cock throbs painfully, straining against my pants, and a low groan rumbles from my chest.
I part her pussy with my fingers, spreading her open just enough, my touch slow, deliberate.
Then, I ease my middle finger inside her.
Shit.
She's fucking tight.
Her lips part, a silent plea slipping past them, soft, needy, unconscious.
Arghhh!
And fuck, that only makes me harder.
I unbuckle my belt, freeing my aching length. Wrapping a fist around the base, I give it a slow stroke, my eyes locked on the slickness coating her thighs. Her needy, dripping entrance calls to me,begging me to claim her.
My balls are heavy, tight with need.
Guiding the thick head to her heat, I push inside, a sharp gasp leaving my lips. Fuck.
She's so damn tight, her walls gripping me like a vice, resisting and welcoming me all at once.
I'll make it fit.
Pressing in deeper, I groan as her body yields, taking me inch by inch.
Her walls flutter around me, struggling to accommodate my size, I didn't stop. I can't. A guttural groan rumbles from my chest as I press in deeper, feeling her body stretch, gripping me like she was made for this,made for me.
Her back arches, fingers clutching the sheets, her breath catching as I bottom out, filling her to the hilt. Fuck. The way she wraps around me, hot and impossibly tight, nearly undoes me.
I pull back just enough to thrust in again, slow at first, savoring the way her body trembles beneath me. Then I do it again, deeper, harder-until she's gasping, her nails sinking into my skin.
"Fuck!" Even in her drugged state, she still respond to me so fucking damn well.
I drilled in and out, over and over, dragging her through orgasm after orgasm until my own release finally claims me. With With one final thrust, I bury myself deep, a guttural groan tearing from my throat as I spill inside her.
My chest tightens.
Seven years of waiting, hunting, watching. Seven years of making sure she never forgot me, even if she tried. The flowers. The notes.
She thought she was free.
She thought she escaped.
A low chuckle rumbles from my throat. Not fucking yet.
My hands roam over her, slow, deliberate. I take my time, savoring the moment. Her body is warm beneath my touch, her breath steady, unaware.
She would never remember this.
Not fully.
She would wake up in her bed, dressed in silk and wealth, clothes she could never afford, gifts she never bought. And she would wonder. Doubt.
Did she dream it? Imagine it?
She would search for the missing hours, try to piece together the gaps in her mind. And the best part?
She would never find them.
I lean down, pressing my lips to the curve of her ear, inhaling the scent of her skin. Soon, Lila. Soon, you'll know.
I pull back, rolling my shoulders before grabbing the designer dress I brought just for this moment. The soft fabric slips over her body effortlessly, replacing the torn clothes I ruined in my impatience.
A perfect little doll, dressed in wealth she never earned.
I lift her, carrying her out, back to where she belongs.
She won't remember.
But she'll feel it.
Every time she looks in the mirror. Every time she touches that expensive fabric against her skin.
And when the whispers of fear creep into her mind, when she wonders if she's losing herself to the ghosts of her past-
She'll know.
She was never alone.
She was never safe.
And she was never free.