She was not just a silhouette in the window across the street. No. She was mine. Mine to play with, mine to bleed for. And I was going to make sure she did just that.
My phone pinged with a message and I looked down to find a photo waiting for me. My fingers shook as I opened the message and her face stared back at me from the screen.
I hadn’t been able to see her properly from the other side of the street, but now my mystery girl was looking right into my eyes in all her glory. And she was fucking glorious.
Dark hair, falling in rich ebony waves down her shoulders and over her tits, her lips painted Barbie pink and smeared from what that prick had done to her. Her eyes, her beautiful blue eyes, were open wide and needy, staring up at me, her mascara smeared, and her look was one of desperation that sent blood rushing to my dick.
She was naked, her hair the only thing covering her tits, with a hint of a rosy pink nipple between the dark strands.
I called her number.
She picked up after the second ring, letting me know she’d been holding her phone.
“He-Hello?” she stuttered, and my cock swelled so painfully I groaned.
She let out the sweetest little frightened shudder at the sound of it, and it made me yearn for her so much, I clenched my fist around my throbbing cock.
“Your name,” I growled into the phone. “Tell me your name.”
“Nora,” she whispered. “My name is Nora Dutch. What’s yours?”
“X,” I said roughly, the letters forming her sweet name dancing before my eyes.
I didn’t give her anymore deliberately, quickly changing the topic before she could figure out the game I was playing.
I heard her sucking, and my balls tingled for her. Fucking Christ, she was getting me off like a pro without even trying. I could only imagine what that pussy would feel like stretched around my dick. For now, my imagination would have to do, but sooner or later, I was going to have her bent every which way around my cock.
“Tell me,” I said, and she whimpered at the sound of my voice. “Tell me what I’m going to be tasting once you’re ripe for my tongue.”
“I saw you, I saw you twist her neck like her life wasn’t worth a second’s thought!” She was panicking. Good. I could smell the fear. “Oh God what am I doing...”
“You’re doing exactly what your body wants. What it craves for.” I hum.
“You killed her”, she whispered.
“I shouldn’t be doing this...”
“No. No you shouldn’t, but when has that stopped you, Lenora?”
“Ho-how do you know my name?”
“That’s not the only thing I know.”
“Who are you?” She whimpered, frightened.
I hung up.
It would haunt her. Scare her, make her paranoid. She should be.
I wanted her.
On her knees, sucking me off, being a good little slut for me.
But more than that, I wanted to taste her. I could see the drops of her blood, down her long, sexy neck, further down.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
I would have her, but first, I had to play.
Make her beg, wish for death, for what she did could never be undone.
She killed him. My brother.