10. Crave

On the video feed,the latest conquest hits Rae's ass like a set of bongos. A drum. An instrument. Not a woman. Not a person. An object. Her lips pinch, her annoyance obvious. That primal need goes straight to my balls. The filthy bitch probably doesn't see the objectification from this angle, but I do.

She glances at the camera lens in the corner of the room, and those eyes penetrate me down to my core. My cock twitches.

Finally, she flips over, lying on her back again. She grabs his hand and puts it on her throat, forcing him to choke her. She squeals in delight and fake fear, but he loosens his grip. He pulls out his limp dick. A scared little boy.

What's wrong? Rae asks. She sits up.

His posture stiffens. I just?—

She kneels on the ground, swallowing his limp dick in her mouth. He tilts his head back. His cock comes back to life.

I smirk. My little girl can't help herself. Even if she's using him, she has to make him come.

The leather mask lies on the seat next to me. My truck is parked in the back corner of her apartment lot again, with a clear view of her building. I rub my dick through my pants. I shouldn't be getting off on her sucking another man's dick, but I don't care. It's not like he'll live for much longer. She won't either.

The hookup pulls out, coming into his palm. Rae yanks his hand forward, licking up his white spunk. He deflates into exhaustion. She keeps licking.

I gotta—he spins toward the bathroom. Rae slyly smiles at the camera, like she knows I'm watching. She flips through his wallet, pulling out a handful of bills. A few seconds later, he comes out of the bathroom, drying his hands on his pants.

He starts, Did you want to get a burger?—

I've got this podcast I'm working on,she says. Thanks, though!

I click off the phone's screen then watch the stairs. The conquest exits, whistling with his hands in his pockets. He gazes up at her bedroom window like he's lost in a daze. I understand that. It's not every day you meet a woman like Rae.

He drives off.

It takes about an hour for Rae's bedroom windows to darken. Then I check her surveillance feed to make sure she's asleep. When she hasn't stirred in twenty minutes, I head up to her apartment. A neighbor with their work apron on waves to me on the communal stairs.

"What's up?" I ask.

"Nothing much; you?" he asks.

"Same."

Once I'm alone outside of her front door, I slip the mask over my face, zipping the back closure to tighten the leather, then I unzip the opening on my lips. I use my key and slowly shut the door behind me.

Inside, I keep my boots inaudible. Snores drift from her bedroom.

I creep toward her.

Rae lies on her side, her ass sticking out of the comforter. Her oversized shirt bunches around her stomach, her thong pressing against that sliver of pink flesh.

A black circle on her purse catches my eye. It's darker than the rest of the bag. I lean closer. The spot is no bigger than a button.

A camera lens.

I don't have a video feed to this lens, which must mean it's a different brand that uses different software. But it's the same purse Rae brings to the Galloway House.

Rae stirs, rubbing her eyes. Within seconds, she's back to snoring.

I turn back to the hidden lens on her purse. The little girl must think she has so much dirt on me, but she has no idea that I have her password. Most people use the same one for every login. I quickly scan her laptop and find a surveillance app I overlooked before. The login works for it. Later, I'll collect that footage, and I'll be able to prove our mutual depravity. She thinks she'll be able to blackmail me, but we're cut from the same cloth.

I smile at the lens, my lips framed by the zipper's teeth. I hope it's recording now.

Turning back to the sleeping girl, I run my fingertips along her pussy so gently, a chill runs down my spine. I'm not a soft man by any means, but the idea of being here—right where I can fuck and kill her while she sleeps—is invigorating, even for someone like me. I pull her thong to the side, exposing her bare skin, and those pussy layers stack up. Curly hair. Supple skin. Ripe and waiting.

I stick a gloved finger between her pussy lips. Irritation bubbles inside of me; there's no skin-to-skin contact, but I'll have that before the experiment is over.

She groans. That annoyance drifts away. My bulge grows.

I should stop. If I want to keep Rae in the dark about my ability to get inside of her apartment, I should leave now. She'll never know I was here.

But there's something about letting her know that gets to me.

I stuff my finger in, then pull it out with a slick pop. The juices crawl down my glove, and I lick them off: sour and fresh, mixed with leather. I don't desire pussy or cock; I crave being the predator. I need the threat. I relish in the power of forcing myself onto a person, even as they die. And yet there's something about tasting her that makes me lick my lips.

It'll be a shame to kill her one day. She has so much potential; all she needs is a little push. Inevitably though, I'll lose interest. I always do.

But I'm not bored yet.

I kneel down, stuffing my mouth to her pussy, my masked nose in her ass crack, rubbing against her hole. My fat tongue flickers across her folds, and the zipper scrapes against her slit. She wiggles her hips—the zipper must be tickling her—and she grinds her ass into my face, her arousal smearing my mask and lips.

The fucking cunt on this woman.

I grab her hips, pulling her to me, feasting on those delicious, wanton, slutty little holes. Her cunt is slick, slopping against me, and I thrust my hips forward, knocking into the bed frame, jostling her in bed. I don't stop. I lick up, tracing her pussy lips up to her ass crack, then I tongue-fuck her dark hole.

She moans. Rolls over. Her lips smack.

I could go right now. I should.

Or I could let her know that I'll always be watching her.

I stand over her then, positioning myself so that I'm the first thing she sees. Her eyelids flicker open. She blinks, then focuses on the mesh screens covering my eyes.

She screams.

I pin her to the bed with my weight, pinching her nose shut and covering her mouth. Her eyes are frantic. She whimpers into my palm.

"You're going to listen to me very carefully, Rae," I say. I let go of her nose and mouth, and instead, I grab her neck, choking her the way she tried to get her conquest to choke her a few hours ago. "You belong to me. Every time you give someone else pleasure. Every time someone else touches you. It's only because I am letting them fuck you. Do you understand me?"

Her eyelids flutter. I tighten my grip. She nods frantically.

"Then say it," I growl.

"I'm yours," she sputters.

She pulls at my hands, but the little girl is no match for me, and she never will be. Her eyes bulge, and my dick strains against my pants. I thrust against her. There's too much fucking fabric between us. I squeeze harder until she only has seconds left.

"You're going to kill for me one day," I say in a low voice. "You're going to die for me too. And fuck, I'm going to enjoy every second of it."

Her eyes roll to white, her muscles loosening. Unconscious.

I smirk at the camera lens on her purse, then I move quickly, leaving her alone. Once I'm on the communal stairwell, I rip off my mask and stuff it in my pocket. This time, I don't run into any neighbors on the stairs.

In the truck, I gaze at her building. She stands on the top stair near the rail. Her eyes glaze over my truck as she adjusts her pajama pants. I'm too far away. She has no idea that it's me.

She goes back inside.

I sniff. The scent of her cunt lingers on my lips, but it's not sex that I want. It's blood. Her blood.

But I'm not going to kill her yet.

I download a few hookup apps, using the same info I copied from her surveillance programs. After two failed attempts, the login for the third app works.

Are you free?I want to fuck now, she typed.

I click on the conquest's profile, then download his default photo and use a reverse image search to find him.

The conquest—her hookup, DrummerBoy420—lives in Pahrump, but his picture is uploaded to one of the Las Vegas resort websites. A cabana boy for rich and wild cougars. He's young and fit. He must make a good chunk of change at the resort. He's Rae's age, and I'm way fucking older than her.

Aww, what is it? my mother's voice asks. Are you jealous, little boy? Jealous because she asked that man to come over and not you?

I'm not jealous of this man for sticking his dick inside of that little girl. That would mean that I'm insecure about my place in this world, but I know, without a doubt, that no one will ever be able to get to Rae like I can.

He's just a dick she's using for a cheap thrill.

I put the key in the ignition and start the truck. The engine roars to life, loud enough that Rae can likely hear it in her bedroom.

The mind is a funny thing. When it has no connection to the people it sees, the suffering makes no difference.

But if Rae knows the man that's dying, it will be different for her. It's why I love killing people when they're together. They fight for each other's survival, then dissolve into dying defeat, and it's like taking a breath of fresh air after being choked unconscious.

When the time is right, I'll kill DrummerBoy420 while Rae watches. The need for survival, the fear of death, and the thrill of murder will rush between her legs. I'll force her to endure that inevitable lust.

She won't be able to deny that we're the same.