One I don’t fully understand myself.

I get up from the bed and note the pills on the nightstand. They’ve changed position from last time, so that means she’s been taking them these past couple of days.

Not bothering to pull on my boxer briefs, I head to the kitchen and take out a bottle of water from the fridge. I pause with it halfway to my mouth as I study the notes attached to the door.

Buy groceries.

You didn’t actually slip and break your ankle. That was a nightmare.

Try to reach L again.

I remove the last two, studying her neat cursive handwriting.

She’s reminding herself about her nightmares. Hmm. Does this mean her case is getting worse since the last time she saw her therapist?

My finger taps over the last note and my body turns stone cold, even with the heat in the apartment.

Try calling L again.

Who the fuck is L and why is she writing their name as an initial as if she’s keeping it as a dirty little secret?

Is he an ex-lover of hers? Friend with benefits? The more I think about it, the faster the red from the club threatens to return.

I slam the note back on the fridge before I can crumple it and give my snooping session away.

While I don’t give a fuck, I know she does, and then she’d start one of her psychoanalyzing sessions that only end up hurting her more than necessary.

She’ll soon see my uncensored side. How soon, is the question. My gaze flits over the living room, noting the places where I’ll have Kolya and Yan install cameras when she’s out.

There’s also a nook in her bedroom, right over her vanity, where it would be the perfect spot to insert a surveillance camera.

She’s right. I am a stalker.

But it’s either that or torture her for answers. What am I if not the perfect villain? I prefer to do things smoothly, not harshly.

It’d be a pity to draw blood from that porcelain skin; however, marking it is a different story altogether.

Seeing my red handprints on her ass brought out the beast inside me, the one who craves more marking, more claiming.

Just more.

After drinking the small bottle of water, I throw it in the trash and go back to the bedroom.

Lia is still sleeping in her death-like position, but the sheet has slipped, revealing a perfect pink nipple.

And just like that, I’m getting hard again.

Fuck.

I lie beside her, propping my head on my elbow to watch her intently. Unable to resist, I lean in and take the naked nipple into my mouth, lapping my tongue against it like a teenager with a tit obsession.

At first, Lia remains still, but then her dead position breaks and her lips part. “Mmmm…”

The sound goes straight to my dick, hardening it to the point of torture. I bite down on her nipple enough to cause slight discomfort, hoping she’ll open her eyes, but she moans again, her hand moving under the sheet.

I pull it down to watch her touching her cunt, rubbing her clit in that soft but erotic way that’s meant to get herself off.

Not again.

I might have watched the last time, but there will be no touching herself when I’m around anymore.

Wrapping my hand around hers, I still it, my fingertips brushing against her wet folds.

“Mmmm,” she mumbles, trying to pull her hand free and continue her task.

I nibble on her nipple once more, and this time, she gasps awake, her deep blue eyes staring at nowhere at first before she slowly focuses on me.

“What…?” she trails off when she sees my mouth around her nipple and my hand over hers on her cunt.

A red hue spreads over her fair skin, covering her neck and face and even her ears. Her self-implicated feelings of shame are interesting, and I find myself wanting to engrave them deeper into my mind.

Or perhaps, what I really want is to see her flushed and at my mercy.

I speak against her nipple, making her squirm with each of my breaths against the wet, sensitive tip, “You were touching yourself again, Lenochka, but these soft fingers don’t satisfy you anymore, do they? I can give this cunt what it truly craves.”

She places her other hand on my shoulder. It’s to resist me, to stop me as that smart brain of hers dictates, but she and I know that can’t go on for long.

“Are you going to be a good slut or a good girl, Lia?”

She sucks in a sharp breath, attempting to withdraw her hand that’s on her clit from underneath mine. But I keep it imprisoned and she gasps as I push it in a little.

I straddle her in a swift move, my knees on either side of her parted legs. Lia lets her arm fall to her side and whispers, “When are you going to be done?”

“Don’t act like this is a chore, Lia. That’s another form of lying and you know I don’t appreciate it.”

She glares at me, her tiny features scrunching with the movement. “You’re a sadist.”

“Then that makes you a masochist, Lenochka.”

“I-I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. Can you feel your arousal coating both of our hands?”

She tries to stare at the opposite wall, but I pull her back with a firm hold on her chin. “Don’t do that again. Keep your attention on me when I’m touching you.”

“So now, I’m only allowed to look at you?”

I like that. In fact, I like it so much, it’s fucking disturbing, and I don’t usually consider anything disturbing.

“If you can help it, yes,” I say in a nonchalant tone that doesn’t betray the thought I was having.

“You’re a disaster…ahh,” she whimpers as I align my dick with her entrance.

“Then you shouldn’t get in my way, Lenochka. I will ruin you, break you and mess you the fuck up.”

“Aren’t you doing that already?”

“Not truly, no. You’d be smart not to provoke that side of me.” I release her chin and place a hand behind her back, lifting her to a sitting position, then fling her legs so that they are positioned beside my knees as I slam inside her at the same time.

Fuck. She feels like the first time. No, it’s even better, her walls more inviting and her body more used to mine.

Lia cries out, the sound turning into a soft moan as I power into her tight heat so deep, our groins slap against one another with our hands in between.

Lia stares down at where we’re joined, her face turning a deep crimson, and she starts to glance away.