𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐑 ✓ | 18+

Chapter Seventeen

Ghostface

I walked home in the cool night air, a sense of guilt gnawing at the edges of my consciousness. I knew what I did to Isabella was wrong, that I hurt her in ways I never intended. But as quickly as the guilt rose, My heart and body were hurting when she said those words.

I could still feel her beneath me, her tears staining her cheeks as she begged for me to kill her. I froze at the thought, but why? Why couldn't I just kill her? I asked myself that every day. Why can't I? The thought of her even dying made my heart sink, but why?

Fuck... what is wrong with me?

I reached my apartment and let myself in, the darkness of the night enveloping me like a cloak. I stripped off my mask and clothes, letting them fall to the floor in a heap. I didn't bother with the lights as I made my way to the shower, the hot water washing away the remnants of the night's activities.

As I stood under the water, I tried to push thoughts of Isabella from my mind. But her image lingered, her tear-stained face haunting me like a ghost. I knew I should feel remorse, should feel something other than the raw desire that consumed me. But I couldn't help it—I wanted her, I needed her. My dick hardened at the thought of being inside her sweet pussy. I stepped out of the shower and toweled off, my mind already racing with plans for our next meeting.

I knew I should feel guilty for what I'd done to her, for the pain I'd caused. But all I could think about was the rush of power I felt when I was with her, the way she looked at me with fear and desire in equal measure.

I knew I should stop, should walk away before I caused her any more harm. But the thrill of the chase, the intoxicating mix of fear and desire, it was too much to resist. All I could hear were the voices in my head.

get her.

fuck her.

wreck her

Break her.

And that is what I am going to do, So with a sense of long-ass determination, I dried off and headed to the dresser. I threw on pant sweats and a black long-sleeve shirt, quickly putting my mask back on.

The streets were quiet as I made my way to Isabella's apartment—well, her and her friends' apartment—the darkness of the night enveloping me like a shroud. My mind was consumed with thoughts of her, of the way she looked at me with fear and desire in equal measure.

I reached her building and made my way to the back, where her bedroom window was. The moon cast a soft light over the scene, illuminating her room in a ghostly glow. I paused for a moment, watching her sleep, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

With a sense of determination, I climbed up to her window and pried it open, the sound of the lock snapping loud in the stillness of the night. I slipped inside, the cool air of her room washing over me. She stirred slightly but didn't wake.

Approaching her bed, my heart pounded in my chest. I knew what I was about to do was wrong, that it would only hurt her more. But I couldn't help myself—I needed her, I wanted her. I noticed she was sleeping with her glasses on. Who the fuck does that? I shook my head and reached for her glasses. They looked damaged from me throwing them. I suddenly felt something, regret? about some damn glasses. I scoffed and placed her glasses on her dresser.

I quickly reached out and gently shook her shoulder, my voice barely a whisper. "Isabella," I said, my voice filled with a mix of desire and desperation. "Wake up."

She stirred again, this time opening her eyes slowly. She looked up at me, confusion and fear flashing in her eyes. "What are you doing here?" her voice trembling. I didn't answer. Instead, I reached up to remove my mask.

revealing my face to her for the first time. She stared blankly at my face, not saying a word. All I heard was her hard breathing. She was lost for words.

"Why are you here?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "How did you get in?"

I didn't even have an answer. All I knew was that I wanted her, that I needed her, and that nothing else mattered. Without another word, I slammed my lips on hers.

kissing her deeply and roughly. I bit her bottom lip, sucking it possessively. She resisted, pushing against me, trying to break free. But slowly, almost imperceptibly, she began to respond. She moaned through my demanding, possessive kisses, my hands quickly moving to her back to pull her closer.