𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐑 ✓ | 18+

Chapter Twenty-Three

Ghostface

I watched as she walked out of her bathroom, her eyes meeting mine. Without breaking my gaze, she tugged the towel free, letting it drop to the ground.

I was shocked by her sudden boldness. This wasn't like her at all, at least not from what I had observed. She had always been more shy, cautious even. But as I watched her, I couldn't deny that I was intrigued, even pleased, by this new side of her. There was a fire in her eyes, a confidence in her movements that I found so attractive.

My mouth fucking watered at the sight of her perfectly round breasts, the small globes just big enough to fill my palms, her nipples a dusky pink several shades darker than her skin, already peaked with desire. She took my hands and placed them on her breasts, and it took monumental effort for me to stop myself from rolling my thumbs over her nipples.

"Since when did you become so bold?" I asked.

She blew out a breath. "I-I don't know."

. . .

I caressed her nipples with my thumbs, and she shivered, pressing her bare pussy against me. "I want you," she whispered.

My gaze snapped up from her breasts to meet her intense stare. "Tell me how much you want it."

"I want you, please," she pleaded, her voice barely audible. "I want you to take me."

I groaned. "Fuck, Bella. Do you even know what you're asking for?"

Did she really understand?

I had come here with a plan, but her declaration had thrown it all into disarray. My mind was a mess, unsure of how far to go, how deep to take her into my darkness.

"I know I want you," she insisted. "And I trust you enough to surrender to you."

What a dumb, foolish girl.

I gripped her thighs and stood up. "I won't stop if you ask me to," I warned. She clung to me, her voice breathless as she replied, "I won't ask you to."

I tossed her onto the bed, and she let out a surprised yelp as she bounced on the mattress. Leaving her there, my mind racing, I headed to the kitchen with determined steps. I knew what needed to be done. I reached into a drawer, my hand closing around the cold metal of the blade. With a swift motion, I pulled it out, the blade glinting in the dim light.

Returning to the room, my heart thumping, I found Isabella still there. Closing the distance between us, I held the blade tightly in my hand.

As I approached, I kicked the door shut behind me, enveloping us in near darkness. I could hear Isabella's quickened breaths, the rustle of her movements as she backed away from me.

Raising the blade high, I brought it down, plunging it into the corner of her mattress. She gasped, clapping her hands over her mouth to stifle her scream.

With a beckoning gesture, I invited her closer. "Come here, gorgeous," I murmured, my other hand firmly gripping the knife handle. "I want to watch you ride it."