Page 19 of Under Fyre

He said she’d bleed for him, if he was violent enough.

It sickens me, but my cock has no morals. There’s no right and wrong. The thought of putting anything inside Charlotte, of fucking her, it makes me hard. Makes me ache to come inside her. To fill her womb with my seed until she’s overflowing.

I was so close to violating her.

I imagine her grabbing my dick through my pants, squeezing me, jerking me off.

The exhibitionist thrill of coming in front of her, of letting her see how much Iwanther, it sends a hard ache into my balls.

I’d take my cock out, make her lick it clean. Inch it into her wet mouth and force her to suck me until I was hard again.

I groan, my balls tightening.

I imagine being inside her when I shoot come against the shower tiles, but it’s not the same.

My desperate need for Charlotte cannot be contained much longer.

She made excellent progress today, but I’m not sure if I can be patient with her much longer. I want to heal her, but I want her in my bed too. Not just for one night. Not just for one week.

Charlotte is mine.

She will alwaysbemine.

Once I’ve healed her, I’ll never let anyone else defile her again.

Except for me, of course.

Because by then, I would have earned the sole right of claiming her, night after night after night.

Chapter Ten

Fyre

The kitchen is still warm from when I cooked dinner. Stew—Arrow’s favorite. There’s no need for me to light the fire. Arrow is already snoring—I guess it’ll be an early night for the whole family.

Family.

I shake away the treacherous word before it can begin to fester.

Sipping at my wine, I open my laptop and log in to one of the many social networks I’m part of. A picture of a young girl, no older than sixteen, stares back at me from the profile photo.

I’ve assumed a vast array of pseudonyms over the years, each one serving a different purpose.

In some, I’m a predator.

Others, prey.

When I first began investigating the criminals who’d committed the atrocities my students were trying to recover from, it surprised me how manyfriendsthey had.

Going off the true crime shows I’d watched in the past, I assumed these people were all loners. Outcasts. Rejects. That they lived in a dysfunctional, single-parent home—father usually absent—or alone.

But most of these deviants have a massive online brotherhood. A network of like-minded men that they communicate with. Friends they’ll exchange photos and videos with, and even partner up with.

I’ve finally made contact with one of them. A degenerate of the worst kind. I’ve been stalkingDaddyNosBestfor over two years.

I first encountered him four years ago. He was one of over a hundred members of the White Lily chat room I was part of back then. He was one of many responders to my post where I asked for tips on where to find images online.

It disgusted me even having to write out the post, but it was all worth it when the replies came flooding in.

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