Page 24 of Carnival Shadows

“Don’t worry. This isn’t over.” His fingers ghost over my pussy, sending shocks of pleasure through me. “I promise you’ll get what you need, but it’ll be on my terms and when you least expect it.”

He stands, and I’m left breathless and tied to the chair, desperate for release. “I want you to sit here and think about what just happened. Think about what’s to come. Anticipation is such a delicious feeling, don’t you think?”

I nod, unable to speak, my body still thrumming with need.

He smirks. “Good. I’ll be back for you. And trust me, it’ll be worth the wait.” He turns and walks away, leaving me tied to the chair, aching for release, my body still reverberating with the pleasure he gave me.

I close my eyes, my mind reeling, trying to process what happened. Remy played me like a violin, pushing me to the edge and stopping, leaving me desperate for more.

I’m torn between frustration and anticipation. Part of me wants to rip free of these restraints and go after him, demanding that he finish what he started. However, there’s another part of me—a more deviant part, that thrives at the thought of waiting, of being completely at his mercy.

And as I sit here, bound and wanting, I realize this is exactly what I wanted. We’re playing this dangerous, thrilling game without rules, and the lines between predator and prey have blurred.

14

REMY

Isit in my trailer, staring at the monitors showing Eden sitting in the on-site torture trailer. The leather of my chair creaks as I lean forward, studying her exhausted form. Even bound and disheveled, she maintains that air of careful control that first caught my attention.

My phone buzzes with a message from Ty about tonight’s shipment. The carnival’s legitimate business needs attention, too, but my thoughts keep drifting back to my beautiful stalker.

Running my hand over my face, I check the time. Twenty-three hours since I left her there, wanting and desperate. The memory of her pleading eyes haunts me. I’ve dealt with obsessed women before, but Eden is different. Her calculated pursuit, the meticulous notes, the way she analyzes everything and craves the darkness in me.

The security feeds show her shifting restlessly against her bonds. Even after hours of captivity, her mind stays sharp, those green eyes scanning for weaknesses.

My little stalker, turning from hunter to prey.

I should focus on the shipment arrangements, checking inventory, and coordinating with Lars and the others. Instead, I find myself watching footage of Eden. She’d built such detailedprofiles of everyone at the carnival but failed to realize she was also being studied.

My fingers drum against the desk as I consider my options. I can’t keep her in there indefinitely, but the idea of letting her go makes my jaw clench. She’s seen too much and knows too much. More than that, she understands too much. The darkness she’s glimpsed calls to her own.

I check my watch again, willing myself to focus on the logistics spreadsheet rather than the security feed showing Eden. The numbers blur together as my mind drifts to her bound form, imagining the marks the rope has left on her pale skin.

My phone lights up with a message from Lars, this time about tonight’s shipment. We’re short two men for the drop, and the buyers are getting antsy. I shoot back my reply, but my attention keeps returning to those feeds.

Eden shifts in her restraints, and I feel my cock twitch. The way she tests her bonds, methodical even now, speaks to that calculating mind of hers. She’s not just another stalker—she’s someone who could actually understand our operation, maybe even improve it. The thought both intrigues and unsettles me.

Ty’s warnings echo in my head. Bringing her deeper into our world risks everything we’ve built, but watching her piece together the patterns and seeing that hungry look when she discovered our darker activities tells me she craves this as much as I do.

I adjust my rock-hard dick, fighting the urge to go to her now. The anticipation is part of the game—let her stew while I prepare everything.

I open the schematics for my trailer on my laptop, marking the modifications needed. The reinforced door and blacked-out windows are already in place, but I need better soundproofing before moving Eden. I can’t have her screams drawing attention.

My phone buzzes again with another message about tonight’s drop. I swipe it away, focusing instead on the supplies I’ll need. Shower essentials, basic clothing, food that doesn’t require utensils—everything must be carefully controlled.

The empty space beside my bed will fit a small mattress. It’s not comfortable, but it’s better than the trailer floor. I make a note to add restraint points to the frame. The bathroom’s too small for her to barricade herself in.

Lars can handle the drop tonight. He’s done it before. My attention returns to the security feed, where Eden dozes fitfully.

The trailer just needs those final touches. Once she’s settled in, I’ll remind her who’s in control, thinking she’s earned some small measure of comfort. Let her get clean and feel somewhat human again—then take it all away.

I pull up the container footage from earlier, watching her read from her journal to me. Her cheeks flushed with each word, those pink nipples growing hard. Her breathing quickened, and her thighs pressed together instinctively.

My phone vibrates insistently, probably Ty wondering why I haven’t confirmed the drop time. Still, all I can think about is Eden’s face when she realizes her new cage is another form of control. When she understands that every small comfort comes with a price.

I’m jolted from my thoughts by a sharp knock at my trailer door. Shifting my attention from the monitors, I let out a frustrated breath.

“For fuck’s sake, Remy. Open up.” Lars’s voice carries through the metal.

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