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How can I stay mad at someone so beautiful and talented? You have my permission to write fantasies of how you want me to pleasure you at night.
The cupboard beneath the stairs opens, and a large man steps out. His hair is a blonde so pale that it borders on platinum, with ice-blue eyes that glint with rage. It’s Xero, looking perfectly alive and furious as hell. And he’s holding an executioner’s ax.
My favorite author is Dickens, whose commentary on society is as true today as it was back in his time. Great Expectations and Oliver Twist hold a special place in my heart. His writing is nothing short of genius and yours, my love, is just as spellbinding. The only thing I have on my wishlist is seeing your manuscript in print. Love, Xero
“You pledged yourself to me, in this lifetime and the next.”
“You want forgiveness?”
“I’ll give you a chance to earn it,” he says. “You can even have a head start. If you can make it back to the house before I catch you, I’ll give you anything you want, including your freedom.”
“Then I seal our union by fucking you over my grave.”
I didn’t think I was capable of romantic love until recently. The woman who holds my heart is as strong and fierce as she is beautiful. During the day, I picture her hard at work writing her book and at night, she haunts my dreams. She embraces my darkness and accepts my corrupted soul. That woman, dear fans, is the one reading out these words. Love, Xero
Now, he thinks I’m his prey. And he wants to play a game.
If I lose, I’ll never fix what I’ve destroyed.
I don’t want to be Xero’s chew toy, but there’s a sick part of me that gets excited at the thought of finally getting fucked.
“Eager little thing,” Xero says, his words choked with emotion. “You ran into my arms. Were you trying to get me on my back, little ghost? If you want to fuck me like a cowgirl, then you’ll have to beg.”
“Ah, yes. Primal makes you horny. You want the sensation of being hunted, not trapped.”
“Is this what you want, little ghost?” He presses his thick cock between my ass cheeks. “For me to pound into you good and hard so it hurts?”
“You’re a vengeful little viper, and you’re mine.”
“It’s time to seal our union.”
I would give my soul for the opportunity to receive visits, but the rules are the rules. Love, Xero
“You swore to devote yourself to me until the end of days,”
performed for an audience on social media. I thought you’d visit the next morning. Even the day after. Then you disappeared across town and forgot my name.”
“Now that I’m officially dead, it’s only fitting that I fuck you on my grave.”
“Dirty girl. You want this.”
“This sweet little pussy is mine.”
“You’re so wet.”
“Lie to me all you want. That will only earn you a punishment. But your body screams the truth.”
“Lick your arousal off my fingers.”
“I can fuck you all night, keep you on the edge, bring you to the brink of orgasm and never let you come. If you don’t submit to my commands, I’ll make you so frustrated you’ll beg for death.”
“Only if you’re the one giving me the pain. Since you like biting so much, I’ll add that to the list of things I’ll do when I fuck you in the dirt.”
“Raise those fucking hips, little ghost. Let me see that pretty little cunt under the light of the moon.”
“And ruin this for your mask kink?”
“Do you want me to stop?”
“Someone who deserved to die.” He enters me from behind with a hard thrust that stretches my pussy beyond its limit. Pleasure and pain battle over control of my senses, and I let out a guttural scream.
Not just because he lied about the dildo being lifelike. It’s not even because he doesn’t give my inner muscles a moment to adjust to his impossible girth. He’s longer, thicker, and the piercings don’t feel like silicone. “I knew you would be tight, but this is incredible,” he groans.
He pulls out, and my muscles clamp around his girth, desperate to keep him in place. “So sweet. So wet. I’ve been waiting to fuck you like this for months.”
He growls into my ear. “How does it feel, being fucked on top of a stranger's grave? Knowing that the dead are watching us?”
“Tell me how good it feels,”
“That's right,” Xero snarls. “Let it all out. Show these dead bastards what they’re missing.”
“Good girl.” He pushes my head back into the dirt.
“You’re mine, little ghost,” Xero growls, his deep voice cutting through my spiraling thoughts. “Mine until the end of time.”
Xero switches up his strokes, his Prince Albert piercing rubbing against a spot that ignites sparks of pleasure. They build in intensity, coursing through my system with volts of electricity.
“Mine,” he growls into my ear. “Who do you belong to?”
“Choose your words wisely, little ghost. After all, I’m the one in control of your orgasm.”
“Do you want to come?”
“Then who do you belong to?” “Nobody.”
“Who. Do. You. Belong. To?”
Xero is here, alive and driven—not by a desire for my destruction but by a soul-deep obsession. He’s dangerous, unhinged, but his madness is rooted in a sick kind of love.
The sickest part of me rejoices that Xero wants me so badly, he’d risk my life. The man who set social media alight, who pledged himself to me over hundreds and thousands of others, chose me. Not as his victim or prey, but as the woman he wanted to make his wife. Despite the danger and madness, my chest swells with a twisted sense of pride. In a world where I felt invisible, Xero saw and desired me above all others.
It’s a dark, twisted love, but it’s mine.
“You,” I rasp. “I. Belong. To. Xero.”
“Come for me, little ghost,” he says, his voice raw with need. “Make that tight little cunt ripple around my cock.”
“Sleep, little ghost. I’ll be there when you wake up.”
