Peep Show

by Isabella Starling

The germs. The fear. The madness of going out there, to her apartment, to hold her in my arms. It wouldn’t end well, none of this would. Yet for once, I didn’t give a shit.

For the first time in years, my existence had a purpose. For the first time in years, I gave a shit about someone other than me, and it was cutting me deep.

My next step was confident. My posture perfect. Suddenly, I wasn’t doing this for Bebe anymore. I was doing it for myself, and I couldn’t fucking wait to have my fill of Bebe Hall. And

And I wouldn’t fucking stop until her sweet juices were running down my thighs. Until I could taste her essence on my very soul. I wouldn’t fucki...

Up close, he was so painfully handsome I wanted to scream. The dimple in his cheek, still visible even though he wasn’t smiling. Only one, not two like other people had. His stubble, his hair. His beautiful eyes. Miles Reilly was going to break my heart, he just didn’t know it yet.

“Breathe,” he told me gently. “Breathe deeply, Bebe. Breathing is everything. Breathing is control.”

It was the first time in my life that I had asked for help.

Before, it had been forced on me. Given to me. Offered to me. But never like this, never after I humiliated myself completely like I just had.

“Yes,” he groaned after what felt like an eternity, and my body sagged with relief. “I’ll help you, sugar.”

She was taking hold of me, and I’d stopped fighting it. There was no use in denying her electrifying effect on me anymore. I saw it mirrored in her own eyes.

“Please.” Her voice was throaty, raspy. It was turning me the fuck on. “Please, Miles. It’s all I want. I just want to feel your lips on mine. I just want to feel your breath on my lips. I just really, really need to taste you. To feel your tongue. To let you have me. Please, Miles. Please.”

Sweetness, such overwhelming sweetness. It took over, fighting the bitter taste of panic in my mouth and winning victoriously. I tasted her like a man possessed, like I’d never been hungrier for anything than I was for that oh so sweet mouth.

I would never have enough, and I deepened the kiss because I couldn’t help myself, exploring her mouth and claiming every last inch of her beautiful body as my own pressed down against her.

I couldn’t help myself. I took more and more from her until she was a moaning, dripping little fuckdoll ready to be used.

She didn’t even hesitate before stepping on her tiptoes and kissing me. Gently this time. Sweetly. Like an inexperienced little virgin. It drove me fucking wild.

“You won’t scare me off,” she whispered against my lips. “Never ever, Miles.”

I’d never told her the extent of my brokenness, but standing there, in the room alone with her, she seemed to understand me to my very core.

She knew why I was hesitating, she got that I was scared. She was understanding, and sweet, and so fucking irresistible it drove me wild. I wanted nothing more than to drive my cock into her pussy. Bare, no condom, make her understand who she belonged to.

She shook as she crawled to the mirror. My skin prickled at the view. She was so naturally submissive, not even thinking about getting up to her feet to do as I’d told her.

She slipped the dildo inside her, that tight little cunt making a wet, sucking sound as it took it.

“I am,” he said. “I’m jealous of every single person who so much as looks at you. I want to lock you up, so I’m the only one that gets to see you.”

Why did my skin prickle at the disturbing thought? Half of me wished he’d go through with it, while the other half shook with fear.

The game we were playing would never have a winner. He kept pushing me away, and I kept crawling back, desperate for more. But I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted him more badly than anything else in my life, and I wouldn’t stop until he gave me what I wanted.

Look at me. You’re doing this to me. But I’ll take it if it means getting you. I’ll take it, Miles.

My heart broke for both of us this time. She was so naive, so fucking clueless of all the ways I was going to break her to make sure she didn’t see me this way anymore.

I would be a closed chapter in Bebe Hall’s life, and she would be the girl that got away. It was always supposed to be this way. The monster never ends up with the princess.

I already felt the hot tears prickling, but I would never, ever let them fall. I wouldn’t let Miles see how disappointed and hurt I was by what he was making me do. I would never let him know much this betrayal hurt. How badly I wished the two men were him.

I could see Miles in his apartment, shirtless, his expression rigid. You’re fucking hurting me, I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t bear the words, so I kept my mouth shut in a pout, just glaring at Miles as the two men handled me.

“You better start moaning like the whore you are,” he said. “Because I want to get off to you moaning first, crying second, and screaming third.”

cried not because it hurt, but because it was fucking humiliating being used like that. Because for once, I’d let myself believe a man actually gave a shit about me, wanted me for who I was and not for what my body could do.

But Miles had proved exactly the opposite by sending these two men into my apartment. And now, I was going to prove to him just what a whore I was. I couldn’t wait for him to see, and I fucking hoped he was glued to his window.

I let them fuck me. Not just that, I let them take advantage of me like that was the ...

They ravaged my body, not giving a shit whether I couldn’t walk once they were done, because why would they? They’d get to leave the second they were done with me, and I’d be left to pick up the pieces by myself, just like I always was. So I just let them do it, coming all over them, part of me hoping they’d be done soon, and...

And they did. They never stopped once, twisting me this way and that and just fucking, fucking, fucki...

I stopped counting the seconds when I couldn’t lift my head up anymore, too messed up to see whether Miles was still watching. I didn’t even care anymore. He’d gotten what he wanted, and now he...

I couldn’t stand the sight of her with another man for one more second.

Fuck. No. Bebe was mine. No way was I letting anyone touch her. Never again. Never. Ever.

I felt every vein in my body throbbing. Anger making me an ugly, deranged monster that cared about nothing else but my woman. I needed her in my arms. My mouth on her. My cock in her tight little cunt. My hands all over that sweet little body. Me, fucking me, tasting that sugar. Nobody else. Never fucking EVER again.

My eyes locked with Bebe’s the second I walked into the room. She looked like hell and sex in that fucking outfit. Her eyes were red-rimmed and accusatory, and her mouth was trembling.

I watched the mess that used to be a man groan and sigh and cry out in pain, but I felt no fucking mercy for him. I’d seen the way he treated my girl and the moment I locked eyes with him I understood what he was.

A deranged, damaged man just like me, but so different, so much more dangerous. He was a sick as fuck sociopath, who would’ve come back and hurt her when I wasn’t looking.

I saw it from the glint in his eyes, a look I remembered from the last time I’d been in an institution. I saw the darkness and the pain, but whereas mine turned inward, his was ang...

And then it was just us, and I couldn’t even look at her. Couldn’t bear the thought of her being angry with me, of not understanding why I’d done this. And most of all, I couldn’t bear to think that maybe, just maybe, my Bebe had enjoyed it. Because the jealousy would eat me up alive.

Fucking shit, she really thought I could’ve done that. I was madly in love with her, and she thought I wanted to get her hurt. It was all my fucking fault.

My heart broke for her, and I cursed myself a thousand times inside my raging head.

I was going to kill them both for fucking her bare.

Our eyes danced over one another, caught in a dance I didn’t try to understand. It was a battle now, but it was futile because we both wanted the same thing. I wanted him inside me, and he wanted to own me. It was inevitable.

I watched his body, the ink mixing with water, muscles bleeding into bones. He was incredible, magnificent. He was a wet dream, but he was also the salvation, the angel I’d prayed for every night.

“I’m in fucking love with you, sugar.”

I was in love, so fucking in love I couldn’t see anything but him, my Miles, my perfect, beautifully broken Miles. He was all I’d ever wanted.