Reading through his answers was far more of a turn-on than I’d expected. I reached for my vibrator, flicking it on and slowly trailing it over my inner thighs. He’d rated scarification as a five on his interest scale, and immediately I thought of the tiny heart etched into my finger. There was something so unbearably erotic about him slicing into my flesh, watching my blood well up and consuming it right in front of me.

What would it be like to let him cut into me deep enough to scar? To beg him not to hurt me and have him smile at me in response, knowing that he wasn’t going to stop —

Are you about to get yourself off, Jessica?

My phone almost slipped through my fingers. The text was from Lucas.

I messaged back hurriedly. You told me I wasn’t allowed to without permission.

So you DO remember the rules, Manson responded. Why are you already breaking them, brat? Trying to get spanked again already?

Put the vibrator down, and start begging for permission instead, Lucas’s next message read.

Shit, I’d already fucked up. But how did they know this? What was going on?

I frowned, switching off the vibrator and setting it aside. My curtains were open, and I leaned toward the glass, peering down into the yard. Nothing but darkness was out there, but…

I snatched up my phone again. Where are you? How did you know I was using a vibrator?

Lucas’s next message was quick to arrive. It doesn’t matter where I am. But if you pick up that toy again and start using it without permission, I’ll know.

Lucas’s text had a photo attached, and I had to wait for it to load. But once it did, it stuttered my breath to a halt.

It was a photo of my bedroom window. The curtains were open, and the light was on. The angle was taken from somewhere below. I scrambled toward the glass again, taking a much more thorough look at the yard. The bushes, the trees, the wooden fence, behind the garbage cans…nothing.

Does it scare you? Knowing I’m watching you?

I stared at his message, then back out into the dark. It didn’t scare me, not exactly. This feeling was different.

How long have you been watching me? I wrote.

Doesn’t matter. Just consider yourself lucky that I’m willing to give you permission to orgasm.

Vincent responded for the first time, but it was just a laughing emoji and a confetti effect. That fucking clown. My fingers flew over the keys.

What do I need to do?

My fingers tapped rapidly on the mattress as I waited for his response. I kept glancing at the window. Even being on the second floor, I had the irrational fear that I was going to look over and see Lucas outside, staring at me from the dark.