That Sik Luv

Copyright Copyright © 2023 Jescie Hall All rights reserved. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the author. ISBN: 9798378326655 Editor: Jenn Heathers Cover Model: playsxboi Contact: [email protected] Content Warnings This book contains heavy, and potentially triggering elements including, stalking, religious trauma, desecration of religious artifacts, cult-like settings, CNC, degradation, humiliation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, somnophilia, possessive behavior, graphic depictions of violence/murder, and explores various aggressive forms of sexual play and BDSM. To those taught they were born into sin, may you regain your faith within the confines of new and impure restraints. Prologue Sex, masturbation, erotic thoughts. They taught me these things were shameful. Sinful. Vile. Girls like me aren’t promiscuous. We look down on those who are. We’re proper. Pure. Innocent. But the more I see of the masked man lurking in the shadows of the night, the more evidence of his sick obsession with me, the more my lustful imagination runs wild. I wanted sin. And I wanted it with him. Aero is my stalker. He’s like the air around him. Vanishing whenever he pleases. Showing up to surprise me when I least expect it to pleasure me in ways unimaginable. He only has two rules for me; give myself over to my hidden desires, and never find out who he is. What he doesn’t realize is he’s creating a monster. One with the same insatiable hunger for the sickest form of toxic love. Chapter one Budded RosesAs soon as my eyes open, my focus is pulled to the blood red awaiting me. I stare at the freshly cut rose that’s lying in the old wire trash can near my desk. Its thorns push through the metal, piercing the grated openings. It was cut too soon. The tight, round, velvet bud hasn’t even had the chance to open. No time to bloom.An ending.A message.A warning.I know it was him. It’s always him.My stranger.My stalker.No twenty-year-old girl who’s as pure as me should ever have to worry about random boys who leave freshly cut flowers in her garbage can or peculiar messages written on wrinkled pages of ripped-up Bible. But for the last three weeks since graduation, it’s been nothing but cryptic messages and budded roses awaiting me in the trash every morning.I lay on my side, staring at the crimson bud as I become aware of my hands on my body. One rests against the warm skin of my neck while the other lays between my soft, milky thighs.I feel the tingling sensation breathe to life beneath my skin. That uncomfortable feeling that gives me a knot in my stomach while making my shoulders shudder.He was here again. Watching me sleep. How he gets in is a question I can’t seem to answer. My brother makes sure to lock every door and window when he leaves for his dorm room, especially now that our parents have left.Rolling onto my back, I think about the effort, the reasons, and none of it makes sense to me. It’s a terrifying little secret that only I and Mia, my best friend, know about. I wouldn’t dare share it with Baret. Getting my older brother out of the house to live in the dorms has been such a relief for my studies. I didn’t need his incessant and lewd behavior distracting me anymore.Last week, I’d questioned Mia if I was alone in this apparent stalking, leaving out the specific details, but informing her of the eyes I felt on my back at all times. It creeped her out as much as it did me when she found out, becoming her new little project to uncover. She assumed someone was out to ruin my reputation. To tarnish the hard work I’ve achieved throughout my four years of high school, to prevent me from finally joining the Covenant Academy as the first female Magnus Princeps.I’d worried she’d heard Saint and his ridiculous gang of friends talking. Was the future of our congregation simply finding new and unusual ways to torture me again? Teasing me for my achievements? Testing my abilities? My faith? Seems unlikely, as this person has a sensitive touch to his work. A delicate approach to stalking, and although he’s starting to mature, Saint has a history of being anything but delicate. Or kind.This person seems to have a fascination with me that doesn’t end.I’m just stupid and curious enough to allow it to continue.Whoever was following me was after something, and the only way to get it was through silent obsession.I reach for the nightstand drawer, pulling out the wrinkled note I hid last week. Just the thought of this person ruthlessly ripping pages from the Bible to use as stationary makes my skin crawl with terror as much as it piques my interest.The page is torn from Deuteronomy in the Bible, and the circled passage reads, For the LORD your God is he who goes with you to fight for you against your enemies, to give you the victory.Over the passage is a handwritten letter in red pen, the strikes of the letters scrawled so hard it nearly tore through the delicate page.I’m your GOD now -AeroRunning my fingers over the deep divots of his name awakens something within me, and I wonder if my strange stalker’s curiosities are running as wild as mine.The idea flogs my mind, and I want to know if he’s tempted to touch me while watching me in my bed. The thought that maybe he already has sweeps through me, and something of a wildfire spreads down between my thighs, causing me to immediately feel the weight of guilt heavier than the blanket wrapped around me.The front door opens downstairs, disrupting me from