My Babysitter

Hidden Eyes

Matt Hale leaned against the wall at the edge of the college party, his stormy gray eyes locked on Flora Reyes. The music thumped through the crowded house, but he barely heard it. His focus was on the girl who had once been the child, now a woman whose every move pulled at the dark thread of obsession he could no longer ignore. She stood near the center of the room, laughing with her best friend Mia, her long chestnut hair falling in waves below her hips, her fair skin flushed from the heat of the room and the wine in her hand. Her hazel eyes sparkled with that familiar mischief, her small pouty lips curved in a sarcastic smile as she teased someone nearby. The yoga-toned curves of her body were highlighted by the short dress she wore, the fabric clinging to her hips and the swell of her breasts in a way that made his c**k twitch even from across the room. He rubbed his thigh through his palm trying to control himself.

A tall college boy, cocky and too sure of himself, had sidled up to her. His hand found her waist, fingers splaying possessively as he leaned in to whisper something in her ear. Flora laughed, but it was the polite kind, the one she used when she was keeping things light. Matt’s jaw tightened. He had been watching her every move and expressions. This boy was no different. Matt pulled out his phone, his fingers moving with practiced efficiency. A quick text to one of his private security contacts, a name and a location, and the problem would be handled quietly. Within minutes, two suited men appeared at the edge of the party, pulling the boy aside with a firm hand on his arm. The conversation was short, the warning clear. The boy left without a backward glance, his face pale. Flora never noticed. She continued laughing with Mia, her playful nature shining through, completely unaware of the strings Matt pulled in the shadows.

Later that night, Matt sat in the dark study of his house, the only light coming from the window that overlooked Flora’s bedroom across the lawn. Her light was still on, the silhouette of her moving dancing around her room while listening to a music on speaker and preparing her bed. the way she bends to set the sheets, the way her body is swaying to the music beats The sight of her so vulnerable, sent a surge of heat through him. Even more than when he saw her at the party.

No one could tell what he felt for her, not even her father, the only man he trusted.

His hand moved to the front of his pants, slowly freeing his c**k. It was already hard, thick and heavy in his palm, the head glistening with pre-c*m from the hours of pent-up desire. He wrapped his fist around the shaft, stroking slowly at first, his thumb brushing over the sensitive tip in a deliberate circle. The sensation was electric, but it was the fantasy that consumed him. He imagined Flora on her knees before him, her long hair fisted in his hand, her big hazel eyes looking up at him with that mix of defiance and hidden vulnerability. Her pouty lips would part as he guided his c**k into her mouth, the warmth and wetness of her tongue sliding along his length in a way that made his hips buck.

He stroked faster, his breath coming in short gasps, the images expanding in his mind. He pictured her naked beneath him, her fair skin marked by his hands, her curves arching as he pushed inside her for the first time. The thought of her virgin tightness gripping him, the way she would moan his name in that sarcastic, teasing voice turned desperate, sent a jolt of pleasure through his body. He imagined licking every inch of her, his tongue tracing the lines of her toned body, sucking on her n*****s until she begged, then moving lower to taste the heat between her legs. The fantasy grew more vivid: her body shaking as he edged her, bringing her to the brink over and over without letting her come, his dominant control making her submit to the pleasure she tried so hard to deny.

Matt’s fist pumped harder, the slick sound of his strokes filling the dark room. He thought of her long hair wrapped around his wrist as he took her from behind, her ass raised, her moans muffled against the pillow. The way she would look when he finally claimed her, his c**k buried deep, her body accepting every inch of him as he filled her with his release. The imagination grew further, the details overwhelming him—the scent of her skin, the taste of her on his tongue, the feel of her nails digging into his back as she came undone around him. He groaned, his strokes becoming erratic, the pressure building at the base of his spine.

With a low, husky cursing sound, he came, thick ropes of c*m spilling over his fist and onto his abdomen, the intensity leaving him breathless. His chest heaved, the eagle tattoo rising and falling with each breath, the infinity symbol low on his skin a reminder of the endless desire he felt for her. He leaned back in his chair, his hand still wrapped around his softening c**k, the aftershocks of pleasure mixing with the deeper ache of obsession. He had removed the threat at the party without her knowing, but the real war was the one inside him—the one that made him want to claim her completely, to possess every sarcastic laugh, every playful prank, every hidden vulnerable moment she tried to hide.

The night stretched on, Matt’s mind replaying the fantasy in endless loops. He knew the prank war with Flora would escalate, her witty nature pushing back against his dominance, but he was ready. The protection had become possession, and he would not stop until she was his in every way.