It wasn’t unusual to see soldiers patrolling the city—especially near schools, malls, or crowded areas. You’d grown used to it. The polished boots, the stiff uniforms, the way they walked like they owned the ground they stepped on. But And he was there. Towering. Still. Eyes like winter, cutting through noise and crowd.

He looked bored—until you looked at him. His gaze didn’t just notice you. It pinned you. And you looked away immediately, cheeks hot, throat dry.

Your friend nudged your arm. “Hey, earth to you?”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, pretending to check your phone. But that day... one of them looked at you.

And everything shifted.

You were with your friends, pretending to laugh at something meaningless near the food court. But your eyes kept drifting—toward the edge of the second floor where the soldiers were stationed you could feel it. His stare. Still there. Like he was memorizing you, undressing you with just his eyes.

Minutes passed.

You tried not to look again.

But you did.

And he smirked.

That cocky, almost cruel twitch of his lips made your thighs clench in ways that made you feel shameful. You hated how it made your stomach tighten. Hated the way his hand rested over his weapon like a warning.

Then you heard it. A voice—another soldier calling out across the balcony.

“Karl! C’mon!”

You froze.

Karl.

You had a name now.

And somehow that made it worse.

His name fit him. Sharp. Brutal. Commanding.

Karl gave one last glance in your direction before turning to follow. But that look—it wasn’t neutral. It was loaded with something unreadable. Like he knew you. Or planned to.

---

You didn’t expect to see him again so soon. But the universe—or something darker—was playing games.

Because the next weekend, he was there again. Same shift. Same post. Same brutal stare that locked with yours before you even noticed him.

Your friends were scattered, shopping. You stood alone outside a store, pretending to scroll through your phone when a deep voice hit you from behind.

“You got a staring problem, sweetheart?”

You turned sharply. There he was—up close this time. Karl.

Up close, he was worse. His presence was massive. Dark buzzcut, military-grade black uniform, sleeves rolled just enough to show veined forearms and calloused hands. His jaw was sharp, lips curled in a smirk that dripped with mockery.

You swallowed hard. “I wasn’t staring.”

He leaned in a little. His voice dropped.

“Then why do you look like you’re ready to drop to your knees and beg?”

Your breath caught. You stepped back instinctively.

Big mistake.

He followed the movement like a predator, crowding you into the shadowed edge of the wall, still in public—but blocked from clear view.

“Relax. I’m just observing a brat who likes to blush but doesn’t know how to behave.”

You looked away, heat rising to your face again.

He tilted your chin up with two fingers.

“Look at me when I talk to you. Don’t be shy now.”

His tone wasn’t kind.

It was cruel. Teasing. Filthy.

And it made something inside you twist and melt.

The crowded gallery buzzed with quiet conversation, wine glasses clinking, the scent of expensive perfume lingering in the air. She should’ve been focused on the painting in front of her—but Karl was behind her. Close. Too close.

His rough hand slipped under her skirt without warning.

“Stand still,” he murmured, voice dark silk against her ear. “Don’t make a scene.”

She froze, breath catching. The warmth of his palm pressed firmly against her thigh, sliding higher—too high. Her pulse stuttered, heart pounding like a war drum in her chest.

“You don’t get to act like a good girl now,” he whispered, voice low and biting. “Not after the way you looked at me during dinner.”

Two fingers brushed the lace of her panties, then dipped beneath.

“You’re soaked,” he growled, and she bit her lip to stifle a gasp. “God, you’re pathetic. All I did was speak, and now look at you—dripping like a needy little whore in public.”

His fingers teased her, sliding over her folds with lazy cruelty, never giving her quite enough. Just enough to make her twitch, her knees trembling slightly.

“Keep your hands at your sides,” he ordered. “If you draw attention, I’ll make it worse. You know I will.”

She nodded, eyes fixed blankly on the painting, heat blooming across her cheeks.

“You like this, don’t you?” Karl hissed, teeth grazing her ear. “Being touched like this where anyone could turn around and see. You like being used.”

A whimper escaped before she could bite it back.

He chuckled darkly. “That’s what I thought. Filthy little thing. I could bend you over the display table right now, and you’d beg me to ruin you.”

His fingers pushed deeper, a slick sound lost beneath the chatter of the crowd. Her breath hitched as he curled them just right.

“You’re clenching,” he muttered. “Like you’re about to come already. From what? My voice? My fingers? Or just from knowing you’re not in control anymore?”

She shivered, thighs trembling as she tried not to fall apart right there.

He withdrew suddenly, leaving her empty, aching. You whimpered before you could stop yourself.

His laugh was low and dark. “Knew it. You’re that kind of girl. Looking for a daddy in uniform to wreck you, huh?”

The word hit you like a slap and a kiss all at once.

“I could bend you over right now,” he muttered, “make you scream into that pretty little phone of yours. And no one would stop me.”

You wanted to deny it. Pretend you were too good for this. But your body told the truth. Every trembling inch of you.

Karl noticed.

“Good girl,” he whispered, venom sweet in his voice. “You just earned yourself a reason for me to find you again.”

He pulled back, just enough to leave you aching for more.

“Next time,” he said, brushing his fingers across your hip as he passed, “wear something shorter. Make it easier for me.”

And then he walked away.

Like he hadn’t just ruined you.