Chapter 34 Amber
Amber
“It's just me, little doll.” Cal's soft voice calls to me through the void in my mind, and something about the way he says it assures me that this isn't the first time he's called to me.
I blink, letting him come into focus before me, his dark eyes intent on mine, his mouth set into a look of concern.
“There you are.” He says, and something about it makes me proud. There's an affection in his voice that I can't be sure is really there, but it makes me feel somehow safe.
Looking past him, I see that we're alone again... in his bedroom.
I don’t remember anything about coming home.
When I closed my eyes last, I was in the basement, waiting for him to come.
“Cal.” My voice cracks, assuring me it's been unused for far too long.
“I've got you, little doll.” He says softly, wrapping me in his arms.
He smells good... clean, like he’s just showered.
And I gather he has… or we have.
I can smell the sweet apples of my shampoo, and when I raise a hand to my head, the strands are damp.
“Did... did we do it?” I hesitate, seeing no blood on either of us, no signs of any struggle. I certainly don't feel like I've been fucked.
I have a vague idea of what happened when I was lying there in the basement, but it wasn't exactly what I'd expected to happen. It's all so hazy.
My eyes were closed the whole time, so I'm sure that limited my perception of it all, but I can piece enough things together to shape a narrative.
I know that the man who Katrina was afraid of touched me, climbed overtop of me, and used my body for his pleasure. It's all stuff that I consented to when I planned it with Cal so that we could get what we wanted from him. But I don't think any of it went the way we had talked about it.
Cal shakes his head. “We opened the floodgate, but we haven't crossed over yet to the point of no return. I didn't let him use you. I... couldn't.”
“But…” I shake my head, trying to understand why he deviated from the plan. “We agreed?”
“We did.” He nods. “But I couldn't stand there and watch someone else where I'm supposed to be.” His eyes burn with something I can't name. It's dangerous and gorgeous, and it makes something in my stomach tighten.
“I told you, it's just sex. It's transactional.”
“Maybe.” He licks his lips. “But you're not just my toy anymore. I don't want to watch you let other men fuck you the way that I do.”
That's probably not supposed to sound like a declaration of his feelings for me, but it doesn't sound like a man who's just biding his time until he decides he's grown bored of me, either.
“You told me you'd kill them when they fucked me.”
“I will.” He agrees, his fingers flexing against my cheek. “I'll kill anyone who dares touch what's mine without my permission.”
“And if I want to fuck someone?” I ask quietly, waiting to see how he reacts to that.
“I'd still kill them.” He doesn't even think about it before he answers. He does pause a second, though, before adding, “After you finish, of course.”
I'm probably supposed to be angry about that. It feels like that should be the normal reaction to have. But since I woke up here the first time, I haven't felt quite normal. I think something broke in me long ago.
I cracked, splintered, but was held into place by the cage I put myself so tightly inside of. The cage of normalcy, of pretending that I was okay when I haven't been for most of my life.
Exhaustion pulls at me again, beckoning me to go back to sleep.
“Did you drug me?” I ask, my tongue feeling too heavy to make the words sound right.
“Yeah, baby. I’m sorry about that. It was just a small dose… just enough to get you home. I didn’t want you to see.”
“See what?” I yawn, my brain feeling fuzzy.
“He came on your stomach, your tits. I didn’t want you to have to see it, to feel it, to be stuck feeling it on you until we got home to wash it off. I dosed you a little, wiped you off, and then brought you home for a bath.”
That explains why my hair is wet. He bathed me. I know he did it after he first got me, but our dollification has been confined specifically to the bedroom or basement. The fact that he took care of me enough to bathe me feels tender, somehow more intimate than anything we’ve done.
I smile at the comfort blanketing me. I’d been so scared when I recognized those voices earlier, when I thought they’d recognize me. Now it all feels distant, like a bad dream. All that matters at this exact moment is the peace, the serenity.
Cal’s drug pulls at me, seduces me with its promise to take away all the bad. That combined with him? It’s a powerful combination.
“Did you fuck me yet?”
“No.” He says quietly. “It didn’t feel right.”
“Then do it now.” I sigh contentedly. The remnants of whatever drug he gave me are in my veins, warm and cozy.
The anxiety over my run-in with the men from earlier is gone, and all I have right now is desire. Desire to be loved, to be fucked, to be held, to fall asleep in his arms.
My fiancé.
What we did tonight was reckless, but now that we’re on the other side of it, I feel calm. I don’t think it’s just the drugs talking, either.
I trusted Cal with the ultimate responsibility… to care for me when I couldn’t be present to look out for myself.
His lips capture mine in a soft kiss that’s slow and sweet and full of nothing but devotion.
Love.
Bliss.
I think about saying it.
It’s right there on the tip of my tongue, to tell him I love him.
But by the time his lips move downward and mine are free to form words, the darkness is tugging me gently back into it.
This time, I surrender easily because I know when I’m asleep, he’ll keep me safe.