Chapter 6 Octavia
SIX
OCTAVIA
Why am I not fighting this? This is crazy, all of it is, but instead of being angry, or scared, or any of the other ten million emotions I feel like I should be feeling, I just feel peacefully numb, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.
Knight makes me feel like I just took a diazepam. Since he knocked on the door of the Airbnb, I’ve felt calm, and I have no idea why. There have been peaks of emotion, like fear on the plane and desire and arousal when we had sex, but most of the time I’ve just felt oddly…settled.
A part of me wonders if it’s his certainty. Or maybe it’s his simplistic view of us and our future. Despite my asking him if he was crazy more than once, I don’t really think he is. But he has this assuredness that I’m his, he’s mine, and our future happiness is guaranteed, and that’s not…normal.
But then, from what I know of them, all the men in this town are a little…unusual. More than one marriage has begun with the dude falling hard and fast, including Betty and her husband, Cody, and my bestie, Etta, and her stepbrother-slash-husband, Oz.
But that can’t be what’s happening with me and Knight…
right? He’s called me his mate more than once, and even though it doesn’t make any sense to me, he seems to honestly believe that from the first time we met we were destined to be together.
But that kind of thing only happens in fairy tales, not in rural Montana.
But the moment he pushed his very hard, very big cock into me, something felt more than simply right.
There was no foreplay, no teasing, or dirty talk.
He carried me upstairs, stripped me naked, and then forced his dick into my body, and I just went along with it.
He told me he knew what we needed, and I’m not entirely convinced he wasn’t right, because it was by far the best sexual experience of my life.
Before Knight, I’d only had one sexual partner. Abel took my virginity, and let’s just say that sex with him wasn’t exactly what I expected. His dick was…unimpressive, and his ability to use it even more of a letdown.
Truthfully, I hadn’t been holding on to my virginity for any particular reason. I’d just been waiting for it to feel right, and I thought Abel was my person. Now I’m just glad I didn’t let him convince me to fall back into bed with him since he offered to help with my landlord issues.
I’m well aware that dick size has no real-life implications on good sex.
Dudes with small dicks can be sexual savants, and guys with elephant trunks can have zero game and rely on rearranging a girl’s guts to show them a good time.
But Abel is neither well-endowed nor sexually skilled.
His idea of being good in bed had been rubbing my clit like wearing it away was the key to making me orgasm, then three-pump chumping it until he blew his load into the condom while telling me how much I was enjoying myself.
Until today, and Knight, I thought I was doing something wrong.
Abel made me feel like his inability to pleasure me was my failing and not his, and I’d believed him.
I’d thought not being turned on by him was my fault.
I’d thought that he couldn’t make me come because I was doing something wrong or that my body was a dud.
But a few hours with Knight has changed everything.
He made me come without touching my clit. He made me make noises I had no idea I was capable of making. He embarrassed me and used clinical words like penis and vagina, and yet he still made me come more than Abel has ever managed to do.
But despite the sexual enlightenment Knight has helped me discover, I know nothing about him, other than he keeps calling me his wife.
He says this house is our home, and that he’s apparently all-in on a relationship I haven’t consented to.
But what terrifies me the most is that he’s the most familiar stranger I’ve ever met.
I’ve burst into tears more than once so far today, and instead of being appalled by my show of emotions, he’s comforted me. His touch and clean, soapy scent have settled the swarming battle of emotions lodged inside my chest.
In the handful of hours since he stepped into my world, he’s fucked me twice, threatened to spank me, and told me I’m his wife and that we’re together whether I like it or not, and I’m not scared.
I’m not panicking, or running, or calling the cops.
I have the means of raising the alarm. I have my cell.
We’re in Rockhead Point, less than a mile from the Barnetts’ home.
I could run, and I might even get away, but the thought of escaping hasn’t even crossed my mind.
“Let me show you the rest of the house, and then you can start picking furniture,” he says, lifting me off his lap and lowering me to my feet.
Taking my hand in his, he leads me across the huge open-plan living space and into a mudroom, a laundry room, and a garage. Upstairs, he gestures to our room, then guides me up a second set of stairs and shows me the four bedrooms and bathrooms on the top floor.
I follow him back down to the ground floor and let him tow me to a closed door.
When he opens it, I gasp. The room is the gothic arcade of my dreams. The walls are wood paneling painted black.
The floor is the same white marble tile as the rest of the living area, but there’s a huge black-and-white fluffy rug covering most of the open floor.
Pushed against the walls on three sides are vintage arcade games, pinball machines, a foosball table, an air hockey table, and several other unfamiliar things that my fingers are twitching with the urge to explore.
Every single machine is gothic themed in one way or another, even down to the little dudes on the foosball table being Frankenstein characters on one team, and Wolfman characters on the other, while the pitch is painted to look like a graveyard.
“Why? How?” I whisper in awe.
“Welcome home, Doll,” he says simply, like this is no big deal.
Spinning around to look at him, I fling an arm out behind me. “I don’t understand.”
“Do you like it?” he asks, and for the first time, his usually indifferent expression slips.
“Like it? I love it. It’s…no one has ever. How did you know?”
“You took your landlord to court over an Addams Family pinball machine,” he says simply.
At the reminder of my beautiful pinball machine being smashed to pieces, some of my excitement dims. “I can’t believe…it’s…thank you,” I whisper, pushing up onto my tiptoes and pressing a kiss to his lips.
The moment my lips make contact with his, he jerks like I’ve startled him, and for a moment, I worry I’ve done something wrong.
Just as I’m about to pull back and apologize, his huge hand curls around the back of my head, and he pins me in place, kissing me like he’s been waiting to do it his entire life.
I’ve kissed a lot of boys and a couple of girls, but I’ve never been kissed like this before.
Knight’s kiss is all-consuming. His lips are soft and full and dominating.
I might have started the kiss, but he is firmly in control now, turning my head how he wants me.
Holding me in place, he devours my mouth while his free hand slips beneath his shirt, curving beneath my butt to lift me off the ground, holding me like I weigh nothing.
I can feel his hard cock through the thin fabric of his boxers, but despite my half-nakedness and how easy it would be to free his dick and push into me, he just kisses me, like it’s all he wants, all he needs.
Melting into him, I realize this is all I want and need too. I’m wet, and if he were to slip inside of me, I wouldn’t complain, but I’m more than happy to just kiss him, because his mouth on mine is divine.
After we kiss for what feels like hours, Knight eventually lowers me to my feet, cupping my bare ass with his huge paw-like hand. “Kissing you is addictive, Wife,” he says, his voice gravelly and rough.
“I’m not—” I start.
A stinging pain radiates from my ass cheek as his palm swats at me.
“Addictive,” he says, a devious smile tipping the corners of his lips. “What do you want to play with first?”
“You,” I silently say inside my head.
When he swats me again, I lurch forward with a squeak, reaching back to protect my ass from his spanky hand.
“Adding it to the list,” he says quietly.
“What list?” I question.
“I have a list of all the things I want to do with you,” he answers honestly.
“You have a…what?”
“A list,” he says again, his tone neutral.
“Wait, you have a sex Tbr for me?” I splutter.
“What is a Tbr?” he questions.
“To be read,” I say, waving away his question.
“I don’t want to read you,” he starts. “Unless you were naked, then I think I’d enjoy reading from your bare body.”
“No…I,” I argue. “You have a list?” I question.
“Yes.” His robotic, monotone answers are starting to bother me. Having a to-do list for a person isn’t normal…is it?
“What’s on this list? Have you written it down? Are you going to, like, check things off as you do them? What have you checked off so far? Was fucking me on there?” I snap, my anger rising as my brain starts to whirl, questioning if all of this is just some fucked-up game.
“Penetrating you was on the list, yes,” he answers, still as calm as always.
“Fucking,” I yell. “Just say fucking. Calling it penetrating makes this even worse.”
“Fucking you with my cock was on the list,” he reaffirms.
“Oh my god. Is this all some fucked-up game? Is fucking the weird goth girl like a bonus round? Is that what all of that was upstairs? Do you get more points if you convince me to do fucked-up things with you?”
Knight’s expression stays infuriatingly calm, apart from a twitching muscle in his jaw that clenches and releases.
“Knight,” I snap, when he doesn’t speak.
“Are you done?” he asks calmly.
“No, I’m not fucking done,” I cry, shoving past him and rushing up the stairs toward the bedroom.