Chapter Two
The Guardian
M y sweet little fawn is fast asleep. I gently run my fingers along the marks on her beautiful face, and rage boils inside of me.
Whoever did this to my girl will die. I don’t care who it is; they’re dead.
She has a bruise forming under her eye, so I gently pull her eyelid up to find that it is clearly irritated and blood red.
I know she dances at that club. I don’t like it, but I can’t go in there without being made immediately.
The Treasure Chest is known for high-class hookers, and I fear that’s what she’s been up to.
I gently pull the blanket off her, still testing to make sure the drugs I put in her kettle have taken effect.
Her routine is so predictable that I can slip in through the fire escape while she is in the shower and slip it in.
By the time she is in bed, she is well on her way to being mine for the evening.
Who am I kidding? She’s always been mine.
She will always be mine. I spend a few hours every night worshiping her body.
I want so badly to fill her tight little pussy with my cock, but I won’t.
Not until she is awake and wants me inside of her.
That doesn’t stop me from feeling her, tasting her, and making her body shake as I pull orgasms out of her sleepy body.
Fuck, she is so amazing, perfect in every way.
I pull her panties off and set them aside so I do not lose them.
She is freshly showered, and I can smell the citrus soap on her body.
Touching her is like a drug to me. I am so addicted to her and no matter how many times I tell myself that it’s bad to come in here…
to follow her… I can’t stop. I will do anything to keep her.
No one will claim my little fawn. She may not know it yet, but she belongs to me and will for as long as we both breathe and exist. Even in death, she will never escape me.
I spread her thighs, but a growl rumbles in my chest when I see that my little fawn is swollen.
Upon inspection, I realize that someone has hurt her more than I thought.
She’s been raped recently. Her pussy is red and puffy, like she was fucked dry.
She had a panty liner in her panties, but she’s not even close to starting her period.
I keep inspecting her body, and I turn damn near murderous when I find that she is bleeding from her ass.
“Who hurt you, Little Fawn? Who am I going to kill tonight?” I ask her, but I’m mostly talking to myself. It’s not like she can hear me.
I decide that I won’t be too hard on her tonight.
I hate when she’s in pain. Instead of fucking her with my fingers like I usually would, I gently flick my tongue across her clit.
I smile when she lets out a small whimper.
I love the way she responds to me. I start with soft and gentle licks before letting my tongue explore her sweet and eager little cunt.
Even sore, she still seeks me out by shifting her hips in her sleep.
I know how much to put in her tea so that she never wakes, so her moving like this is normal.
I’ve learned everything about her, and I know how her body works.
I know how to make her come fast and how to draw it out until her body is fucking begging for it.
When I start lightly suckling on her clit, a deep, guttural moan sounds through the room, and I suck harder.
Her thighs tremble, and I know she’s close.
She will get to a point where she is responding, but still fast asleep.
Her hand lazily touches my head, and I suck hard, letting my teeth graze and nip at her clit.
When she explodes, her moan is loud. I reach up and grab her throat and squeeze as I keep pulling her orgasm out.
Her body goes rigid, and one orgasm blends into two before I let up.
Lori relaxes into the bed with a sigh and a small smile on her lips.
I am content leaving her early tonight now.
I need to handle whoever hurt her. Rob is the only one who sort of knows, but he knows I will skin him alive if he tells her that I know she works there.
I get my phone out and call Rob as I pull her shirt up to expose her perfect tits.
Her legs are wide open for me, so I kneel on the bed so that when I pull my cock out, I am inches from her pussy.
I groan as I slowly drag the head of my cock across her entrance and rub her clit with myself.
Her body jerks and I know I need to get away from her cunt before I fuck her.
“Hey, man. I was waiting for you to call,” Rob answers.
“Who hurt her?” I demand.
“She… Lorelei works in the back rooms,” he says carefully.
“What?” I snap.
“Hey. I’m not in the business of telling women what to do with their bodies.
Sometimes they get rough, but never like this.
I’ve never had anyone do this before. She has never been hurt like this before,” he explains.
“His name is George Fallon. He apparently snuck two buddies in tonight with him. He’s been seeing her every weekend since she started.
He’s usually pretty tame, but… I pulled the tapes for that room.
“Send it to me,” I growl.
“I don’t know if you want to see this,” Rob remarks.
“Whatever the price… I’ll pay. I want to know who it is I’m killing,” I say.
“Okay. Okay,” he sighs. “You should have it, but keep me out of it, please.”
“I will,” I say.
“Me and one of the bouncers finally have her talked out of working back there. Omar watches over her, and he has been trying for months to get her to quit. I think we are pretty close,” he says. “She’s done in the back, though. I think tonight scared her enough that she is done.”
“Good,” I say. “I’ll keep your name out of it. Just send me what you have on these fuckers, please.”
“To the burner?”
“Yes, Rob.”
“Got it. His whole folder is sent over,” he says.
“Thanks.” I end the call and fist my cock to start fucking my hand.
It’s not enough. I open the video and watch as I keep stroking myself.
When he starts to violently fuck her throat, I want to feel her mouth on me.
I prop my phone up so I can move it up to my face.
I listen to the sounds of her muffled screams as I gently open her mouth.
“They’ll fucking die for this, Little Fawn.
I own you, and no one touches what’s mine,” I growl as I slowly push into her mouth.
My balls tighten when she wraps her lips around my cock and sleepily sucks, as if it’s an instinct.
Her eyes are closed, so she’s doing this in her sleep. “Oh, baby girl. Fucking perfect.”
I reposition her body so I can hold her head between my hands as it dangles off the edge of the bed.
I push down her throat, and she keeps sucking as I rock my hips in small strokes.
I want to live in this woman’s body. I’ve never felt something so fucking amazing.
I promised myself that the first time I fucked someone, it would be her, and she would be well aware of what I was doing to her.
The downside to being a virgin is that I fear I will disappoint her.
I want the first time that we fuck to be the best sex of her life.
I know that she has had other partners, but I want to be the best of all of them.
I made a promise to myself that her cunt and ass were off-limits while she sleeps, but the rest of her is free game.
My sweet little fawn sucks cock in her sleep. Can she be any more perfect?
“Fuck,” I hiss as my body jerks. I pull out of her mouth and fuck my fist, her saliva acting as a lubricant.
When I finally come, it all lands on her tits and chest like an artwork of my devotion to her.
This woman owns me just as much as I own her.
I’ve saved myself for her, and as much as I would like to kill each and every person who even looks at her, I won’t control what she does with her body.
I will still rip apart anyone who causes her pain without her consent, though.
I reposition her in bed and clean her body.
I lay in the bed with her for a moment once I have her dressed.
She’s still sleeping peacefully, but when her body senses mine, she automatically turns and snuggles against my chest. Fuck, I love this woman so goddamn much.
I’m getting to the point where I know that I need to speak up and let her know that I’m here.
I’ve always been here, and I always will be.
I have two very distinct parts of my personality.
This side, the side that hunts her from the shadows and enjoys her body at night, doesn’t want to give her any other choice but to learn to love me the way I love her.
The man I am during the day wants her to have the free will to go where life takes her.
Does she know how many times she has come for me?
Does she know how I have kept her safe for years until now?
I failed her by letting her be in that fucking club.
I should’ve ended that before it ever got this bad.
I know Lorelei, and I can’t imagine she truly wants to be letting random men use her body.
Who am I to judge, though? I just throat-fucked the girl in her sleep.
Does that make me as bad as the man who hurt her tonight?
The difference is, I love her. She knows one part of me, but it’s time she starts to get to know this side.
I ’m standing outside the home of George Fallon.
The two men from the video that fucked my girl are resting in the living room with him.
Originally, I was going to come in and just shoot all three of them, but that would leave evidence.
Instead, I’m going in with a wooden bat.
When I get done obliterating their fucking heads, I’ll burn it in my fireplace at home.
I pull on my neon purge mask and open the back door.
You see, men like this think they are invincible.
They would never imagine that someone would come in and hurt them.
Women are sure to lock their doors, and they always double-check, but not George.
Lorelei always double-checks her doors and windows at night, but she doesn’t know that I can get into the fire escape regardless of a lock.
I slowly creep through the house until I get to the living room.
Two of them are on the couch and one is in the armchair, but they are all facing away from me.
They have beers in their hands, and an empty liquor bottle is on the coffee table.
Good, they are drunk. It will be less of a fight if they are shitfaced.
The two on the couch are the ones who raped her, but I start with the man on the right.
I need to make my hits count so that they don’t come after me all at once.
I line up my bat, and with one fatal swing, it cracks into the side of his head before anyone can react.
I immediately rear back and swing down hard, hitting the man on the left directly in the temple.
They both collapse, and the man in the armchair, George Fallon, is on his feet.
“You’re a dead bitch,” he growls. He goes for the pistol in his waistband that I already spotted, but as soon as he pulls it, I swing the bat and knock it out of his hand. He screams in pain when bones in his wrist audibly crack. “Fuck. What the fuck did you do?!”
“You hurt my girl,” I growl. “She doesn’t belong to you.”
“What? Is this about that whore from the club?”
“She’s not a whore,” I scream at him as I swing the bat again and make contact with his ribs. He screams out as he falls to the ground, immediately shielding his face when I stand over him with my bat raised in the air. “She’s mine .”
“Wait, stop!” he pleads, but it’s too late. The moment he touched Lorelei Belmont, he was a fucking dead man. No one touches my girl. No one.
I slam the bat down on the top of his head, and I keep swinging over and over again until there’s nothing left.
His face and head are obliterated, brain matter spilling out of his skull.
I hear one of the men behind me groan, so I spin around and swing the bat again.
He was standing and attempting to flee, but I sent him crashing into the glass coffee table.
I give him the same treatment and start slamming the bat down on his head until the sight of his blood and brains satisfies me.
The other one might be dead, but I don’t leave survivors.
He is slumped on the couch, but as I get closer, I see that he is still breathing.
It is shallow and labored, so I line the bat up with the center of his face.
I recognize him as the one who hit her. He was mad that she was sobbing.
Pathetic. I smash the bat against his face, and I keep hitting him until I release all of my anger.
I’m fucking amazed that the bat has held up through three skulls, but it will be easier to transport without it being splintered.
I’m covered in blood, but I have made sure not to step in any of it.
I also have gloves on, so I search for a trash bag to put the bat in before walking out of the house.
I’m confident that I did not leave any evidence behind, so I will just have to burn everything I’m wearing, along with the bat.
I get back to my truck and I already have trash bags and protective liners laid out so I can sit in the truck without getting blood on anything.
I turn on the music and let it drown out any negative feelings I have toward this.
It had to be done because it hurt her. I will play the devil so long as she continues to be my sweet angel.
She is the definition of perfection, and I won’t allow anyone to taint that.
Once I get to the house, I start a fire in the fireplace and toss everything in. I sit and watch as the last of the evidence burns, content with what I have done.