Elle
When he emerges from the shower, he smells like himself again. The dimmed lights streaming in from the bathroom bathes his back in a warm glow, and cast the hollows of his face, abs, and hard cock jutting out at me in shadows.
And in that moment, I feel like I finally see him for who he is. Not just a fiend, but a master able to move every piece around, including me, because my heart accelerates as the bed dips and he peels back the duvet.
His fingers curl around my ankle. “ Dovey? ” he calls softly, his thumbs stroking my skin. The ticklish contact immediately makes my pussy twitch and that’s how I know I’m a fucking goner.
I will myself to keep still as he gently rolls me onto my back, pulling my legs apart. The silky feel of my nightdress rolling up my hips almost makes me give myself away as he crawls up my body to put his soft cheek against my heart.
“Dove?”
It’s going to give me away, the thundering, but he seems too eager to notice as he grips my chin, and I hold still for my favourite part. The part where he presses his lips to mine in a series of short kisses. Then comes the moan, the groan right before he licks my lower lip and pulls it between his teeth.
I can’t help but flutter my eyes open a fraction to watch him. To watch his dark eyes so focused on my lips beneath a curtain of heavy black eyelashes. His eyes are the most beautiful like this, when they're glazed over and so unfocused but focused at the same time.
“It was torturous tonight, Dove,” he whispers against my ear. “But all I could think about was you.” His tongue skims my lower teeth. “All I could think about was how much I needed my little doll to cope.”
His fingers, clutching my nightgown, creep across my upper thighs, then my waist and breasts as he exposes me completely, the fabric pooling onto my collarbones.
“Selfish, right? I blame my therapist.” He licks my nipple. “The night nurse,
étienne .”
He bends my legs before grabbing two pillows and positioning them beneath my knees.
“He says it's normal to have a doll. He’s had one for years. Admire. Just admire… just love her, and it’s okay.” The backs of his fingers stroke my inner thighs, and it takes all my willpower not to tremble as his thumbs creep to my slit and part me. “Your pussy’s so pretty in the moonlight.”
One of his hands leaves me, and I peek to see him stroking himself, his head bent, his damp hair shielding his face. His torso and cock are in the bluish light streaming in between the sheers, but the rest of him is draped in shadows again.
He looks too perfect to be real.
“The pink mixed with that blue tint…it’s surreal.”
It feels surreal.
“Fantasy pussy,” he rasps. “And then it glistens, the slick catching the silvery hues.”
Don’t twitch.
Don’t move…
I watch as a silvery thread drips from his parted lips onto my clit. It's so warm.
“That’s when it’s prettiest.”
My lips part a fraction as I try to release my quickening breaths without making my chest rise and fall too sharply.
He’s just talking to himself to get off, but it’s having the same effect on me.
“No, that’s a lie. Silvery and slick, yes, but creamy and white, that’s the prettiest colour combination.”
He spits on his dick and the sight plus his thumb massaging my slit makes my toes that are hidden beneath the covers curl.
“But I can’t see my favourite colours until you let me. Your cunt would have to swallow me whole, milk me then spit me out. Drip me out down your thighs.”
Don’t move.
Don’t move.
He brings my hand to his mouth and sucks on two fingers, licking and splitting them with his tongue until they’re dripping as he strokes his cock faster. Then he takes my hand and guides my fingers to my pussy like he always does. He’s always careful not to touch my clit. Not to push me in dry to wake me.
“When will you let me turn you into a puppet again?” he asks, working my fingers deeper. “If you let me, I can bring you to life. Your pussy can suck out mine, my life, and take it for your own.”
When he pulls my fingers out, he smears my slick onto his dick and spits on it again before stroking himself faster.
“ My sweet little doll,” he whispers.
All the other times, I managed to just watch. To wait for his orgasm to make him sleepy enough so that I could have mine while I watched him sleep. But watching the head of his cock, wet and slippery, jerk in and out of the moonlight as he pistons his hips is too much for me.
When he curls over me to suck my tits and soak the towel he’s placed at the junction of my thighs, I creep my fingers into his hair and he turns into stone.
“So turn me into your puppet. I want to come alive again.”
He releases my nipple with a long, slow drag as his eyes crawl up my throat and my lips before settling on my eyes. I love the stunned surprise in his because, for once, he isn’t a step ahead. And it’s his own greedy desire to release that made him ignore everything else. Then again, he couldn’t feel me contracting around my own fingers. Or feel the wetness coating them as he fucked me with them.
He leans onto his elbow, a slow, vicious smile curling his lips. “You can talk? My little doll?”
“I can do a lot more than talk.”
I ease up the pillows to sit against the headboard so that there’s a gap between us, one he quickly tries to close, but I use the break in contact to roll off the bed.
“Where are you going?” he asks devilishly. “Dolls can’t move.”
“But they can play. And I want to play.”
One last time.
His jaw ticks, his eyes hollow black tunnels in the shadows. “What game do you want to play?”
“The one we always play. Where you hunt me. Chase me.”
His head bows. “Your feet.”
I follow his gaze to my socks, but I’m not backing down. If this is it, I want to do one last thing for him because he helped me regardless of his motives. He got Jarett away from me for two years, and he gave me my mother in the process. He taught me how to swim and dance and come alive in his arms. Finally, he’ll make me six figures richer.
It doesn’t negate the bad. It doesn’t even put a dent in the bad, but it makes me want to do something for him besides finding his mother's killer.
“Then you better catch me fast,” I say, “so I can get off my feet while you put them in the air.”
He eases off the bed, and I creep backwards toward the door.
“What are the rules?” His voice is even deeper now. Rougher.
“Simple. You catch me, and you become the puppet master.”
“ Master… ”
“You can do whatever you want. Make me move and scream and cry however you want.”
His smile broadens cruelly, and my heart and my pussy twitches in anticipation.
“Ten seconds head start,” he says lowly. “One… two …”
I don’t make it halfway down the hallway before he’s hot on my heels, matching two of my strides to his one.
He’s so close I can hear his excited, erratic breathing… until I reach for the lift’s black card he’d carelessly tossed onto the bench in the foyer. It’s beside another key, one with a keychain of Zoi’s cartoon face. Bae’s key? I don’t have to dwell as I grab the black card, but my swiping isn’t what gives him pause; it’s the jingle of the car keys I rip off another hook before blasting into the lift.
My clumsy fingers push the card into the slot while I push the button for the top garage. The penthouse’s private garage.
Gant stands just outside the lift, his eyes transfixed by the glowing button before they flicker to me, a boyish innocence blooming as the dark trance breaks.
“Why aren’t you chasing me?” I ask, catching my breath as I lean against the railing.”
“ Dove. ”
“You said you’d do anything to have me,” I say as the shiny black doors creep shut. “So come and get me. Again .”
When the doors reopen into the dark garage, I click the remote for the SUV with the beautiful butterscotch interior and climb in. Cracking the windows, my heart pounds in my throat as I wait for him to get the spare card Rin’s hidden again.
I settle onto the console between the seats and eye the tinted moon roof. The second I find the button to open it, the lift opens, and Gant emerges. I zone in on the deep etches of his V cut, on his hard dick that’s stretching his sweatpants tight as he stalks over.
“You knew where Jarett was,” I say when he stops short of the door. “You hid him from Jaime. From me.”
He swallows his sharp Adam’s apple bobbing. “Only for a short while. Bart had him mostly.”
I don’t roll the engine over but turn the key so that the moon roof can slide halfway open, just wide enough for me to get through.
“And you planned his return to Jaime in exchange for me?”
He doesn’t look remotely surprised or caught. Like he always knew this moment would come. “Do you want an apology?”
“Are you going to give me one?’
“For giving your mother what she’s always wanted and simultaneously getting rid of her to get to you? Never .”
“Then why did you offer.”
“I didn’t. I asked because you’re punishing me.”
“I’m not punishing you,” I say, pulling my feet under me as I balance on the console. “I’m helping you, like you helped me to finally see the truth about my family, no matter how painful.”
He says nothing, his expression pained as I slip onto the roof so that we’re facing each other again without the windscreen separating us.
“You can’t walk three-plus hours a day for the rest of your life, Gant.”
Still, he says nothing.
“You’ve been reading a lot about immersion therapy. Is that why you bought those car pyjamas?”
He didn’t know I’d seen them, but I had the second he came through our bedroom door. No, his bedroom door, and I know he’s up to something.
“Yes,” he says simply, without elaborating.
“So, let's do some immersion therapy together.”
He’s still frozen, his fists clenched in the pockets of his sweatpants.
“Were you lying when you told me that?” I ask, climbing onto the roof.
“What?” It’s barely a whisper as he watches me settle into a split over the cracked opening.
“That you’d do anything to have me?”
“I’m not a liar.”
I pull my nightdress over my head so that I’m fully exposed. All but my pussy’s that hidden a few centimetres in the car itself. “Then why won’t you come get me?”
“That’s not fair,” he hisses, his eyes trailing from my nipples to my hidden slit.
“You agreed to the rules.”
He begins to shake his head slowly.
“Come and get your pussy, Gant. Isn’t it yours?”
A heavy silence settles over us, and then slowly, ever so slowly, he steps closer to the driver's door, where he presses his face against the window. His palms push flat against the glass like a kid admiring a toy, a doll, he desperately wants as he gazes at my slit.
“You have to open the display,” I say. “If you want to touch it. Taste it.”
“ Taste it …” he trails to himself as I slide my fingers down my stomach to play with myself.
“I know you like it when it drips, don’t you? When you can catch that dangling thread on your tongue before sucking on my clit. It’s your favourite part.”
“ My favourite, ” he repeats, mesmerized.
I show him my fingers through the glass, and he actually licks the damn pane.
“You can have the real thing, Gant. Just come in the car, get on your knees, stick your tongue out and taste.”
A pained look contorts his features, as he sees the rush of slick as I press my G spot until my stomach contracts and my pussy creams.
The car door rips open, and I gaze between my thighs to watch him. Fuck he’s handsome, even more so from this angle with his hair pushed back from his forehead, his cut jaw opened wide, his long pink tongue playing with that little drip a second before he’s on my clit.
I fist my fingers in his hair and hold him close, riding out my orgasm. One second, I’m on the roof; the next, he’s sinking his fingers into my thighs and pulling me into the car onto his lap.
I squeal as he pushes me backwards, my shoulders hitting the back seat as he crawls between my legs.
For a second, he just stares at me sprawled on the butterscotch leather, and I’m worried that I’ve pushed him too far. That I’ve done the wrong thing, but then… he gazes down at me and smiles. Not wickedly, but a smile that’s contagious.
“ What? ” I ask with a little breathless laugh.
“Look where we are.”
I gaze around at the fogging windows and jump when I feel the head of his cock sliding up and down my slit.
“You’re going to let me creampie you in the back of a car, Rose. All we need is some water around us.”
He bumps my clit and I jump, spreading wider so that he can push at my entrance. Finally.
“We can just pretend,” I whimper.
“I’m good at pretending.”
I freeze at that, but then he grabs my ankles and drapes each of my legs over his shoulders. It’s my turn to be frozen by the view as he slowly leans forward. He’s breathtaking, carved in shadows by the dim lighting as his wavy hair falls into those soulless pits.
My feet, tucked behind his head, are visibly healed but still scarred as his veined hands clutch my ankles as he uses my legs as a lever. The closer his lips inch to mine, the deeper he sinks into me, stretching me painfully and deliciously, centimetre by centimetre.
The light searing as his balls hit my ass and his tongue slides over my lips, makes me gasp, moan, and squirm beneath him, but he doesn’t let up. He drives his hips harder against mine, settling so much of his weight deep inside of me that it feels like he’s penetrated my soul.
“ Gant ,” I pant, trying to take one of my legs off his shoulders, but he only slips his hands from my ankles to my toes, pushing them into the leather above my head. It burns, stretching parts of me I didn’t know were possible.
“So deep,” he rasps.
“It hurts.” In the best and worst way.
He slides midway out of me, but the relief of his alleviating pressure disappears as he drives forward.
“ Ohhh! ”
“ Good. Only I can reach this far into your soul,” he says, sinking into me again and again until our noses brush. Until he’s forced my legs so flat that he can pin his cock deep enough to kiss me. Not chase little butterfly kisses, but deep kisses as he grips the back of my neck and tangles his tongue against mine despite my cries for him to stop. And my cries for him to come back the second he slips away from me again.
“That’s it, dove,” he says, his eyes rolling midway to the ceiling. “Choke my cock. Pull me deeper.”
My walls flutter around him, gripping him tight and playing into that pleasure riding on pain. But then a slick release as he grinds against my clit eases the friction.
I know he feels the rush as he finally lets my legs go. Using my neck, he shoves me forward so that I’m halfway between the front seats, my nipples grazing the console. He pulls my hair, forcing my head back so that I look at him in the rearview mirror as he slides behind me.
“Don’t take your eyes off of me,” he says, sinking my back and forcing me into an extreme arch before curling his arm around me to stroke my clit. “I want to see you come alive. I want to see your tits dance and hear you moan so hard you can’t keep your spit in your mouth and the slick in your slit.”