Chapter 16 #2
The tension at my core snaps, and I fall to pieces, dragging my nails down his back, eliciting a hiss, while my body convulses beneath him.
"Jesus Christ, Saige," he groans. "You're all mine, baby. You're my little doll, and I can do whatever I want to you now, isn't that right?"
"Yes…" I pant in my post-orgasm euphoric haze. "I'm your little doll."
"Fuck…" He pulls out, raising onto his knees with his wet, throbbing dick in his hand. "Turn over onto your stomach."
I roll onto my stomach, lying flat, and then he comes down on top of me, slipping his cock into my pussy again. "This might hurt a little," he says.
Before I even have a chance to process what he just said, I feel his wet cock slide up my crack, and the tip sinks into my ass.
"Ah, fuck!" I scream, kicking my legs up and grabbing the slats on his headboard.
"Shh," he says, resting his cheek against mine. "The worst part is over."
I realize that—it's not my first time, but there have only been a couple. And they weren't as big as Dax.
"This won't take long," he says before he thrusts the rest of the way in, fucking me in short bursts.
"You've got a body that just begs to be fucked.
And I want to fuck you like this sometime while Nolan fucks your pussy; we've never done that before, and you're just fucking perfect for it.
It's better if I get you used to it now. "
I whimper, partly from pain and partly from pleasure. I'm not sure if it's his words—if it's the thought of taking both of them at the same time that does it or if it's actually starting to feel good.
But then he slides his hand between my pussy and the mattress. I rock my hips a little, rolling my clit over his fingers while he fucks me.
Now, I know which one it is—it feels really fucking good. After a couple of minutes, my legs are shaking again, and Dax catches my mouth, burying my moans against his lips, kissing me through it until his dick pulses in my tight hole.
It hurts again when he pulls out, and I know I'm going to be sore.
He rolls off of me, and I turn onto my back before he gathers me in his arms.
"Ripley, I'm obsessed with you," he says. "I'm already thinking about where I want to come next. My sweet, submissive little doll…"
"I'm not—" I start, but don't finish the sentence. I'm not submissive—that's what I'm about to say. That's never been on my mind during previous sexual encounters. I never would have used that word to describe myself before. I've always preferred control.
"Not what?" he asks. "Submissive?" He shakes his head. "Then explain why you're such an obedient little fuck doll, Saige. Why does your body respond the way it does when you do what you're told?"
"I don't really think that's what's happening…" Is it?
He trails a hand down my body, stopping to tease my nipple with his thumb. "There's nothing wrong with wanting to be a good girl, Saige."
Even though I just came…twice…the words good girl still hit me right between my legs. My breath catches, and he smiles before sucking the nipple between his fingers into his mouth.
And then he sinks his teeth into my flesh, and I yelp.
"I heard you liked the handcuffs; I can see the marks on your wrists. And you know what else I think?" Assuming it's rhetorical, I don't answer, and he continues. "I'm willing to bet you like a little pain, too. You better make sure Elias doesn't find out."
This time, I'm not confused about the implication at all.
I remember what happened when Elias spanked me.
It still hurts when I sit down, and I'm surprised Dax hasn't mentioned the bruise.
He didn't quite leave a handprint, I guess going easy on me that time, like he promised, but that left a mark, too—a scar I definitely don't want to look at.
I still don't know how I'll face him.
"Are you okay? You seem overwhelmed."
Yeah, I am. I'm really fucking overwhelmed. And that's without the added stress from coping with becoming a murderer while being threatened by a stalker.
It's like the walls are closing in on me. I wonder if this is how Nolan feels all the time.
When I don't answer, he says, "If you miss the illusion of control, I'll let you ride my dick next. You'll still be my good girl while you're doing it."
Dax grabs me by my thigh and turns me onto my side so that I'm facing him, and drapes my leg around his waist. He continues kissing me, sucking on my neck while he teases my nipples, his cum dripping down my backside.
I close my eyes, savoring his teasing for a few minutes.
Even sore and freshly fucked, it turns me on again.
I think I could lie here, letting him tease me and touch me for hours, and I'd never get enough of it.
Like a good girl.
But he's right. I do miss the illusion of control, if that's all it was.
I reach between his legs, working his cock with my fist while he lies back with his eyes closed, teasing him for minutes until he's solid and throbbing in my hand, his soft groans making me slick again. Then, I climb on top, lowering my pussy onto his cock, gasping when he fills me.
And then I ride him like my life fucking depends on it—like if I can fuck him hard enough, I'll regain a semblance of control over it.
When I come screaming, I know that I won't. I'm still a murderer. I'm still his fuck doll.
I still want to be a good girl.
After an afternoon of marathon sex, Dax ordered food, and then we showered together while we waited.
Nolan came home; I heard him in his room, and for some reason, I got this weird feeling like we were "caught," but I don't know where it came from.
Part of me wanted him to come in and strip down, too, but I knew he wouldn't do that.
Well, he would with Dax; I've witnessed it. But not with me.
Dax was unfazed by his presence, though, continuing to loudly joke around, his voice carrying in the small space the way it did when I heard the two of them in here together.
And shortly after we return to his bedroom, I hear the door between Dax's room and the bathroom lock, and the shower turns on again.
"God damn it," Dax says.
"What?"
"It still says twenty minutes for the food. I'm fucking hungry. Guess I'll have to eat you instead."
I laugh a little, hoping just a little bit that he's joking. I'm sore, and while technically, I can still walk, I definitely don't want to. I need a break, or I'm going to need an ice pack.
"I'm going to go downstairs and get dressed," I tell him.
"Okay," he says. "But come back. And bring beer with you."
I put on a cami, some underwear, and a pair of sleep shorts before brushing my teeth and drying my wet hair, and then go to the fridge, holding two beer bottles between my fingers while I close the door.
"Hey, Saige."
Elias stands maybe five feet away from me in the dark kitchen.
I steel my spine. "What?"
"I want to tell you something."
I shrug. "Well, then tell me something."
Is he actually going to apologize?
"I need you to sit with me for a minute."
Sighing, I set the bottles down on the countertop, walk into the living room, and sit in the chair.
No way I'm sitting on the couch with him. Not after what happened there yesterday.
He sits at the end of the couch closest to me, running his hands through his messy light brown hair. "This is unpleasant for me…"
Shit. He is going to fucking apologize. I bite my tongue to prevent myself from saying something like, What's new? You're always unpleasant for me.
"I'm going to tell you what happened with Miles."
"Oh…okay."
"He was the TA for my psychology class last year—and I lied about that, too, okay? This is my second time taking the class, but it's not my fault."
I roll my eyes, only because I know he can't really see them. Even if it wasn't dark in the room, he isn't looking at me—he's looking past me, at a space on the wall. "Okay…"
But of course Elias would preface this by saying it isn't his fault. Nothing is ever his fault.
"I'm not a shitty student, but sometimes, I'm an asshole.
And I was an asshole to Miles. He was teaching one day, and I was talking.
He tried to make this big scene about it, and I don't even remember what I said, but I know all one hundred and fifty people in the lecture hall ended up laughing at him instead.
And since they were laughing, I just kept piling on, and he ended up running out of the room.
Everyone thanked me for getting them out of class early.
So umm…the next assignment I turned in, he failed me.
And I thought…that's fine, right? He got me back, and maybe I deserved it, and now we'll move on. "
"Yeah…"
"But he didn't. Everything I turned in, I either got an F or the assignment was marked as not turned in, and the professor only accepted late work for half credit, so I failed those, too.
When she offered me extra credit, I turned it into her office, but of course, Miles got there first, and she never received it.
I couldn't go to someone whining that I was getting bullied by fucking Miles, right?
So, I dragged him out of a bar one night and told him that if he didn't fucking fix it, I was going to make him sorry.
When grades came out, and I got an F, I started talking to his fiancé online.
A month later, I started sleeping with her…
and then, I made sure he caught us together. "
"Jesus, Elias…"
"Well, what? He fucked with me. Am I just supposed to let him get away with it?"
I shake my head. "You're asking me—of all people? How much shit have you been allowed to get away with over the years? Your ego was always going to get you in trouble in the real world eventually, so yes, you should have just taken the L."
My heart rate picks up a little. I wonder if maybe I've pushed him too far again.
He sighs. "I'm not even done, Saige. Can you please just shut up and let me finish?"
I cross my arms in front of me and lean back in my seat.