Gant
Make me bleed…
I’ve been dreaming about soaking my cock in Elle’s cunt for years and yet I can’t accept what my dove is offering.
Not yet, at least.
Because she isn’t giving in, she’s playing the long game now and her stony heart hasn’t changed and I need it to change even if I won’t allow mine to become penetrable.
A wound stuck in tender flesh is far more painful than a wound that merely shatters and destroys in one blow. You can always piece the shattered remains back together with enough time. But soft, pliable flesh is different. It aches and throbs. And even when the offending object is removed, the flesh has a memory of it being there. The soreness doesn’t completely vanish, even if it dulls. It’s always there, flaring with rain and memories.That’s what I must be to Elle. Someone that’s always embedded into her heart, come what may.
So there’s no need for her to be so nervous. So jumpy, as if I’ll press her head onto the table, kick her legs wide and ram my cock into her wet hole right this second. Because despite how badly I want to, how desperately my cock’s aching for a reprieve from the one girl it’s been lusting over for two years, I won’t. It simply isn’t good enough yet.
But she doesn’t know that. And she is nervous, her fingers playing with the pleats of her skirt as I flick the ancient latch on the door closed.
Good. I like that I make her nervous. I like that she’s scared and soaked, confused and hating me but wanting me all the while.
And I know this because she can’t help but stare at my lips. My throat when my sharp Adam’s apple bobs. My jaw when it clenches or ticks.
“If we do this, the interlude,” she says, licking her suddenly dry lips and taking a step back as I stalk closer. “Then we should discuss some things first.”
“Go on,” I say, keeping my steps measured.
“You ruined my private tutoring sessions with Sylo.”
“Because you broke my rule. I told you, you’re mine. How could you think I’d let someone else play with what’s mine?”
“I’m not damn cattle.”
“But you are a dove, my dove. Every hair. Every pore. Every hole. Every heartbeat. Mine.”
She swallows, something pooling in her eyes and between her legs that I’m desperate to touch again, but she’s not ready despite her words.
“You want an interlude?” I say, but it isn’t a question. “Then you follow my rules without me making you. Without me marring the souls of anyone you ever dare to be alone with.”
“It isn’t like that with Sylo. I genuinely just wanted lessons. Don’t you realise that not everyone has ulterior motives like you? Some people are just nice, or decent.”
“I can’t relate,” I say simply. “And neither can Sylo. Are you really that na?ve? That innocent to think he’d look at you twice if I hadn’t branded you?”
She lifts her chin, feigning the same confidence that I can’t understand for the life of me why she doesn’t already have.
“Why not? I thought Gant fucking Auclair had superior taste?”
“Precisely why he wants to get his filthy fingers inside of you. To play your chords and pull your strings to see why I need you so badly. But I know you wouldn’t have let him.”
“You don’t know what I would’ve done. That’s why you stuck your dove in a cage. In detention to keep her safe. You may have a four-figure bill tomorrow, by the way. Courtesy of your minion Rin in the computer lab.” She arches a brow. “Unless, of course, you’re ready to set me free back to my mother. Because there’s no way I can pay for it.”
Rin. Noted.
A low chuckle escapes my throat. “You really don’t get it, do you?”
Her smug expression falls.
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t pay for. Nothing I wouldn’t do to keep you right where you belong. With me, including in any private sessions. So if tutoring is one of your terms, consider it already done.”
She just stares at me.
“What’s confusing you, dove?”
“You said you wanted to destroy my dreams and yet you’re willing to help me improve my dancing just for—”
“Sex?” I ask. “It’s not just sex. It’s the therapy I’ve needed for two years.”
“You think I can give you therapy after everything you think I’ve done?”
“I know you can.”
“This doesn’t make any sense. It’s just pussy.”
“No, it’s not. If it were just that, I could’ve had it six ways since Sunday. And you don’t believe that either. That’s why you’re offering yourself to me on a silver platter, because you know I wouldn’t barter for anything less.”
“I still don’t understand why it’s so special.”
“I told you I didn’t want you dead. But I still want to feed off of you in every way imaginable because you’re the only connection I still have to that night. You’re going to tell me everything you remember, then you’re going to give me everything you have.”
“Once I do, will the war end? Or just the interlude?”
“That depends on how satiated I am by the end.”
Her throat bobs as she swallows hard.
“Feed me well and it doesn’t have to be so hard,” I say, stepping forward each time she steps back. Eventually, there’s nowhere to go and her ass bumps into the table. I cage in her hips, grabbing onto the sharp edge. “All you have to do is be good for me. Follow my rules and take it. You’re built to take it. Once you do, I’ll give you your little interlude. Don’t worry, we’ll start off slow.”
“I have rules too.”
I eye the top button on her pinkish-brownish button-down that was once white. “As you should. But mine first. We’ve already discussed rule one. No one-on-one appointments with any male.”
“Including you?”
I ignore her staring at her covered tit right where I know the burn is. “Rule two,don’t hide anything anyone does to you from me again. What else have they done besides the burn?”
“Shouldn’t you already know because you ordered it? Or are you losing control of your servants already?” She cocks her head, her red hair tumbling across her shoulders.
I can’t wait to wrap it around my wrist.
“Maybe one,” I admit, thinking of the little bitch I’d sort out later.
“You’re borderline delusional if you think I’d come crying to the very person who ordered the hit on me.”
“But that’s just it. If we’re in an interlude, I won’t be ordering any hits. If anyone hasn’t gotten the memo, I need to know. Now tell me, did they touch you anywhere else?”
She snorts. “I don’t need a tormentor and saviour combo. I can handle any stray- Hey!”
Buttons go flying everywhere as I rip open her shirt.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” She slaps my hand away with a sting that sends a jolt straight to my cock again.
“If you won’t tell me, I’ll check for myself. Every single day. Every single inch of you.”
Her cheeks burn red hot, but then her eyes fall to my lips, tracing them.
“Only I get to mark you. Around your throat. On your nipples. In that sweet little pussy.”
“But checking me won’t be necessary. If we’re in an interlude, you have to call your dogs off and your word is sovereign, isn’t it?”
“I’ll send out a royal decree to Beaussip.”
“NO!” I arch a brow.
“Run it through the grapevine. No announcements.”
“Why?”
“It’s my number one rule. Just let things settle down naturally. Making an announcement would only draw more attention to me again. For now, I just want to lie under the radar without a Beaussip blast. Let’s keep it between us.”
Between us, I like the sound of that. Just her and I.
“If you don’t order any more attacks, no one should attack. Right?”
“If they know what’s good for them.”
I reach for her again and she shoves me back with surprising force, though I don’t budge.
“Rule number two,” she holds up a finger. “You can’t just tear my clothes off whenever the hell you want.”
“You liked it in stretch class when I tore your tights. I can still feel your pussy squeezing my fingers and pulling me in deeper.”
“Gant—”
“No. Pick another rule. Dolls can’t stop their owners from undressing them anywhere. From doing whatever whenever they want. But you still have some control. I’ll give you a safe word if I’m toying with you too hard.”
She pauses, a curious look drifting across her features.“What word?”
I eye her hair. “You say crimson and I’ll stop. That’s my compromise.”
To my surprise, she doesn’t fight me. She’s too busy fighting herself internally because once again there’s excitement in her eyes.
“What’s your safe word?”
“Cute.”
“Cute?” She wrinkles her brow.
“Cute that you’d think I need one for anything you’d do to me. That you’d think I’d ever want you to stop.”
There it is, that spark igniting in her eyes again.
“Now, if you don’t want me to finish destroying every single piece of clothing you own, take the rest off and I promise not to touch you with my hands,” I say, holding them up. “In fact,” I grab the sash that just bound Sylo’s wrists to the table. “You can bind them for insurance. Tonight, I just want to look.”
“I’m not hurt anywhere else,” she insists.
“I’ll be the judge of that. Take it off. Everything this time.”
She hesitates before lunging forward and grabbing the sash from me as if she’s scared I’m going to tie her up instead.
One day.
I patiently let her bind my wrist tightly, watching as she knots the ends with fumbling fingers.
“Well?” I say when she just stands there.
My heart accelerates despite her slow speed of removing the school’s blazer and then her torn blouse. But then my patience wanes as she just stands there again, frozen.
“Take off the bra. I said, ” I want to see all of you.”
I think she’s going to protest, but then she obliges, keeping her shoulders stiff. But her tongue wets her lips as if waiting for me to lean forward and kiss them. Instinctively, I follow the motion, wetting my own as blood surges to my cock. Her eyes dart there for a brief second too before she’s looking anywhere else but at me.
When she gets rid of the thin, cotton bra, her nipples are covered by her blazing hair.
“Move your hair out of the way,” I say, circling her and she obliges, drawing her long ponytail up into a bun. I’m mesmerised by the motion, then by her tits that’s been haunting my dreams for weeks.
Besides the angry burn and a light spattering of faint freckles, her pale skin is smooth everywhere else, unmarred and untouched. Maybe that’s why the burn’s fucking with my head too. Just knowing that someone’s touched her bare skin somewhere, anywhere, makes my blood boil.
Stepping closer, I watch the rise and swell of her breasts for an eternity and as I do, I can feel her insecurities start to creep.
Her arms twitch, moving as if to cross them over her breasts, and something in me goes feral.
“Keep them down, or I’ll rip off this sash and bind you instead.”
She glances at my wrists as if assessing the threat.
It’s cute that she thinks this little knot can keep me.
Still, her lip quivers and she obliges, dropping her arms back to her sides.
“I’m remembering all of you,” I say. “So you can’t lie to me again. I’m burning every inch of your body into my brain. Any changes without our consent will have dire consequences.”
“There you go with that we and our shit again,” she bites out.
“Look around, Dove. It’s just us. It’s always been just us from the beginning in the studio. I see now that I should’ve kept it that way. Just you and I.”
“So, when will you spread the word to your minions to back off?”
“When the time is right,” I say, coming to stand directly in front of her again. “Now take off the skirt. Kick off your panties and lay back on the table. I need to see every centimetre.”
She doesn’t hesitate this time, but her eyes flutter to the floor as she reaches for the waistband of her skirt.
“Look at me while you take it off.”
She doesn’t. “Why?”
“So you can’t pretend you’re somewhere else or that this isn’t happening.” I step so close that she’s practically straddling my knee. “Now be a good girl and look at me.”
And she does. Those green irises, suddenly two shades too dark, gaze up at me through heavy red lashes. And for once, I don’t see hatred.
I see pure desire.