Chapter 9
Indie
I couldn’t sleep. Again.
That made three nights in a row now that I’d been lying in this bed, staring at the ceiling, my mind racing with thoughts I couldn’t shut off.
Three nights since Stone had walked out of that kitchen without saying a word after realizing he’d came inside me with no condom.
Three nights of wondering where the fuck he was, what he was doing, if he was even coming back.
The morning after he left, I’d come downstairs to find a Plan B pill sitting on the kitchen counter, still in its packaging, like some kind of fucked-up peace offering.
I’d taken it immediately. I didn’t even hesitate, because the last thing I needed was to be pregnant by that crazy ass nigga.
But that was the last I’d seen or heard from him. No explanation. No warning. No nothing. He was just gone, and it was driving me fucking crazy.
I’d tried to escape twice over the past three days. Both times, his guards had caught me before I even made it off the property. They’d dragged me back inside, their grips firm but not rough, like they’d been given specific instructions not to hurt me.
But they made it clear I wasn’t going anywhere.
Stone’s orders.
So here I was, trapped in this house, alone with my thoughts, wondering what the fuck was going on.
Was he done with me? Had he gotten bored and moved on to some other bitch? Was he out there right now, fucking someone else, forgetting all about me?
And why the fuck did that thought make my stomach twist?
I shouldn’t care. I shouldn’t give a fuck what Stone was doing or who he was doing it with.
He was keeping me captive. He’d ruined my life. Taken me away from my brother, my job, my home.
I should hate him. But instead, I was lying here in the dark, feeling... hurt. Like he’d abandoned me. And that shit didn’t make no sense.
I rolled over onto my side, pulling the blanket tighter around me, trying to force my mind to shut the fuck up so I could sleep, but it was no use. All I could think about was him.
The way he’d looked at me the last time I saw him. That blank, emotionless expression that gave nothing away. The way he’d walked out without a word, leaving me sitting on that kitchen counter, my body still trembling from what we’d just done.
The way he’d made me feel like I was the only woman in the world when he was inside me, and then made me feel like I was nothing when he left.
I hated him.
I hated him so fucking much.
But I also...
No.
I wasn’t going there.
I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to focus on my breathing, willing myself to fall asleep. Just as I felt myself starting to drift off, I heard it. The sound of the front door opening downstairs.
My eyes snapped open, my heart immediately starting to race.
He was back.
I sat up in bed, staring at the closed bedroom door, my pulse pounding in my ears. For a moment, I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. I just waited. Then I heard his slow, deliberate footsteps on the stairs, coming closer.
The bedroom door opened, and there he was.
Stone stood in the doorway, looking fine as hell in a black hoodie and jeans, his chains catching the dim light from the hallway.
His face was unreadable. Blank. Like he hadn’t just disappeared for three days without a word.
He didn’t say anything. He was just standing there, staring at me, and that shit pissed me off.
I threw the blanket off and jumped out of bed, storming over to him.
“Where the fuck have you been?” I demanded, looking up into his face.
He didn’t answer. The nigga didn’t even blink. I shoved him hard in the chest, but he didn’t budge. He didn’t move an inch.
“Answer me, Stone!” I yelled, shoving him again. “Where the fuck have you been?”
Still nothing. Just that cold, emotionless stare.
Then I smelled perfume. Women’s perfume. It was sweet and floral and definitely not mine.
My blood boiled.
“Are you fuckin’ serious?” I said, my voice rising. “Did you just come here after fucking another bitch?”
Stone’s jaw tightened, but he still didn’t speak.
“If so, then just let me go home!” I shouted, my hands balling into fists. “You don’t need me, nigga! Go be with that bitch!”
Finally, he spoke.
“I tried to fuck another bitch,” he said, his voice low and rough. “But it didn’t work. I couldn’t even nut. Because she wasn’t you.”
I froze, staring at him, my mouth falling open.
What the fuck did he just say?
“You...” I started, but the words got stuck in my throat.
I didn’t know what to feel. Part of me was flattered. Like, this nigga really just admitted he couldn’t get off with another woman because of me. But the other part of me was disgusted. He’d tried to fuck someone else. He’d left me here, alone, for three days, and went out and tried to replace me.
“So you didn’t even have the decency to wash the hoe off you before coming here?” I snapped, my anger flaring back up. “After leaving me alone for days? I didn’t know if you were dead or alive!”
Stone didn’t respond, he just grabbed me by the waist and started pulling me toward the bathroom.
“Let go of me!” I yelled, trying to twist out of his grip, but he was too strong.
He dragged me into the bathroom like I weighed nothing, ignoring my protests, my fists hitting his chest and shoulders.
When we got inside, he finally let go of me.
I stumbled back, glaring at him, my chest heaving.
Then he started stripping. He pulled off his hoodie, revealing his tattooed chest and arms, the muscles flexing as he moved.
His jeans. His boxer briefs. Until he was standing there completely naked, his dick already hard and standing at attention.
I stared at him, my mouth dry, my anger warring with the heat pooling low in my belly.
He walked over to the shower and turned it on, stepping inside without a word. I stood there, frozen, watching as the water cascaded over his body.
He grabbed the soap and started washing himself, his movements slow and deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. Like I wasn’t standing there, fuming, waiting for an explanation.
After a few minutes, he rinsed off and turned to look at me.
“Come here, Indigo,” he said, his voice low and commanding.
I should’ve told him to fuck off. Should’ve walked out of that bathroom and locked myself in the bedroom. But I didn’t. Instead, I reached down and pulled my nightie over my head, dropping it to the floor. I wasn’t wearing a bra or panties.
Stone’s eyes darkened as they roamed over my body, lingering on my breasts, my hips, the space between my thighs.
I walked over to the shower, and he opened the door for me. I stepped inside, the hot water hitting my skin, steam rising around us.
We stood there, staring at each other, the water beating down on us. Neither of us spoke. The air between us was thick with tension, with unspoken words, with something I couldn’t name.
And then Stone moved.
He wrapped his hand around my throat and pulled me to him. His mouth crashed down on mine, and I kissed him back just as hard. The kiss was rough and desperate, like we were both trying to say everything we couldn’t put into words.
When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against mine, staring into my eyes. And the look on his face...
It was wild and hungry in a way that made my knees go weak, like he was coming apart just from seeing me. Like he was losing his mind over me.
My breath caught in my throat.
I leaned in and kissed him again, softer this time, and he groaned against my mouth. Then he lifted me, his hands gripping my ass, and sat down on the built-in shower bench. He positioned me over his dick, and I felt the head pressing against my pussy.
Slowly, he lowered me down, and we both groaned as I took him in, inch by inch, until I was fully seated on him.
Fuck.
He felt so good. So right.
Stone gripped my ass cheeks and started moving me up and down, his hips thrusting up to meet me. Our wet bodies smacked together, the sound echoing off the tile walls, amplified by the water.
I stared into his eyes, and he stared back, and it felt like he was looking straight into my soul. Like he was taking something from me I didn’t even know I had to give.
“I missed this pussy,” he said, his voice rough and strained. “Missed this good ass fuckin’ pussy so much.”
His words sent a jolt of heat through me, and I felt myself getting wetter, my walls clenching around him. And then I came so hard that my body shook as the orgasm ripped through me.
“That’s right, baby,” Stone said, his voice low and encouraging. “Come for me.”
He kept bouncing me on his dick, his grip on my ass tightening, his thrusts getting harder. I threw my head back, moaning loudly, taking every single inch of his big, thick ass dick. I’d missed it. Missed him. And I hated myself for it.
“Tell me you missed daddy dick,” Stone commanded, his eyes locked on mine.
I whimpered, my pride warring with the truth.
“I missed daddy dick,” I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper.
Stone groaned, his eyes closing for a moment, like I’d just given him everything he needed to hear.
“I ain’t gon’ leave you again, baby,” he said, his voice rough and sincere. “Never. Aight?”
I nodded, unable to speak, unsure what the fuck any of this meant, but I wanted to believe him.
Lord, I wanted to believe him.
A few moments later, Stone’s thrusts became erratic, his breathing heavy. And then he came, holding me in place on his dick, his grip almost bruising as he emptied inside me.
I was gasping for air, my body trembling, completely spent. Stone, on the other hand, looked perfectly fine. Not even winded.
He kissed my face, my neck, my shoulder, then my lips, sucking on my bottom lip before pulling away.
We got out of the shower in silence, drying off with the towels hanging on the rack. Stone wrapped a towel around his waist and led me back to the bedroom.
He climbed into bed and pulled me down with him, wrapping his arms around me, holding me close. I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.
It had been three days, and finally… I felt a sense of security. Like everything was going to be okay.
Even though I knew it wasn’t. Even though I knew this was all kinds of fucked up. But in that moment, wrapped in his arms, I didn’t care.
I closed my eyes and let myself drift off.
That night, I slept.